Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(5)
For some reason, she couldn’t seem to find guys who were stable. Any guy she dated seemed nice enough at first, but he invariably turned out to be moody and dangerous. She’d seen a therapist once, and had been told she suffered from severe lack of self-esteem and intense abandonment issues, stemming from her father’s death and her mother’s abandonment. Knowing the psychological reasons for her choices didn’t exactly enable her to change, however.
When she was awake, she had some kind of control over what happened. Asleep, she was vulnerable and helpless. She’d learned that the hard way. Her ex-boyfriend, Nick, had a psychotic episode one time in the middle of the night when she had stayed over. She had woken up with a hand over her mouth, a kitchen knife to her throat, his eyes wide and crazed. She’d managed to grab hold of the lamp bedside the bed and she’d brained him with it, buying her enough time to scramble out the door and into her car. Since then, she’d never slept over at a boyfriend’s house.
Nick had been violent and unpredictable. He’d called her names when he got mad, cursed at her, called her a fat slut, a bitch, a whore…all the names he could think of just to hurt her. He’d hidden it well at first, but, as time went on, his true nature finally revealed itself.
Just like Ben.
Ben, whose fist pounded on the screen door now, his voice harsh and angry. “Let me in! Come on!”
She pulled open the door, saying, “Calm down, Ben. I was in the bathroom.” A lie, but it was the easiest way.
He brushed past her and went straight for the cabinet and grabbed a coffee mug, helping himself. Typical. Never asked, just took what he wanted. “Why do you always leave?” There it was. Every time. “I don’t get it, Miri. I’d really like it if you stayed sometimes.” He sounded like a little boy who hadn’t gotten what he wanted, petulant and whiny.
“I’ve told you a hundred times—I’m not ready for that. Just let it go, please. I’ll stay over when I’m ready.”
Ben lit a cigarette, “So you can f*ck me, but you can’t sleep with me? That’s messed up.” His fingers tightened on the mug.
Miriam refilled her coffee, standing with her back to the counter. “Maybe so, but that’s my decision. If you care about me, you’ll respect it.”
She was tired of this conversation, sick of explaining herself to Ben again and again. She knew this was dangerous ground, but she couldn’t handle the same argument all over again.
“Respect it? How about you respect me for once, and do what I ask.”
“If you’re going to be like this, then leave.” Miriam pointed to the door. “I don’t want to argue.”
“I’m not trying to argue. I’m just trying to figure your crazy ass out,” Ben said.
That touched a nerve, and Miriam felt anger welling up inside her, hot and close beneath the surface. “Get out, Ben. Get out now.”
He narrowed his gaze, set down his coffee mug, stood up. His brown eyes were focused on her, angry and dangerous. He loomed over her, his muscular, six-foot two-inch frame blocking her in. A vein in his forehead throbbed beneath his close-cropped black hair. Miriam clutched the coffee in her hands, ready to throw it at him if he lifted his fist. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
“Fuck you, then,” he muttered, and turned on his heel, stomping out and slamming the door so hard it rattled the windows. Tires squealed and his engine roared, and horns honked as he peeled out into traffic. Miriam breathed a sigh of relief and locked the front door. At least he’d been sober this time. She finished her coffee and got ready for work.
*
The double shift dragged by slowly, and by the time it ended at eleven that night, Miriam was thoroughly exhausted. But she was grateful that Ben was off tonight. She simply didn’t have the energy to fend him off—all she wanted to do was collapse into bed and get a good night’s sleep. She hurried through her side work and left through the back, breathing in the fresh, cool night air after the heat of the bar. She shuffled up to the entrance to her apartment.
Ben was sitting on the stairs to her place, smoking, his new phone in his hand. “Hey, baby, I know I should have mentioned it this morning, but I just wanted to say thanks for the phone. That was nice gesture,” he said.
Miriam gave him a quizzical look. “I didn’t give it to you. I thought you’d bought it yourself. I noticed it myself last night. I couldn’t figure out where it came from.”
Ben glanced at the phone and then at Miriam. “These are brand new, just came out at the beginning of the month. I had my old one when we left work last night. I know I did. I thought you’d left it for me before you went home…or something like that.” He took a drag off his cigarette and shrugged, dismissing the subject. “Anyway, I thought you might wanna come over for a bit,” he said.
Miriam cursed under her breath. “Look, Ben,” she began, “I really don’t. I’m sorry, I’m exhausted. I’ve been on my feet since eleven this morning, and I barely got any sleep last night. I just want to go to bed.”
“I’ve been waiting here for you for almost an hour, Miriam. Just come over for a little bit. Please? Just watch a movie with me.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“What the hell does that have to with anything?” He stood up, staggering slightly, slipping his phone in his pocket and tossing the butt of his cigarette to the ground.