He would have stayed and fought because the fight will come to me. It always does.
I lie back and stare at the ceiling as the sound of silent regret hangs around me.
Jiggle, jiggle.
What’s that? I look to the door and see the handle move.
Someone’s trying to get in.
I stand and walk over to the door and watch the handle jiggle again in the darkness.
Someone is trying to get in.
16
I stand back, wondering what I should do. What am I going to do?
Shit. I race over, pick up the gun, and shuffle behind the door. The lock clicks as if a key has been used, and then a figure comes into view. I frown as I try to focus.
I know that silhouette.
“Stace?”
“Hey.” He sighs.
“What the fuck are you doing? You scared me half to death,” I whisper angrily.
He turns to me in the semi-lit room, takes the gun from my hands and lays it on the desk.
I watch him for a moment as he stares at me, despite the darkness.
“I don’t know how to do it,” he murmurs.
“Do what?”
He hesitates. “Walk away from you.”
I smile softly. “I hope you never learn,” I whisper.
Then he is on me, his large lips over mine, his hands roaming up and down my naked body.
“Did you miss me?” he whispers.
“No.” I smile against his lips. “I decapitated your voodoo doll.”
“Smart ass,” he breathes against my lips with a smile. He picks me up and throws me onto the bed. I bounce as a thrill of excitement runs through me. He’s in that mood—the crazy, fuck-all-night mood he gets in.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
He rips his shirt over his shoulders. “In the bar trying to make myself leave.”
I smile and bite my bottom lip as I watch his pants slide down his legs. He’s semi-hard and my eyes linger on his groin.
Oh, he’s just so…
He walks around to the side of the bed as he watches me from above. “Legs open,” he snaps.
I lie on my back and spread my legs, and he smiles darkly as his eyes linger on my sex.