Perfect Villain (Dark Lies Duet 1)
Page 42
His dark gaze penetrates me, and I wait for the moment when that feeling in my gut explodes, and I go rushing toward him, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as possible. But the moment never happens. In fact, the only thing I feel is nausea, afraid of what he wants to talk about because if it has anything to do with the other night, I already know it’ll end in a fight.
As he gets closer, I see his eyebrows are drawn down, his eyes gleaming, a permanent dirty look etched into his features, and it’s obvious now that he’s upset.
Great! He tosses the bag on his desk and then pounces on me.
“We need to talk. I hate the way we ended things the other night, and I can’t stand having you think I don’t give a shit about you. It’s just not true.”
I try not to roll my eyes. I don’t believe him, not by a long shot, but I don’t say the words out loud. More than anything, I don’t want to fight. Not here. When I don’t respond right away, he grabs me by the arm and glances over his shoulder, checking his surroundings before pulling me into his office. I grimace at the pressure of his grip on my arm.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice harsh.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Sarcasm drips from his words. A snide comment sits on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back, waiting for him to continue. “Don’t tell me you can’t see it.”
My brows furrow. “I don’t understand, Taj. I really don’t. Nothing is going on with Christian. We’re just friends.”
A vein in his forehead bulges. “Friends?” He puffs his chest. “You think this is about him being your friend.” He shakes his head. “Of course, you would think it’s about me being jealous of him.”
I pull my arm from his grasp and cross my arms over my chest. “Your reaction the other night seemed like jealousy.”
“It’s not jealousy, Siân. It’s…” Frustration is a permanent fixture on his face. “It’s that everything was fine, and then he appears out of nowhere. Suddenly, notes are being left for both of us, and someone carved words I don’t understand into the hood of my car. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence?” He pauses, and my defenses go up immediately.
“If you’re trying to say Christian did this…”
“Look at me, Siân. Look at me and tell me it doesn’t add up. He was fighting with me. He wants you, and he wants me gone. Can’t you see that?” The anguish in his voice bleeds through me. I hear every word he’s saying, but all I can see is jealousy. He’s jealous, and that’s shitty because I’ve given him no reason to be.
I shake my head and take a step back. “I honestly can’t believe you’re accusing him of property damage and attacking you because you’re jealous.”
Taj runs his fingers through his hair. He looks unhinged, and if I had to guess, he hasn’t been sleeping well, probably because he’s worried I’m talking to Christian or hanging out with him. My anger toward Taj mounts, and I want to escape this room and him.
“What will make you believe me?” he finally says, breaking the silence.
“Nothing, because I know Christian wouldn’t do anything you’re accusing him of doing. Plus, you have no proof to tie him to those events.” I purse my lips and hiss, the anger inside me reaching new heights. During all of this, he only sees himself as a victim, and I can’t handle it.
“I’ve been stalked for years, hiding from this person who is hell-bent on destroying my life. I need you to be supportive, to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay, yet you’re more worried about Christian. I understand that someone damaged your vehicle and left you a note, but now you know what it feels like to be me.” I’m so angry I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him right now.
“You aren’t getting it, Siân,” he growls, his voice rising.
My nose wrinkles, and I take a step back toward the door. “No, you aren’t getting it, Taj, and that’s half the problem here.” I whirl around and escape the small office space before he can stop me. I grab my phone off the desk, noticing that I have a reply from Christian.
I’m too caught up in my emotions to respond, and thankfully, students filter into the classroom, making it impossible for Taj to start anything with me again. He would never make a scene or do something that would make him look bad. I watch as more and more students filter into the room, my anger slowly receding to a slow simmer.
When Taj finally comes out of his office, he appears a little more put together. I grit my teeth and ignore his presence, deciding I’ll only talk to him when I must. As soon as class dismisses, I’m out of here.