As he fell silent, she wrapped her arms around herself. In a whisper, she said, "All this just because I didn't want to be knocked out?"
"It's not just about the needing. You know it isn't. If I were you, I'd take Jane's advice and talk to someone. Maybe. . . " He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't fucking know anything anymore. The only thing I'm sure of is that we can't keep doing this. It's getting us both worse than nowhere. "
"You feel something for me," she said, kicking her chin up. "I know it's not love, but you feel - "
"I feel sorry for you. That's where I'm at. Because you're just a victim. You're no one but a victim who likes to suffer. Even if I could fall in love with you, there's nothing about you to get truly attached to. You're just a ghost who's not really here. . . any more than I am. And in our case, two wrongs do not make a right. "
At that, he turned his back on her and walked out, leaving her to reel in pain and loss, leaving her to confront his twisted vision of her past, her present, her future. . . leaving her alone in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that she was by herself.
The door, as it shut behind him, made no sound whatsoever.
Chapter Sixty-One
As Tohr stepped out into the hall, he was crazed, incoherent, on the verge of a violent breakdown. Jesus Christ, he had to get out of here, get away from her. And to think he'd called her insane?
He was a fucking madman at the moment.
When he looked up, Lassiter was right in front of him. "Not now - "
The angel hauled back and cocked him so hard, he didn't just see stars; he saw whole fucking galaxies of them.
As he hit the concrete wall behind him, the angel grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him back again, rattling his molars.
When his vision finally cleared, that pierced face was nothing short of a demon's mask, the features distorted by the kind of anger that required a gravedigger's cleanup.
"You're an asshole," Lassiter barked. "A total fucking asshole. "
Tohr tilted to the side and spit out blood. "Was it Maury or Ellen who taught you to judge character. "
A long finger was shoved into his face. "Listen to me very carefully, because I'm going to say this only once. "
"Wouldn't you rather hit me again? I know I'd get more out of it - "
Lassiter threw him into the wall again. "Shut up. And listen to me. You win. "
"Excuse me?"
"You've got what you wanted. Wellsie's condemned for eternity - "
"What the - "
The third slam cut him off. "It's over. Done. " He pointed to the closed door of Autumn's room. "You just killed your chance when you ripped her apart. "
Tohr lost it, his emotions detonating. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about - you don't know shit! You haven't had a clue about any of this, not me, not her - not your job! What the fuck have you done here for the last year? Nothing! You've been sitting on your ass watching talk shows while my Wellsie's disappearing! You're a goddamn waste of time!"
"Really. Okay - you're so fucking brilliant, how about this. " Lassiter released him and stepped back. "I quit. "
"You can't quit - "
Lassiter flashed his middle finger. "I just did. "
The angel turned away and stalked down the hall.
"You're fucking quitting! That's great - fucking great! Talk about staying true to someone's character, you selfish son of a bitch!"
All he got was another bird flipped over the shoulder.
With a vicious curse, Tohr made a move to go after the guy, but then stopped himself. Spinning around, he threw out a quick jab, punching the concrete so hard, he felt his knuckles break. And what do you know, the pounding pain in the back of his hand wasn't even close to the agony in his chest.