Violent Things

“What?”

“Well,” he continued as he ran a hand back through his hair. Bates paused for a moment and draped an arm over the steering wheel as he turned his eyes toward the windshield. “You said you didn’t want the surgery anymore.”

“Oh!” I interceded with a smile. “I think you misunderstood.”

I could see the annoyance in his eyes as he squared his jaw, careful to keep his eyes on the garage door. “Then explain it to me so I understand.”

“Well, I think you’re right. I don’t need to go to a doctor. Not when I have you,” I said, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll do a better job than anyone else ever could.”

He shook his head in frustration before he finally looked over at me again. “I won’t do it.”

“That’s fine,” I shot back in a clipped tone as I pushed the passenger door open.

Bates didn’t know it, but he had made the worst decision possible. Because while he may have known exactly what to do, I didn’t.

And I wasn’t going to let that lack of knowledge stop me.

Then I will, I thought grimly as I walked into the house and slammed the door behind me.