All of it was too much for me—the bloodstain on the porch, the bullshit with Grease, Brenna thinking she could warn me off, Slider showing up, Cody’s giant fuck-you as he’d sided with his little girlfriend. I wasn’t equipped to handle it, so I shut it down.
Fuck him. I didn’t need this shit.
Chapter 11
Farrah
When someone started pounding on my door later that night, I was expecting it.
Gram had taken me to a discount store on the way home from the barbeque, using some bullshit reason that she needed to stop. She’d ended up buying nothing, which hadn’t surprised me, but I’d come home with a new and inexpensive kitchen table and a shit ton of other household goods.
I’d felt better as we left the store, anxious to get my things home and start setting up, and I was pretty sure that had been Gram’s plan. She’d set out to distract me and it had worked, but only a few hours later I was done washing my new dishes and putting together my furniture, and the distraction had worn off.
So I sat down in one of my new chairs to wait. I’d been there for almost an hour when he finally showed up.
“Hey,” I said, swinging open the door and taking a step back as he reached for me. “Come on in.”
“What the hell happened, Farrah?”
I made my way to the table, the only furniture in the apartment aside from my bed, and sat down, motioning him to the chair across from me. I didn’t want him close; I couldn’t bear for him to touch me when I felt so raw.
Cody looked puzzled as he took in my newly furnished kitchen, but quietly sat down, leaning forward on his elbows to watch me closely.
“Brenna asked me what game I was playing,” I started softly, knowing that sentence would grab his attention. “I hadn’t known what she was talking about at first. When we got there, it seemed like everything was fine. We’d arrived as a couple and I assumed that everyone would respect that.”
“Farrah—”
“No, let me finish,” I said, cutting him off. “I didn’t know what she was talking about until she mentioned you going to the club last night, complaining about me.”
“That’s bullshit!” His chair slid out from behind him as he stood from the table, anger tensing the muscles in his neck and jaw. “I didn’t even see Brenna last night, and I sure as fuck never complained about you.”
“It doesn’t matter, Cody!” I raised my voice above his ranting, my face a blank mask of serenity. “Can you just sit down?”
“I didn’t say shit, Ladybug, I swear to God. I wouldn’t do that,” he replied adamantly as he sat back down.
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you said anything.” I looked down at the table, trying to focus. The next words were harder to say than I thought they’d be. When I looked back up to meet his eyes, he was staring at me in disbelief.
“She asked me what game I was playing, and I didn’t understand it at first, but now I do. We have been playing, playing at a relationship, playing house, playing like this could actually work. It was reckless and stupid, and I don’t want to play anymore.” I swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I fold.”
“No, fuck that. No. You don’t,” he said.
“I’m done.”
“Because you got in a fucking fight with Brenna? That’s why you don’t want to be with me all of a sudden? That’s bullshit, Farrah!” he shouted. Then he grabbed my brand new ceramic fruit bowl from the center of the table and threw it against the wall.
I watched it shatter, barely flinching at the noise before I stood.
“If you’re going to throw a tantrum, could you do it somewhere else?” I asked flatly.
“Why are you being such a fucking cunt? I didn’t do anything wrong, Farrah! I’m in love with you!” He reached across the table and grabbed me by my arms, pulling me over it as I scrambled to find purchase with my bare toes. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated softly, his face close to mine.
“I’m sorry for that,” I whispered back.
It was a direct hit, just as I’d known it would be. His eyes widened for a moment, but instead of the resignation I’d been expecting, something else filled his gaze. He took a step away from me, running his hand over his face as if to calm himself. After a few deep breaths, I watched in panic as his eyes narrowed to slits and he reached for me again. He wrapped his hands around my arms in a gentle but uncompromising grip as his lips pulled back in a menacing grimace.
“You love me,” he whispered harshly.
“Of course I do,” I told him sincerely, trying to defuse the situation. “I love all of you. You’re my family. You guys took me in—”
He shook me once, barely restraining himself, and leaned down into my face. “Bullshit. You’re in love with me. Don’t even try that shit. You want me to be your man so much you can taste it. You want me inside you, wrapped around you, sleeping in your bed.”
“No,” I whispered. This wasn’t going how I’d planned, and I felt tears of frustration burning my eyes. Why couldn’t he just leave? I didn’t want to argue, I just wanted things to go back to how they were before. Safe. Calm. I needed him to leave so I could start to put my life back together.
“You’re so fucking afraid of your own shadow, you can’t see what’s right in front of you,” he said.