She started to walk back toward the elevator, when I caught her elbow, my eyes still on her closed apartment door.
“What’s wrong?”
Santana huffed. When I just stood there, she shrugged. “Sage has company. I saw his car down in the parking lot.”
My brows lifted. “And the problem is …?”
“Wade is a dick, and I’m not in the mood to deal with him just yet.” She tugged her elbow free and crossed her arms over her chest, looking defensive.
Something about the way she looked right then told me that it was more than just that. Whoever the hell this Wade guy was, I didn’t like him already. And from the all too brief flash of what I thought was fear, or maybe it was disgust, in her brown eyes, I wanted to beat the shit out of the guy.
I could tell she wasn’t going to tell me what was up with him, so instead of pushing the subject—one I was going to get to the bottom of one way or another—I took her hand and linked our fingers.
“What do we need for this delicious dinner?”
She relaxed as we walked the few blocks to the grocery store. Then she took her time as we went around the store. I knew it was because she wasn’t in a rush to get home while this Wade fucker was still there. I didn’t like that she felt like she couldn’t be in her own home while her roommate’s boyfriend was there. I wanted to take her back, pack all her shit, and take her home with me.
Yeah, sure. Like she would do that.
I had only met this chick that morning, yet I could already imagine the storm that would blow up if I pulled something like that. Still, I was so tempted to do just that, I had to bite down on my tongue to keep the words from exploding out of my mouth.
With the grocery basket now full, she twisted her lips and blew out a long sigh. “Well, I guess we better get back.” She grimaced. “Wade will probably be gone by now. He’s got to work this evening.”
We walked to the front of the store, and I put the basket up on the checkout belt. “Care to tell me about this Wade guy?”
Her left cheek sunk in, and I realized she was biting on it. Without thinking, I touched my fingers to her cheek, rubbing them over the soft flesh. She instantly released the inside of it and blew out a long breath.
“He’s a total douche. Sage is so in love with him that she’s blind to everything about his personality.”
The checkout girl was ringing up our stuff and bagging it. I barely gave her a nod before turning back to Santana.
“Is he mean to her?”
Is he mean to you?
“He doesn’t get physical, if that’s what you mean, but he talks down to her. Sage isn’t the type of person who easily stands up to people, so when Wade talks down to her, she doesn’t take up for herself. She … She just takes it.” She shrugged, then wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t stand it. When he starts talking to her like she’s an idiot, I always run my mouth, which he can’t handle. He’s one of those guys who thinks we mere, little females don’t have a brain cell to share between the lot of us, so when I make him look like the idiot, he pouts and won’t come around for a few days. Which is great, because really, I could do without that assclown. But then Sage gets all pissed at me, which sucks. She’s like a sister to me. It’s just better for us all if I avoid Wade as much as possible.”
I was relieved that it wasn’t the kind of situation where Sage—and Santana by default—was in danger. Still, I didn’t like that she was around that kind of guy. A guy who tore a woman down with words was just as bad as one who did it with his fists. The two weren’t that far of a stretch from each other. If he got his rocks off talking to her like she was a dog, it wouldn’t take much for him to use his hands to get the same reaction.
“That’s thirty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents,” the cashier said before popping a bubble with her gum.
Santana started to move, but I was quicker. Pulling out my wallet, I handed over the cash and grabbed the three bags before taking the change. Santana shot me an annoyed look. I only winked back at her.
“I buy; you cook. That’s an even trade, doll.”
SIX
Santana
I was thankful that Wade’s car was gone by the time we walked back to my apartment. I hated that little weasel. Hated. With every fiber in my being, I hated him. I almost hated him more than …
I gritted my teeth at the thought, but wouldn’t let it finish forming in my mind as I unlocked my front door and led Kale inside. It made my skin crawl that Wade had been there while I was out. After the last time that sniveling little prick had left in a snit, I’d hoped Sage was finally done with him. Had hoped that she could finally—finally, dammit—see him for what he really was.
Obviously, she hadn’t.
There were two reasons, and two reasons only, that he came around. Sex and money. More often than not, it was the former. All too often, though, it was the latter. Sage thought she loved him. Hell, maybe she really did. I had never been in love, so I couldn’t exactly tell her she wasn’t. Regardless, what she felt for Wade seemed more like obsession than love.
As I entered the apartment and headed for the kitchen, I noticed that my roommate wasn’t in the living room. That was normally her favorite room. She camped out in front of the television for days at a time, often sleeping on the couch. It was her sanctuary when she was feeling depressed, especially after Wade had talked to her like she was a damn dog who had peed on his favorite pair of shoes.