“You’re right about one thing,” I say, my voice shaking as tears streak down my cheeks with the rain. “Lennox is a good guy. A good man. A better man than you could ever hope to be. That’s why I choose him.”
I turn away, my throat burning, my world burning, my heart nothing but ashes in my chest.
Behind me, Maddox laughs. “If you can’t handle watching, how are you going to handle taking a beating like this from my brother?”
His taunting words follow me across the parking lot, the wet pavement. When I get to Lennox’s car, I have to circle to the other side to climb in.
I won’t look at them. I won’t. I won’t.
Hot tears gush down my face as I climb into the passenger seat. Now that the rain won’t mask my tears, though, I force them to stop. I won’t let him see me sitting in here sobbing. I won’t cry over him. Never again. And definitely not in his brother’s car.
I don’t want to see them, but my eyes betray me, attracted by the movement when Maddox pulls her up off the hood of his car like he’s picking up a dead animal from the road. She stands unmoving while he pulls up her underwear and straightens her skirt.
Then he turns her to face him, and another wave of incinerating, blinding pain hits me as he pushes her hair back and cups her cheek in his palm, turning her face up toward his. I watch his lips move, and I can hear him speak as clearly as if he were in the car with me when he says, “You good?”
thirty
Lennox North
I hurry through the pounding rain and open my door, stopping for only a second when I see Rae in the passenger seat. She’s soaked through, like she was standing outside for a while before trying the passenger door and realizing it doesn’t lock.
“Hey, Sunshine,” I say, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. She winces, and when I pull back, I notice her lip is swollen, and there are traces of blood in the corners of her mouth. I frown and tip her chin up, touching her broken lip gently, even though rage boils up in my gut. No one hurts my girl. “What happened?”
“Your brother,” she says, nodding toward a car a few rows over and two spaces up in the lot. The black Cadillac is running, the vertical taillights glowing red in the stormy grey afternoon.
I reach for the glove box, pop it open and pull out my gun.
“What are you doing?” Rae cries.
“You said he hurt you,” I say, though inside I’m thanking him. The asshole did just what I predicted. All those years of watching him eviscerate hearts has finally paid off. I knew he couldn’t help himself, that he’d hurt her like he does everyone. And every time he hurt her, I was there to pick up the pieces, to hold and comfort her. Each time drove her deeper into my arms, and now she’s mine.
“That doesn’t mean I want you to shoot him,” she says, grabbing my wrist. I open the chamber and see the two bullets I loaded a week ago. Her gaze falls on it too, and for a second, neither of us move.
“Why’s it loaded?” she asks at last.
“You think we just carry guns for show?” I ask, laughing.
“No, but… You had that the other night.”
“I heard you crying,” I say. “I thought you were being hurt.”
“You can’t just shoot someone any time they hurt me.”
“Why not?” I ask, smiling as I lean over to kiss her. “They deserve it.”
She kisses me back, but just a little. Then she pulls back, biting her lip and looking down at my gun again. “Why does it have two bullets?”
I shrug and close the chamber, putting the safety on again. “Must be what’s left from the last time I used it,” I lie.
What took me over that night, that was temporary insanity. Now I’m thinking clear though. No crimes of passion will land me in jail. I’ll be patient, and when the time comes, I’ll make her pay. It takes time to create a masterpiece. Right now, I’m only priming the canvas.
I take her hand and squeeze. “I’m sorry my brother’s such a dick. Let’s get out of here, and you can tell me what happened. I hear ice cream makes everything better.”
“I’m too cold,” she says, a shudder wracking her body. I turn on the car and crank up the heat, rubbing her hand to warm it.
“Then what do you want?” I ask. “Anything. My treat.”
“I don’t know,” she says, then looks at me hopefully. “Maybe doughnuts? And a hot coffee.”