I blow out my breath before I take a drag off my smoke and roll my eyes. “Maybe they got smart and decided to fuck off after I got lost.”
“Or maybe you’re lying!” he screeches at me.
I sit up a little in my chair, smooth out my jeans and tilt my head toward to the left.
“What do you want me to say right now?” I ask him, my patience starting to wear thin.
He comes over and angrily kicks the chair between my legs, probably expecting me to react, and when I don’t, he picks up my ashtray and lobs it through the window behind me, shattering it with a loud crash.
“You don’t have a job I don’t know about, do you?” I ask without turning around to survey the damage.
“What?” he asks in frustration.
“Well, you just busted my window. Someone is gonna have to pay for that,” I reply with a shrug.
“How about the same price I always fucking pay?”
I’m confused until he begins to undo his belt, whips it across the room, and drops his pants. Normally, I’d take him up on this offer, but I’m not feeling very frisky at the moment.
Not even when he turns around and yanks his skivvies down to his ankles.
“Do us both a favor and put your clothes back on,” I say as I look away. Frisky or not, I’m not exactly one to turn down the offer of a free hole, but I’d hurt him way more than he’s used to right now and that would put him out of commission for a while.
What fun would it be if I had to take care of myself for a while?
“Admit that you saw her!” he shouts after he pulls his pants back up.
I roll my eyes, take a drag off my smoke, and look him directly in the eyes. “I saw her.”
“See? I knew you were lying!”
I clear my throat, take another deep pull, and blow out a stream of smoke.
“What did she say? Did she say something about me? Why isn’t she here, Lakyn? You promised!”
I get to my feet, tired of the barrage of bullshit he’s throwing at me and take a step toward him.
“You can’t hurt me anymore, Lakyn. You wanted my balls to drop? Well, guess what? They’re hanging low now, so unless you plan on telling me what Bea said, I suggest you back up.”
His tone is low, even, strong.
All the things I never expected from him but kind of always wanted.
And I have the power to ruin his life right now. To tell him that his beloved Bea doesn’t give a fuck about him—just like I always said—because she doesn’t even remember him.
“Feeling tough?” I ask, blowing a stream of smoke into face.
“You broke your promise, Lakyn!” Ichabod grunts as he uses his strength and shoves me back roughly into my chair. I wish this were a different circumstance because I would be turned on as fuck right now by this little display.
With a chuckle, I shake my head and get back to my feet, giving his arm a slap as I walk by him.
“You’re right. Sorry I let you down,” I say over my shoulder as I make my way to my room. I expect him to call after me, or continue his tirade about Trixie, but I’m pretty sure I’ve stunned him into silence when I make it all the way down the hall without a peep.
Once inside, I stub the cigarette out in the ashtray on the dresser, then close the door behind me, flipping the switch in place to lock it and keep him out, or me away from him. It doesn’t really matter either way. Turning away from the door I drop onto the bed and toss my arm over my eyes.
Just leave me the fuck alone.
Two
The Countdown Starts
Ichabod
I’m shaking as Lakyn walks past me and down the hall, and I can’t make myself turn to look until I hear the door shut. I’d been prepared for a hundred different reactions after I slapped the cigarette out of his mouth. I figured he’d laugh, or yell at me, or hit me, or fuck me.
Hell, I’d been prepared to die just to get all of the betrayal off my fucking chest. But that’s my own fault. It was stupid of me to believe he’d bring Bea back.
After all these years I should know that hope only serves to eat me alive from the inside out… but I’d let myself feel it anyway.
I’d believed him.
So fucking stupid.
The anger had surprised me, though. I barely remember deciding to slap the cigarette away… it just happened. Like once I’d uncorked all of that rage, all of that miserable fucking hope that Bea would be sitting in that SUV when Lakyn finally came home—I hadn’t been able to stop.
I’m going to pay for it.
All of it.
I know it, but even though I’m still shaking from the lingering adrenaline and the raw fear that’ll hit me as soon as I process what the fuck I’ve done… I just don’t care.
I can’t.
Lakyn always says he keeps his promises, but this time he lied. He deserved to know that, even if all I have waiting for me now is more pain. My breath shudders as I force myself to walk down the hall, pausing at the bedroom door to listen.
I don’t know what I expected to hear. Maybe him breaking shit, or blaring Blondie, or something, but the silence is almost more eerie than just how fucking calm he was when I lost it.
This is bad.
When Lakyn is quiet it’s always just the calm before the storm. It’s when he’s thinking, planning, plotting, and I know it’s my death this time. I should welcome it. After all, what the fuck do I have to live for? Another twenty years of being Lakyn Meyer’s favorite fuck toy? His clean-up bitch?
No one would sign up for this life.
So why do I still want to live?
The trembling in my hands is way more fear than anger now, and I hate myself for wanting to survive a little longer. I hate myself for thinking that maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see Bea again. Hope is like a fucking cancer, and I’m terminal with it, which only leaves me one choice.
Rapping my knuckles gently on the door, I clear my throat and call out quietly. “Lakyn?”
Only silence answers me so I lick my dry lips and try again.
“Can I come in?”
I wait, straining to hear over the vague hum of the air conditioning, but there’s nothing. I grab the doorknob and try to turn it, but it stops almost instantly. Locked.
He locked me out?
This is new. This is definitely new. And about as weird as the fact that Lakyn didn’t knock me to the fucking floor when I came at him. He hates it when anyone touches him, and I shoved him into his goddamn chair—but he didn’t do anything.
Fuck, he told me I was right, which means something is seriously wrong.
Knocking lightly on the door again, I speak a little louder. “Lakyn… are you okay? Listen, I’m sorry I got so upset. I promise I’ll tape up the window, just talk to me.”
Silence.
The damn house is as silent as when he left me here, alone, promising to bring Bea back with him. Except now he’s back, but there’s still so much distance between us and somehow that's even worse. I hate it. I hate him.
"Lakyn!" I shout, banging my fist against the door, knowing that I'm poking the proverbial bear and fully expecting him to rip the door open and hurt me—but he doesn't. He doesn't even fucking answer me. "Fine! You want to lock yourself in there, do it. I'm leaving."