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She’s wearing jeans that fit her better.
Is she dressing up? Why?
She says she didn’t sleep.
What the hell was she doing?
Suddenly I’m sure what she was doing.
What she had to be doing.
And I lose my shit.
She’s shocked at first, but then she gets angry. I don’t care.
How could she do that when I needed her?
I lash out again, shoving a table into a wall.
Stubbs bursts into the room and looks Charlie over like he’s worried I’ve injured her. She turns to leave, and I deal her my deadliest blow, my ace in the hole.
“You really are a stupid cunt whore!”
All color drains from her face. She looks as shocked as if I’d slapped her. There’s anguish in her eyes and defeat in her posture when she leaves. Seeing I’ve hurt her fills me with a perverse pleasure. After all, she clearly didn’t mind hurting me this morning.
“Hey, pussy, pick on someone your own size,” Stubbs demands, striding toward me, his beefy frame moving purposefully.
I look away. “Get the hell out.”
Stubbs cocks his head. “Make me. Or are you just an asshole to women?”
“I’m warning you, Stubbs –”
He scoffs. “What are you gonna do, Chandler? Kick my ass with your crutch?”
“Maybe I am!” I yell, facing him.
Stubbs shrugs. “Fine. Bring it, Pretty Boy. Won’t bother me a bit to beat your crippled ass.” He assumes a widened stance, cracks his massive knuckles, and waits, solidly planted.
I glare at him, and he glares right back. We remain like that for long moments until finally I look away in annoyance.
“That’s better.” Stubbs grabs the straight-backed chair, spins it backwards, and sits down facing me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I growl.
“Waiting for your sorry ass to settle down.”
“Get out.”
Stubbs shakes his head. “Nope. I’m giving you ten minutes. Ten minutes to sit there and figure out what you’re really mad about, because it’s not Charlie.”
“I said get out.”
“And I said ten minutes, asshole. And no more talking.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHARLIE
