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Do I let her go?
CHAPTER 33
Sadness
Hunter
I watch Zach pacing back and forth, narrowly avoiding the broken glass that’s all over his beautiful hardwood floor. Whatever was in the bottle when he threw it against the wall is now running down, running the paint job. I think there’s a small crack in the wall as well.
I have no idea if I should try talking to Zach or leave him alone.
“Did you go out with Brandon Karlsberg?” The question shocks me to my core. That is the last thing I was expecting to hear from Zach. Where did this come from all of a sudden? Is this what’s eating at him right now?
“I… What?”
“It’s a simple question,” Zach shrugs in a condescending move.
“Uh, yes, but…”
“Did he touch you?”
This question shocks me more than his first one.
“What business of yours is that, Zach?” I decide to turn the tables on him. Yeah, I could explain myself and clear any misunderstanding he may have. But I am tired. He always seems to be thinking the worst of me. Always shooting first, and asking questions later. Fuck that.
“So he did,” he says in an accusatory tone.
“Yeah, so?” I cross my arms over my chest and brace myself for battle. I didn’t think I had anything left in me. I’ve been going with the flow, and along with everything Zach asked of me. But this is plain dumb, I decide.
He turns his back at me, hands hooked at the back of his head as he stares out the window.
“Pack up,” he growls at me. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, first thing.”
“And where are we going?”
“New York,” his response is instant, and I relax. We were supposed to leave for New York next week. This only speeds it up by a few days, so whatever. Hopefully this will also calm his ass a bit.
I don’t bother saying anything else. I turn on my heels and march up the stairs where I head straight to the closet in the master bedroom. I get my suitcase ready, then get in the shower to wash the grime of the day off.
I am startled when I feel Zach’s naked body at my back just as I step into the shower stall. I didn’t even hear him coming upstairs or walking into the bedroom we share.
His long arms wrap around my shoulders and over my arms, crossing over my breasts, with each one of his hands cupping my breasts and caressing my nipples.
I don’t want to respond to his touch. Better yet, I am so mad at him, I don’t want him to touch me. He gives me whiplash with his behavior toward me. I am tired and I don’t want to care anymore. I love him, and I thought I was prepared to be his doormat for the rest of my life, but no more.
His lips fall to my neck, licking up and down, focusing more on the sensitive spot behind my ear. I shiver in pleasure, moving my head to allow him access.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” I close my eyes and whisper. I am not sure if Zach heard me over the sound of the water running, but I needed the words to be out there, for me.
His hands are kneading my breasts, almost painfully so. I relish in every moment he is giving me even though he is not giving me any words. Those are what I crave the most.
He releases his hold on me only to turn me around.
“Zach,” I murmur when I see the feral look in his eyes.
“I don’t know if I can let you go again.” It’s in the way he touches my face with shaky hands that does me in, and I start crying. I press my hands to the middle of my chest, trying to alleviate the pain there. My heart hurts for us.
“Zach,” I repeat his name through gut wrenching sobs. I can’t believe I have him back, but not in the way I had him before.
