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Not even thanking her.
“Enjoy your space. Perhaps Puppet Boy can spare some time for me.”
“He. Can’t.”
My curtness receives an instant arched eyebrow.
“He is also currently unavailable for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m sorry, you’re both unavailable for the foreseeable future?”
“Yes.”
“Foreseeable as in you don’t know when you’ll step out of your bat cave here? The bat cave I’m not allowed in?” She lets her head cock to one side, disbelief deepening. “You’re basically saying you don’t know when you’ll see me again? Me, your pregnant fiancée.”
“I just need…” one hand lifts to give the side of my face a sobering scrub. “Some…time, Brynley.”
“Then I guess I’ll just go find someone who can spare some for me, Weston.”
Unbridled ire savagely spews past my lips, “What are you gonna do? Run away to another state? Go have an affair? Become exactly like my fucking father?”
Shock sends her mouth to the ground. “What?!”
“Just. Go.” Kicking my chin to the open door she’s near occurs before another word can leave her mouth. “Close it behind you.”
“No.” Familiar defiance is attached to her exiting movement. “Close it your goddamn self.”
Her stomps away are echoed by mine crossing the room.
Reaching the desk.
Lifting the glass of aged liquid up to my lips.
I shouldn’t do this.
I shouldn’t have a sip.
I shouldn’t start down this path.
Nothing good will come of it.
Nothing good every fucking does.
Glancing over my shoulder at the sprawling packages containing only Commissioner Gordon knows what evidence convinces me to concede.
To cave.
To give into the darkest and dirtiest temptation I can fathom.
Just like my father did.
Chapter 15
Brynley
Valora: What are the new potential dates?
Valora: We may need to reevaluate mood and color boards again.
