Page 394 of Power Play

“I came for food,” she said. “You’re the one keeping me here.”

I gripped the broom harder. “Well, I came for blood, so there’s the door, mamacita. You don’t want this fight.”

She looked toward it, and the possibility of her walking through sent panic into the same space as the anger. I hated her for making me feel both.

Charm saw something change in my face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did that look like it hurt you?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Stand there and analyze me like you still know what anything on my face means.”

“I do know, and you hate it.”

“You knew me so well that you didn’t understand what I was asking for when I begged you to stand beside me.”

“I understood.”

“That makes what you did worse.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying you know.”

Her eyes filled, and my body responded before my mind could. Every muscle tightened with the instinct to cross the kitchen, wipe the tears away, and tell her I didn’t mean to hurt her.

I stayed where I was. “I don’t want your tears tonight.”

“They aren’t for you.”

“They’re happening in front of me.”

“I can’t help that.”

“You could leave.”

“You could stop me.”

The answer hit hard enough to silence both of us. Charm wiped beneath one eye while she looked over the suit I still wore.

“You look nice.”

I stared at her. “What?”

“Your suit looks good on you.”

I glanced down as though I’d forgotten what I was wearing. “I feel like an asshole.”

“You don’t look like one.”

“You should know better than anyone that appearances don’t mean shit.”

Pain crossed her face, but anger followed it this time. “You don’t have to turn everything I say into a weapon.”