Page 53 of The Company

“That’s true.” He nods, agreeing with me. “Everything in that little book is true. It came from my heart.”

“Your heart? You hated me!”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t hate you, Harper. You were just a little girl caught up in this shit. How could I hate you?”

I untangle myself from his embrace and step back. I need space between us. Because what he says now and what he felt then are polar opposites. How do I reconcile this? “I have your own words in here, James!”

I shake the book at him and he snatches it out of my hand and flings it carelessly over the porch railing and into the dirt yard.

But I am not deterred. Either I let him know I’m not some piece of clay he can mold with his dirty talk and smoldering gaze, or I’ll end up powerless to resist him. “Is lying so second nature to you that this means nothing? You don’t even sweat the fact that I have proof, I read your own words. You’re not what you say you are, yet you smooth it over with the word cock? How fucking dare—”

His mouth crashes into mine. His hand fists my hair as his crushing kiss overtakes all my thoughts. “No!” I push him back, but he’s ready for me.

“Stop, Harper. Forget this book, it’s nothing. It’s just confusion left over from a different guy.”

“I bet you’d like that. Just forget all the nasty things you said about me. Sure. I bet all I have to do is forget that you loathed me and then rename myself Amber, right? Then you’d be all over me—”

“What did you just say?” He shakes me by the shoulders as he stares down into my eyes. He’s angry now. “Answer me!”

“You wrote her a sweet little letter at the end of my notebook, James. So sorry, a cock and a kiss won’t cut it because whatever you’re doing is all about her!”

He opens his mouth. Then turns around and goes inside. I follow him in but he’s already down the hallway, gone from sight. A few seconds later a door slams. I look across the room at the girl and she gives me a small shrug.

“He’s been moody all day. I’m sure it’s not you.”

I glance back at the hallway. It is me. Or at least it’s the name Amber that set him off.

“But at least he didn’t threaten to kill you. He threatened me a lot today. But I forgive him. And so should you.”

I look over at the girl again. “Why?”

She lies down on the couch and closes her eyes, tucking her hands between her legs like the air-conditioning is giving her a chill. “Because,” she says through a long yawn, “he’s all we’ve got.”