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She didn’t make eye contact and instead stared out at the view.
One I knew she didn’t give a fuck about either.
But she had made her point.
“Let me know when it’s done,” I said as she stood.
She gave me a faint, almost imperceptible nod of her head.
Then she turned and left without another word.
I leaned back in my chair, felt myself relaxing, even though I hadn’t realized I was tense.
I should have, though.
Even now, when she was gone, Kayla’s presence had much too strong of an impact on me.
I had yet to figure out why and promised I wouldn’t drive myself crazy trying to do so.
Besides, Kayla was doing a good enough job of driving me insane by herself.
I didn’t get it.
All those years ago, when I had made that deal with her, I hadn’t foreseen where I would end up.
I’d called myself doing a good deed, taking pity on her and the piece of shit she called her father, and look what it had gotten me.
No end of problems, all because of her.
I told myself she was just an itch, one I couldn’t scratch so I would instead ignore.
Some part of me whispered that wasn’t true, knew that whatever it was about her that got under my skin couldn’t be so easily shaken.
But I ignored that voice too.
I had shit to do, lots of it, and no end of problems in sight.
I wouldn’t let Kayla—and whatever the fuck she did to me—become another one.
