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I really do hate both of them.
Maybe, right now, this man most of all, because…
Because he made me soft. He made me feel things.For him.
I hate myself, too.
“Go, Hendrick.”
“I didn’t ask you to fuck him, Cat. I asked you to deliver a note.”
“You asked squat, asshole. You stole my shit—”
“Just like you stole from me.”
“—and you sent me there dressed in just your shirt.”
“And,” he says, “you fucked him.”
“Like you don’t fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. He sure as shit does and you two are far more alike than you want to think.” I glare at him. Right now, I’m leaning towards the a.m. alcohol abuse into oblivion. “Besides, it’s not like we’re dating.”
“Magdalena?” He stares at me, then he really takes me in, and he frowns, concern and anger breaking out into a battle on his face. “Fuck—”
“Go away.”
“What the actual fuck?”
“It’s nothing that you haven’t done to me,” I say, side-stepping his hand as he reaches for me.
But Hendrick isn’t easily turned down. He steps in front of me and captures hold of my shoulders. “Magdalena?”
“What?”
His touch is gentle, his tone and expression utterly, violently murderous. The fury burns over him, leaving a haze.
“I’m going to fucking kill the bastard. And you—you—”
“Judging me’s rich,” I mutter, deliberately misinterpreting the anger.
His mouth slashes a line of bitterness. They infamously hate each other, Jac and Hendrick. Want each other dead. But this is the first time Hendrick’s truly meant it. In a hand me a hatchet and I’ll chop him up way.
“I’m not fucking judging you,” he snarls. “I’m fucking concerned.”
It’s like ripping something from me when I say, “It was just sex.”
A muscle moves in his jaw. “I know what it was,” he grinds out. “But you look like Jac beat the shit out of you, Cat. Like he…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, and he doesn’t give me a chance to answer. He just scoops me up and carries me into the bathroom. He sets me on the vanity, and goes to the standalone claw tub and fills it, picking up the bottles next to it, and sniffing each one until he finds a ginger and orange blossom liquid soap and puts some in.
Then he comes up to me. “You know the fuckwit deserves to be beaten, flailed, and killed for this, right?”
“Hendrick…” There’s a part that thrills at his words, but there’s another part which whispers that I liked what Jac did.
I want Hendrick to spill blood for me because liking something and it being the wrong sort of wrong shouldn’t exist, but does.
“For you, Cat. I’ll let him live. Say the word and I’ll burn the fucking world.” He touches his forehead to mine. “Get in the water.”
“You’ve done this before,” I say through lips that don’t feel like they belong to me.
