“That motherfucking piece of shit,” I curse, bringing one hand off the bed to trace my fingers over a whole slew of burn marks that Phina never showed me.
She quickly sits up in bed and gently pushes my hand off of her skin. I meet her eyes and can’t hide the obvious rage in them. She stares at me and, even though she’s visibly exhausted from her freak out and all of the crying she’s done, there’s still a spark of hope in her eyes as she waits for me to say something else.
“I fucking hate the sick, fucked up bastard who did this to you,” I growl.
Her eyes immediately lose their spark and she drops her head. I try to backpedal, thinking I must have said something wrong, but how could I? Of course anyone who burns someone’s skin with a goddamn cigarette is clearly fucked up in the head AND a bastard.
“Funny, I hate that person, too,” she says softly with her head still down.
I shake my head in confusion, wondering why she sounds so fucking dejected. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about what’s happening right now makes any sense.
She pushes herself up from the bed and walks around me, heading towards the shower. It’s then that I notice matching burns on her other hip and I growl and clench my hands into fists. She pauses halfway to the bathroom, but doesn’t turn around.
“You need to leave.”
I shake my head at her back and walk around the end of the bed, putting my hands on her shoulders to try and turn her around to face me. If she would just look at me and talk to me I could figure out what the hell is wrong.
“Phina, please. Talk to me,” I plead.
She yanks her body out of my grip and continues walking towards the bathroom.
“Just go, DJ. I don’t need you here.”
“PHINA!” I shout in anger as she opens the bathroom door.
She finally turns around and stares at me with lifeless eyes.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My House.”
She slams the door closed and I hear her lock it behind her. I’m so frustrated and angry that I don’t know what else to do. I stomp out of her bedroom and down the stairs, figuring I’ll give her a little time to cool off. She told me to go, so that’s what I’m going to fucking do.
As soon as I get outside and see Jackson sitting there, my anger goes up tenfold. No fucking way am I leaving her here with him. I don’t care if he is her police protection and she doesn’t want me here, I don’t trust anyone at this point after what happened to Finnley. My escort, a ten-year veteran named Marcus Walker, is still parked behind my truck with his car running. I wave in his direction and point back to the house, indicating I’m staying and hoping he can see me, but the interior of his cruiser is dark.
“I just told him you might be a while, heard some shouting coming from upstairs. Everything okay?” Jackson asks.
“None of your fucking business,” I growl.
Yeah, I’m an asshole. Sue me. The guy gets on my damn nerves. Collin told me he and Phina dated back in college and even though I’ve gotten over my issue with Dax, I’m still a jealous fuck at heart.
“Aw, trouble in paradise?” Jackson laughs.
“One more word and I’ll kick your ass all the way to the curb.”
He continues to laugh as he pushes himself up from the top step.
“No hard feelings, man. That one’s a stubborn one,” he says, jerking his head towards the house.
Don’t I fucking know it.
Doesn’t mean I have to like that this douchebag knows it, too.
Turning around, I go back into the house and try not to protest when Jackson follows me inside.
“Just going to grab a bottle of water from the fridge,” he tells me, making his way around me and towards the kitchen.
I glare at his back until he disappears into the kitchen. I don’t like how fucking familiar he is in this house. How the hell does he even know Phina has bottled water in her fridge? She does, I mean who the fuck doesn’t in this day and age, but still. That fuck nut doesn’t know that.
Jesus Christ, I’m losing it.
I hear the shower shut off upstairs and my stomach flops in anticipation of seeing Phina again, hoping the shower calmed her the fuck down and she’s ready to talk. What the hell did I say that was so wrong? What did I do that forced her to put all those fucking walls back up around her heart, refusing to let me in? She opened up to me last night about her father, she told me about the burns and she showed them to me and even let me make love to her instead of fuck her like a crazy person. Something isn’t adding up and my pea-sized brain isn’t grasping it. Is she just upset because of Finnley’s accident? Is the guilt she’s feeling making her relive every horrible thing her father did to her and she’s back to feeling like she’s not worthy of my love? She’s the only one who can answer these questions and she damn well better be prepared to open her beautiful mouth and start talking.