My back finds a solid obstruction, and my escape is inhibited. He’s so incensed by the subject that he doesn’t have a grasp on his anger. I’ve been here enough times to know when a person has lost control, and he’s so far gone that he’s not anywhere near the driver’s seat anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I appease, my hands raised.
“Don’t,” he seethes. “Don’t say something you don’t mean.” Malice paces the room, searching for something he can’t locate.
The tension in the air is so strong that it’s pressing me against the wall, holding me back. I want to run, I need to flee, but his rage has me rooted to the spot.
The aggression hangs so thick that even Rocco has disappeared.
“Where are my fucking keys?” he roars in frustration.
I lift a shaky finger to point them out, yet no words form. In the end, it doesn’t matter. He growls—literally growls like a damn bear—and storms out the front door without so much as a glance my way.
Adrenalin courses through my system from the basic instinct to survive. Without him to focus on, I’m left alone with an abundance of a drug I have no use for. My hands shake uncontrollably, my teeth chatter. Unable to keep my legs stable, I slide down the wall, and sit on the floor in shock.
What have I done?
I’ve left one abusive man for yet another who can’t keep his anger in check. I’ve left the dangers I knew for an unpredictable situation that I couldn’t gauge.
Why did I leave? Why did I trade the monster I know for the animal I don’t?
What was I thinking?
WHAT HAVE I done? I haven’t lost my shit with a woman like that in fucking years.
But she did it—she asked about my family. She sat there throwing a fucking pity-party for herself, and the thought that I might have been through the same or worse didn’t cross her mind. She assumed that she was the only one with issues, the only one who’d lost touch with their family.
What family, jackass?
I need to look at this rationally. I need to set out the facts. I haven’t told her a damn thing about me, so why would she know talking about my family is off-limits? As much as I know I need to apologize, the damn anger pulses through my limbs. Every beat of my heart has a tidal wave of blood surging through my veins. I’m too jacked to attempt to say sorry without risking losing it again.
I could see the fear in her eyes. She thought I was like him. I’m not. Am I? I’m not. I have to believe I’m not, otherwise who will?
The sun does nothing to cool my temper. Pacing on the front lawn does little to ease the urge to smash the next thing I lay my eyes on. A rustle to my left draws my attention, and I glance over to see Rocco belly-crawl out from under a bush.
“Hey, buddy,” I coo. Damn it, I’ve gone so far as to scar the shit out of her dog. “I’m sorry, mate.”
The Lab scoots closer, and lays his head at my feet. I kneel down, and rub him behind the ears. It sickens me to see this animal so petrified of me, yet still begging for acceptance, for love. Begging for recognition.
The epiphany hits me upside the head like a solid right-hook. She’s like this. No matter what happens, I can see it in Jane’s eyes—she still needs to be accepted. One action from an animal, and I understand what she meant by needing to feel someone, or something depends on her.
Rocco jumps back as I stand. I need to tell her how sorry I am, now. He trots behind me while I head indoors, seemingly as keen as I am to get to her. I find Jane where I left her, huddled against the wall.
“I shouldn’t have said any of that. I was out of line.”
She doesn’t look up, or acknowledge the fact I’ve spoken.
“Jane?”
It’s then I notice her hands. They shake at breakneck speed in her lap. Her eyes are glazed over, and although her body is here, her mind is clearly not. I crouch before her, still failing to flag her attention.
“Jane?”
Her gaze slides across to mine. I force down the urge to shiver at the vacancy behind those baby-blues. “Did you hear me?”
She stares for the longest time before shaking her head slowly, from side to side.
“I said, I spoke out of turn before. I shouldn’t have said that stuff. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.”
“But you did.” Her words barely form a whisper.
“What’s going on up there?” I ask, tapping her head.
“Too much.”
“Share some.”
Her gaze slips slowly away, and her mind distances farther from the room her body physically inhabits. I’ve gone and broken a woman who was already ruined.
“Jane, look at me.”
She closes her eyes.