Everything always does.
Tate apologized. Nick said it was okay. She told him that she liked him, and that she really wanted to be in love with him. Said she could try. He said he wasn't asking her for anything. She said she would try. He told her to calm down, then he carried her into the shower, left her alone with her thoughts.
She turned the water scalding hot, wanting to feel the burn and sting against her skin. Wanting to be punished. Wanting to be absolved.
The sex hadn't been bad. It had been great – Nick was no slouch. But Tate was no nice, normal girl. The whole time he'd been inside of her, she was thinking of someone else. Someone with sharp claws and sharper words.
This is it. This is your choice. I hope you're happy with it.
~14~
“Mr. Hollingsworth,” Sanders' cool voice cut through the din in the cafe.
Ang stood up, held out his hand to the quiet man. Sanders had always made Ang a little uncomfortable. He rarely made eye contact, and then when he did, it was a very direct stare. He was also a lot shorter than Ang, easily six or more inches, so that added to the awkward feeling. But he cared a great deal for Tatum, Ang knew, so he couldn't be a bad guy.
And after almost three weeks of Tatum playing house in Arizona, Ang figured it was time to cut the shit.
“Hey, thanks for meeting me,” Ang said. Sanders barely shook his hand before taking a seat at the table. Then he stared at the wall behind Ang.
“It's no trouble. How have you been?” the other man asked. Tate had said Sanders had spent most of his life in London, but his accent sounded different to Ang. Sharper.
“Good. Okay. Working on a new movie. Helping Ellie with the baby,” he replied.
“Are you and Mrs. Carmichael an item again?”
“No,” Ang laughed. “That was a mistake.”
“A pretty large mistake, if you don't mind my saying.”
“Are you always this blunt?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever. How is Satan?” Ang asked, leaning back in his chair and sipping at his coffee.
“If you are referring to Mr. Kane, he is well,” Sanders replied, not touching the coffee Ang had ordered for him.
“Really? Moved onto the next woman already?” Ang pressed. Sanders finally looked at him.
“If you would like to talk about her, please, don't waste anymore time,” he stated. Ang nodded.
“Alright. She hasn't mentioned him to me at all. How is he handling all this bullshit?” Ang asked. Sanders sighed and his eyes slid back to the wall.
“Not very well. He is very hurt by her. He thinks she lied to him. I think he is a little afraid of her now,” Sanders explained.
“Those retards. All they've managed to do is scare each other, from each other. How do they function day to day?” Ang grumbled.
“Sometimes, I honestly wonder. Without us, I am pretty sure they wouldn't make it very far.”
Ang actually laughed. Sanders could be funny. Who knew?
“Look, I wanted to talk to you cause I'm worried about her. She's been down there for like three weeks now. She's talking herself into staying. Nick is buzzing in her ear, telling her all that shit she thinks she wants to hear. She's going to do something stupid, like move in with him, or marry him, or something. She'll turn back into a Stepford-wife, and ten years from now, she'll be some pill popping alcoholic, just like her mother. I can't handle that,” Ang stressed. Sanders nodded.
“All of this has occured to me.”
“Well, what are we going to do about it!?” Ang demanded. Sanders' eyes met his again.
“What can we do? It seems to Jameson and I that she has made her decision, and it is not us,” Sanders replied.
“You don't mean that. I don't know you very well, or Satan, but I know you guys wouldn't just give up on her. Sanders, she is going to do it. You know her. How often does she make the right decision?” Ang asked. Sanders pressed his lips together.
“Not very often,” he said in a soft voice.
“Please. Help her. She listens to you. She needs you. She's lost. Find her,” Ang replied, his voice low.
Sanders stood up abruptly, startling Ang. He glanced around the cafe, then down at Ang. Straightened his tie. Cleared his throat. Fiddled with his tie again.
“I will discuss these things with Jameson. I can't make any promises. He is very upset. If he won't go, I would be useless. She needs him to find her,” Sanders said. Ang nodded and stood up as well.
“Yes.”
Sanders didn't say anything, just walked away. Ang figured that was kind of typical behavior. He ran a hand through his hair, then pulled out his phone and glanced at it. The background screen was a picture of him, Tatum, and Ellie. Ellie was staring coolly at the camera, one perfectly sculpted brow lifted. Tate was turned towards him, her smile wide as she bit into his cheek. He was sticking his tongue out to the side, almost touching her with it. He sighed.