Reparation(81)

Sick. He definitely looks more sick than shocked.

“You have never mentioned any of this before,” he pointed out. She nodded.

“I know. Petrushka, and then Ellie .., it all made me think. I always thought you were too much for me. Turned out you weren't quite enough,” she managed a laugh.

“So. You want to get married. You want kids. Any sort of time frame for me to work with?” Jameson asked, clearing his throat nervously. Tate had never really seen him look nervous.

“Jameson, you won't ever want those things. And that's okay. It's just not okay with me,” she stressed. “I don't want to waste any more of my time.”

“I'm a waste of time?” he said softly. She shook her head.

“No. You were the best time, of my whole life.”

Suddenly there was a shrill ringing sound, shattering the mood. They stared at each other for a moment, and then she headed over to the phone. Tate knew who it would be – talk about fucking awkward. She glanced at Jameson, then lifted the receiver out of the cradle.

“Hi,” she said in a soft voice, keeping her back to the room. She couldn't look at Jameson, not while she was talking to Nick.

“Hey, so I was thinking, wanna get dinner somewhere else? We can go to the hotel shindig afterwards,” Nick's voice was excited.

“I was looking forward to dinner here. It's ..., it's been a long day. I'm tired,” she sighed into the phone.

“We don't have to do this, you know. We can just do room service, picnic on your floor,” he laughed. Suddenly, she felt Jameson right behind her. He always radiated heat. Like he was the sun.

Just the center of your universe, that's all.

“No, you should be there. I've got a dress ready,” she told Nick. Jameson's hands crept onto her shoulders.

“Are you sure? You sound kinda weird,” Nick pointed out. She managed a laugh.

“I'm always weird, don't you know that about me yet?” she asked.

“He'll never know you the way I do,” the devil whispered in her ear. She shivered.

“Alright, I'll pick you up at your room,” Nick said.

“Tell him you won't be here,” Jameson hissed.

“I'll be ready,” Tate assured Nick.

“Ready for me,” Jameson breathed. She started to shiver.

“See you later.”

“Later.”

She hung up the phone and Jameson's fingers dug into her shoulders. She closed her eyelids. Sighed. He massaged her, though it was more pain than release. Just like she liked. She opened her eyes, shook him off. Stepped away from him.

“You have to go,” she said, her voice thick.

“No.”

“No, you really do. I have to get ready, and get changed. I have plans for tonight,” Tate told him, striding to the door and yanking it open. Jameson didn't move from his spot, just turned to face her.

“I don't give a fuck. I'm not leaving,” he replied.

“Jameson! Get the fuck out of my room!” she commanded him. He shook his head.

“Make me, baby girl,” he taunted. She gaped at him.

“You don't get to do this! You're like a fucking stalker! Get out!” she yelled. He slowly walked forward, but stopped in front of her. Leaned down close to her face.

“You can get as loud as you want. I'm not going anywhere.”

Tate screamed. As loud and as long as she could. Jameson raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he didn't budge. When she finished screaming, she gasped for air, watching him. She could hear doors opening along the hallway. Footsteps running down the hall.

“Loud enough?” she panted. He smiled.

“I've made you scream louder,” he replied. She opened her mouth to scream again, but then there were more footsteps. Someone stood in her doorway.

“I'm sorry, is everything okay?” A security guard asked. Tate cleared her throat.

“He was just leaving,” she said, gesturing to Jameson. He didn't even acknowledge the guard.

“Sir, are you a guest of this hotel?” the guard demanded. Jameson nodded.

“Yes. Under the name Kane,” he replied. The other man stepped back and mumbled something into his radio. A second later, it squawked back. The guard did a double take at Jameson.

“Yes, Mr. Kane. So sorry to disturb you, Mr. Kane. Is there anything I can do for you, while I'm here?” he offered. Tate groaned and Jameson smiled.

“You can leave, thank you,” he replied. The guard tipped his head and then hustled away.

“Sometimes, I really fucking hate you,” Tate grumbled.

“The fact that I am even staying in this piece of shit hotel, shows how much I care. I would like you to make a note,” Jameson told her. She gasped.

“This is a nice hotel!” she snapped.