The Arrangement Anthology 2(191)

He stops. His body tenses, shoulder blades nearly touching, and he rounds on me, getting up in my face.

“I don’t deserve it? I’m the one who was unfaithful and got knocked up? Oh, wait, that was you!” His eyes narrow into thin slits, and the way he looks at me makes me worry. The old Sean is still there, waiting to consume him. I don’t know how far I can push without destroying him. The wind whips my hair into my face. I shove it back and launch into it.

“You put me with him! I wanted you, but where were you, Sean? Gone! You weren’t there when I needed someone the most! You’re never there!”

Tears fall from my eyes. I’m using his insecurities against him, driving the wedge between us so hard we’ll crack apart and never recover. There won’t be anything left after this. He’ll walk away from me.

“I was taking care of people I love. Some of them have gotten into deep shit, and you know what? No one else helped, but I could, so I did. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold your hand and coddle you. I’m sorry I made you hang out with a rock star and dress like a slut on stage and dance with him. If I’d never done that, I wouldn’t have lost you.”

As he speaks, the bluster in his tone dies down, and his gaze softens. No! He can’t forgive me. What the hell is he doing? He was supposed to fight back, but he’s backing down. I shove his chest hard, and he steps back. I do it again, slapping hard.

“That’s not good enough! You were never around! You put everyone else before me, even your mother! She didn’t even love you! You ran into a fucking war zone for someone who hates you!”

Sean remains utterly still. His chest doesn’t rise or fall. His eyes don’t blink. His lips are the only thing that move, and as I speak, they part and his jaw drops lower and lower. Every shot is below the belt, precisely aimed to eliminate any fondness he still felt toward me. I prey on his weaknesses and vulnerabilities. The Sean I love, the open version of him that was so hard to draw out, will never appear again.

I lock my jaw in place and tense the muscles to prevent their quivering. I’m ready to cry, but I can’t. He’ll know what I’m doing if I suddenly break down weeping.

Finish this.

Mashing my lips together, I cast the final stone, the one that will shatter everything.

“I never loved you. How could I? You’re a monster, Sean Ferro. You were my mark from day one. Miss Black wanted you on her client list, and I told her I’d get you to sign." As I speak, the muscles in Sean’s arms cord tightly until the vein in his neck jumps up. It’s pulsing hard, anger flooding his body. His hands flex into fists. I keep talking, spewing lies until he cracks. "It was never about you. I wanted your money, and she wanted her thumb on a Ferro. You were a business acquisition, and nothing more.”

He rushes at me, his hands on my shoulders gripping me hard. His blue eyes are somewhere between livid and wounded. His voice is barely audible.

“You don’t mean that. None of that is true.”

“You’re so naïve. You only see what you want to see; you’ve been played. Your first instinct was correct, Black set you up and you fell for it.”

He works his jaw for a moment and then asks, “How could you do this to me?” His eyes meet mine, holding my gaze, waiting for the answer that will destroy him. My words will send him straight back to the hell he resided in for so long. My lips part and I know what I need to say, but the words won’t come. I start to tremble and then manage to twist away from him, pulling out of his grip. I step back once, and then again. I’m standing between the grass plants on the dunes. Looking at the sand, I spit it out. I have to. He has to walk away, or he’ll die. My lips quiver slightly, but my voice is firm and flat.

“You murdered your wife and unborn child. Do you really think I’d have any empathy for a wife killer? Who needs family planning when you’re around?”

I look up as I say the last part. I have to make sure he believes me. I watch those blue eyes fill with anguish as I speak. For a moment, he says nothing. Then Sean falls forward, face-first into the sand. My eyes widen when I see a man standing behind him with a gun in hand. I glance back down at Sean to see red blossoming from a single point on the back of his shirt.

The man is thin with dark hair peeking from a once-shaved scalp. A tattoo wraps around the back of his skull. I can’t tell what it is from here. Every muscle is showing through his tanned skin, corded tight, like rope. He tips his head to the side, and four other guys--huge scary looking men--immediately flank him.

“Take out the trash.”