around my throat. Rage was a living, breathing thing inside of me. I exhaled. "Fuck, this was a mistake."
She tried to protest, but my blood was boiling in my veins, my heart sounding in my ears. I wanted to shout at her, grab her and shake her. I wanted to throw her down on the couch between us and kiss her until her lips were raw. I wanted to feel her nails gouge rivers down my back as I fucked her so hard we had no choice but to be one heart again.
"I mean it. Get the hell out of here. "
I didn't mean it. Of course I didn't mean it.
But Scarlett turned to leave all the same. Her shoulders sagged. She had always held her head so high, even when life gave her no reason to do so. A flicker of pain passed across her face, and my heart squeezed hard in my chest. As angry as I was, I still wanted to hurt whatever had hurt her.
And right now I knew it was me.
"Don't," I said. "Stop."
She turned slowly, keeping her eyes on me, wary of any sudden moves. I hated how she was looking at me right now.
Her voice was so low I had to lean over the couch to catch her words. "Why did you agree to see me if you didn't want to talk to me?" she half-spoke, half-whispered.
"Because—" I struggled with the words and finally decided to just fucking say them. "Because you called me." Finally, I didn't say, but she definitely heard it. "Because it sounded like you were ready to talk. Are you ready to talk, Scarlett?"
Her eyes darted everywhere but my face. My anger, which had softened just a little, rose each moment she refused to look at me. "This is my job, Keir," she said. I hated the note of begging in her voice. That's not how I wanted her to sound. Not to me. I didn't want her begging anything from anyone.
"Bullshit. You've got too much integrity to pull something like this without reason." I narrowed my eyes. "Or maybe you actually don't? After all, you never had the fucking integrity to tell me why you left."
Scarlett went on her toes and turned, jabbing her finger into the down button on the elevator. "This was a mistake. You're right. There's too much shit. It would take too long to hash out. I'm just going to go."
Anger licked like flames along my cheek. "No," I roared.
She flinched, which only made me angrier. I hated that I was scaring her, but I hated her leaving even more. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to saunter casually back into my life after five fucking years, Scarlett! Why did you leave? That's not a fucking question, that’s a demand. You owe me a fucking explanation."
She lifted her chin, and I saw her jut out her lower jaw in a pretty good imitation of what Rane called my "bulldog face." Scarlett always did that, mirrored my faces with her own. It made me careful back then, but now I didn't give a shit. "I left," she said, her voice impossibly low, "because I needed to, Keir. And that’s all that should matter if you loved me."
"If?" I was shouting now and I couldn't seem to stop. " If I loved you? If you knew me at all, you know that there never was any such thing as if , Scarlett. Why don't you tell me the real reason?"
She twisted her fingers around her left hand, and my eyes went to where the ring should be. Five years later, who knew where we'd be if she still wore it? Maybe we'd be parents already, with a house on the coast. Two little kids running around, one blonde, one with dark hair, and both of them with her face.
She opened her mouth, and I braced myself for the revelation that never came. Instead, she let out a small, stifled sob. "Keir, please. I need this interview. My job is on the line, and I have rent coming due, and I had to rent a car to come out here because mine's in the shop. Could you please...just help me out?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. She knew. After all these years, she still knew my fucking kryptonite. She had a problem. A problem I could fix for her.
"Yeah," I heard myself saying. "Yeah. I can help you."
Then I stepped aside and let her back into my
She tried to protest, but my blood was boiling in my veins, my heart sounding in my ears. I wanted to shout at her, grab her and shake her. I wanted to throw her down on the couch between us and kiss her until her lips were raw. I wanted to feel her nails gouge rivers down my back as I fucked her so hard we had no choice but to be one heart again.
"I mean it. Get the hell out of here. "
I didn't mean it. Of course I didn't mean it.
But Scarlett turned to leave all the same. Her shoulders sagged. She had always held her head so high, even when life gave her no reason to do so. A flicker of pain passed across her face, and my heart squeezed hard in my chest. As angry as I was, I still wanted to hurt whatever had hurt her.
And right now I knew it was me.
"Don't," I said. "Stop."
She turned slowly, keeping her eyes on me, wary of any sudden moves. I hated how she was looking at me right now.
Her voice was so low I had to lean over the couch to catch her words. "Why did you agree to see me if you didn't want to talk to me?" she half-spoke, half-whispered.
"Because—" I struggled with the words and finally decided to just fucking say them. "Because you called me." Finally, I didn't say, but she definitely heard it. "Because it sounded like you were ready to talk. Are you ready to talk, Scarlett?"
Her eyes darted everywhere but my face. My anger, which had softened just a little, rose each moment she refused to look at me. "This is my job, Keir," she said. I hated the note of begging in her voice. That's not how I wanted her to sound. Not to me. I didn't want her begging anything from anyone.
"Bullshit. You've got too much integrity to pull something like this without reason." I narrowed my eyes. "Or maybe you actually don't? After all, you never had the fucking integrity to tell me why you left."
Scarlett went on her toes and turned, jabbing her finger into the down button on the elevator. "This was a mistake. You're right. There's too much shit. It would take too long to hash out. I'm just going to go."
Anger licked like flames along my cheek. "No," I roared.
She flinched, which only made me angrier. I hated that I was scaring her, but I hated her leaving even more. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to saunter casually back into my life after five fucking years, Scarlett! Why did you leave? That's not a fucking question, that’s a demand. You owe me a fucking explanation."
She lifted her chin, and I saw her jut out her lower jaw in a pretty good imitation of what Rane called my "bulldog face." Scarlett always did that, mirrored my faces with her own. It made me careful back then, but now I didn't give a shit. "I left," she said, her voice impossibly low, "because I needed to, Keir. And that’s all that should matter if you loved me."
"If?" I was shouting now and I couldn't seem to stop. " If I loved you? If you knew me at all, you know that there never was any such thing as if , Scarlett. Why don't you tell me the real reason?"
She twisted her fingers around her left hand, and my eyes went to where the ring should be. Five years later, who knew where we'd be if she still wore it? Maybe we'd be parents already, with a house on the coast. Two little kids running around, one blonde, one with dark hair, and both of them with her face.
She opened her mouth, and I braced myself for the revelation that never came. Instead, she let out a small, stifled sob. "Keir, please. I need this interview. My job is on the line, and I have rent coming due, and I had to rent a car to come out here because mine's in the shop. Could you please...just help me out?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. She knew. After all these years, she still knew my fucking kryptonite. She had a problem. A problem I could fix for her.
"Yeah," I heard myself saying. "Yeah. I can help you."
Then I stepped aside and let her back into my
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