Raw (Page 51)

Raw(51)
Author: Belle Aurora

Clothes, accessories, and shoe boxes fall out onto my bed.

And I’m just standing here thinking, “Um…aren’t we pissed at each other?”

I whisper, “What is all this?”

Not answering my question, he tirades, “Did you know there’s a lady at the mall that you can hire to shop for you? All she needs is measurements and bam, she’s off. Like a f**kin’ machine. You tell her to spare no cost and she spares no cost.” He looks back over his shoulder at me with a knowing look, “Know what I mean?”

Mouth still gaping, I manage an, “Uhh…”

He points to random things on my bed. “Evening wear. Evening shoes. Work wear. Work shoes. Some dresses and everyday clothes. Necklaces and frilly shit. Hair stuff.” He grins, “And there are your delicates.”

Delicates?

Looking up at him with a frown, I lean over and peer into the bag he just pointed to. Picking up a lacey see-through teddy, I squeak, “Lingerie.”

Shaking my head, I ask angrily, “What are you doing here? I haven’t heard from you in a week. You know? When you left me in your bed to recover from a virus and never even called to check up on me?”

Twitch doesn’t flinch. “May not have called, but I knew you were fine. I always know. Just like I knew you needed help with your mandatory drug test, little one.”

I bark back, “You didn’t think I wanted to see you? That maybe I needed yo—” I cut myself off. I won’t let him know how much I needed him then. How much it broke my heart that he could cut me out as if I were just another woman.

He stills, then turns to me. “Needed what?”

“I’d like for you to leave.”

His eyes darken a shade. “Not before I get what I came for.”

My voice drops marginally, “Wh-what did you come for?”

Slowly walking towards me with a purpose, I know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it.

“What you owe me.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands, elbows to my knees.

Lightly rocking on the balls of my feet, I argue with myself.

The f**k are you doing? Enough. This has to stop.

The CD player on the dresser plays softly. One More Night by Maroon 5 plays.

“There you go again makin’ me love you.”

“You stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo.”

My light rocking becomes harsher and harsher, bordering violent. My jaw sets and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. My face contorts with hate and anger. The hands at my head fist tightly. Gritting my teeth, I smack them hard into my brows.

Rage coils low in my gut.

Standing suddenly, I walk over to the dresser and pick up the CD player, yanking the cord out of the wall. Walking with a purpose over to the open window, I throw the CD player out as hard as I can and shut the window.

A muffled crash sounds.

I take it in.

Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply and wait patiently for my heart rate to return to normal.

Turning, I look over to the bed where she sleeps.

Only her bright blue eyes are open. And she saw what I just did.

I’m not used to people being around when I get angry.

She lies on her stomach, her naked back looking pale in the moonlight. The sheet rests low on her back, barely covering her sweet ass. She looks at me without judgement or anger.

And for a second, I’m taken back to a time long forgotten. A time when life was good.

Running a hand through my hair, I sigh and move over to the bed. Sitting next to her, I move her dark hair off her shoulder. I run my fingertips gently from her shoulder, down to her elbow, and back up.

“Hey.” I quietly greet her.

She replies cautiously, “Hey.”

My face softens at the sound of her voice. Fuck.

“I’ll replace the CD player.”

Her face remains passive as she replies gently, “It’s okay. I wanted a new one anyways and you just gave me a reason to get it.”

Fuck me.

Can I do no wrong in this woman’s eyes?

The niggling remains of my previous episode return and I glare at her. She stills immediately and her eyes become fearful. I chuckle humorlessly, “Babe. Seriously. You’re too smart to be with a person like me, and you’re definitely smarter than being one of those chicks who f**ks a guy like me. But I get that you’re diggin’ slumming it.” A cruel smile appears on my lips. “After all, the good girl always wants the bad boy. Doesn’t she?”

Sitting up in the bed, the sheet falls and I’m graced with her naked beauty.

Her beautiful eyes are now sad and misting. Her face is pure fury. So angry she’s shaking, she whispers, “Get out.”

I chuckle low in my throat and roll my eyes at the show she’s putting on. My laughter is cut short when the bedside lamp flies by me and smashes into the wall by my head. Broken glass falls to the floor by my feet.

I turn my glare on her, “You could’ve taken my eye out, Lexi. Fuck!”

Standing and walking across the room, she picks up a crystal vase and throws it at me, hard. I catch it mid-air as she shrieks, “I said get the f**k out, Twitch!”

Tears fall down her angry face; her body trembles in anger, and I feel like an ass**le.

I can’t let that show though. It’s not part of who I am. Not anymore, anyways.

Placing the vase on the desk by the door, I wordlessly slip on my slacks, then my shoes; I take my shirt and jacket in my hands and leave.

Closing the door behind me, Lexi lets out a pained wail.

And there it is.

Just a reminder of why we can’t ever be together.

Chapter Twenty

I thought long and hard about what happened with Twitch last night. I thought for hours and hours about how I feel, and thought even more about what needs to be done.

My mind made up, I decide to visit him at work. And it’s only when I approach his office that I still in front of the door and realize how stupid I must be.

But if I don’t do this now, I’ll never do it. So I have to do this. Right now.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.

Entering without knocking, his irritated face looks to see who has interrupted him. When he sees me, his brows rise in surprise, but he covers it all too quickly. Looking back down at the computer, he types and mutters, “Kinda busy here. What do you need, Lexi?”

Lexi. Not Angel.

I close the door behind me and move two steps forward. My bravado runs out of the open window. “I-I think you need to get some help,” I say weakly.