Page 47 of Kings Fear No One
I walk through the door unsure of how I’m going to address the inevitable questions. She’s going to want to know what I’ve been up to, why I didn’t answer her texts. I had asked Mace’s fiancée Sydney to take her out for the day. Give her something else to do besides mope around my apartment. Even gave her cash to buy herself some things.
But it doesn’t seem to have helped. She’s as nosy and needy as ever.
I head into the kitchen as she sits up on the couch. “Where have you been?”
“Why are you still up?”
I’ve popped the tab on a can of beer that I’ll be taking with me into my bedroom. Any person with common sense would get the hint that I’m not in the mood for company. Teysha either fails to understand or she doesn’t care as she follows me.
“I’ve been waiting for you! Did you see my texts?”
“I haven’t checked my phone. There were more important things going on.”
“Were you out drinking? Out partying at the club? Were there other women there?” she asks in a tone that shakes with emotion. “Why won’t you ever tell me what you’re doing? Why won’t you ever take me with you?”
I scowl. “Teysha, lower your damn voice.”
“I’ve… I’ve been waiting for you!” She rushes ahead of me to block my path. “Why won’t you just try?”
In no damn mood to play these games, I grab her by the arm and drag her out of my way. “I don’t have time for this shit! Move out of my way.”
“You owe me an explanation!”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
“I’m your wife!”
It’s a cold, hollow feeling that pits deep and makes me bark out a loud laugh. I’m about to hurt her, yet I don’t give a single fuck that I am.
Just like earlier with Mace.
Teysha’s now the stand-in for my anger. My twisted, bitter feelings about all the shit that’s happened. It wouldn’t be the first time, and since we’re stuck together for the time being, it probably won’t be the last.
She must know I’ve got severe mood swings by now.
“You ain’t my wife, and I ain’t your husband,” I snap. “Let’s get that straight right now.”
I can feel her heart breaking. I can sense the tears welling up in her eyes.
Yet I don’t give a damn. I don’t have a single fuck to give about what I’m doing.
Maybe she should’ve done the smart thing and gone home, after all. At least then she wouldn’t be subjected to this.
Bringing the beer can to my lips, I down another large mouthful, then head into the bathroom. It’s as I flick on the light and tug off my t-shirt that Teysha gasps.
All my scrapes and bruises.
My busted lip and purpled ribs. The tiny cuts up and down my knuckles.
It’s been hours and I haven’t tended to any of them.
“You got into a fight?” she asks weakly.
“Something like that.”
“I wish you’d talk to me.”
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
