Page 50 of Crow

“No,” I pretty much moan. “Not that. Toast. Please.”

That’s right. Remember to use your manners.

There you are, you slimy fucking ass piece of shit! We need to fucking talk right the fuck now.

Oof, I can see you’re upset. Also… gross. You’re a mess, sweetheart. Get yourself cleaned up and maybe we can have a conversation.

We’re going to have it when I want to have it.

You know, I think I’m going to stop answering to your demands.

“Crow?”

“Hmm,” I mutter, getting myself upright. By some miracle, the towel is still locked around my waist.

Tarynn rises as well. She can’t stop looking at her hand. Her eyes flick there every few seconds. “Don’t freak out. I know that the word marriage can shake even the toughest guy, but we’re good.”

Everything about this morning should have been a role reversal. I should be the one taking care of Tarynn, reassuring her, looking after her not the other way around.

Fucking rights. Get your shit together.

Unfortunately, Tarynn finishes wiping down the bathroom and washing her hands before she even lets me get into the shower.

As I step under the spray in a now clean bathroom, I still want to die.

I’m sorry Crow. In all seriousness, I am.

“My body,” I growl under my breath. “It’s my body, Raven. My cock. My mouth. My life. You took what wasn’t yours. You took from Tarynn, and you took from me.”

That’s the problem. It’s always been about you. You think this body is yours by rights. I was with you from the start. It’s mine too. How do you feel when you’re in the backseat and I’m the one driving? Do you like being helpless? Do you like getting shoved so far down that you don’t even know what’s happening? That’s how I’ve felt.

I try to drown out the cascade of words, but now that he’s started, he’s not going to stop.

I’ve had to piece so much of our life together. I’m not the one who gets to touch and taste and discover. You know the most basic questions people ask? Favorite food, favorite color, that shit? I don’t even know what my favorite food is. I haven’t tried nearly enough. I don’t have a favorite color. I barely have anything at all. I did keep her safe last night. I didn’t break my promise. I gave her pleasure and she returned it, and that was very much her choice to do so. I might have got a little bit out of hand later, but we were having a good time. I suggested getting married as a joke. I didn’t mean it. I’d had far too many drinks by then. I didn’t realize those tall slushy things actually contain that much alcohol. All I knew was that I wanted to keep her. She’s ours now.

Are you insane? She’s not ours. We’ve known her for five hot minutes.

Borrowing my sayings is the highest form of flattery, you know that, right?

She’s not ours. She doesn’t belong to her parents or anyone else. Kindly fuck off and don’t come back until I have this sorted out.

You were just begging to hear from me. It pissed you off that I was silent. I was trying to think of a way to apologize so you’d actually believe that I never meant to harm anyone.

But you did. That’s the problem with you. You’re always causing harm to everyone else, to me, to your own fucking self. You leave me to pick it all up after and put our life back together. It’s unfair.

Unfair? You want to talk to me about unfair? I’m trying. What the fuck have you ever done? You’ve always treated me as the enemy. Even last night, after I helped you win all that money, you had no desire to let me out to enjoy this, even just for a moment. You’ve never had a true weakness until now. I know it. It’s her. She’s the one thing we’re in agreement over. I’m sorry that I shoved you aside last night when your defenses were down. If we can come to some sort of agreement, I won’t do it again. We both want what’s best for her. For once, can we stop fighting and be a team? I miss you. I’ve always missed you.

I thrust my fist against the tile, stopping just short of shattering it.

I’ve never felt so out of control. I need to fix myself before I can fix anything else. I thought what I had going on in my head was bad before, but this has reached a different level. Worse, I feel like shit, but not just from my pounding head or rocky stomach. It’s not the usual hangover from body swapping with Raven or even from the alcohol, though that does feel horrible.

I’ve been able to tune out Raven’s emotions for most of my life, but right now I can feel his frustration and his hurt. I don’t like the guilt that keeps building up.

It makes me want to react like he usually does. With unhinged violence.

Would he be that way if I gave over more of the time? If I saw him as a real being with real emotions and feelings instead of a constant source of strife that I have to go to war with? Is it a catch twenty-two bullshit scenario where Raven is violent, so I frustrate him, but he’s only violent because he’s frustrated?

Tarynn must have been listening for the shower to shut off. As soon as I’m done, the door cracks and an arm hovers around the corner with a handful of fresh clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt.

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