Page 87 of Hard to Judge

I take the stairs a flight at a time and land on the first floor, startling a server. Without a hint of concern for their well-being,I rush through the restaurant and catch Arlo’s arm before he exits the building.

Beyond I can see Hard following Hailey into the back of Arlo’s car.

“You two tired of me already?” My voice doesn’t betray the rage inside, boiling me alive.

Arlo’s brows scrunch. “It…It’s not like that.”

Hailey told me to take what I want. I draw a deep breath. “Then I’ll come with you.”

His shoulders fall, but his gaze stays on mine.

I grind my teeth.

“Hota?”

My fingers release him like he burned me. He fucking did. He is roasting me alive. I want to rage at him, to scream and to cry and to beg.

How dare you?

How dare you give me hope?

Even after everything, I can’t. No matter how much I hurt, the truth is the truth.

“I’m glad I could help you and Hailey.” Before he can say anything else, I turn away and weave myself to the back of the restaurant. I ignore the strange looks by the kitchen staff, shove out the back door, and head to my car.

My keys ping off the bowl on my entryway table, skitter across the damn thing, and crash onto the floor. I don’t bother picking them up. If I do, I’ll throw them clean across the place.

Only my adoration for my car kept me from breaking every traffic law to get here. That and the little voice in my head that told me to believe Arlo. I’m beginning to think that voice is my delusions manifesting.

I drove toward Arlo and Hailey’s house twice until the small but rational part of me won out. Two bloody times. No way did I want to see them in the midst of a three-way unless I was the guest.

Still, that little voice pipes up.

Arlo has never lied to you. Why would he start now?

Their hands were on my motherfucking thighs one second, and then they were out the door the next.

He wouldn’t let me go with them.

Why the fuck not?

Even if Hard was there in his professional capacity, why couldn’t I see him tattoo either of them? I’m good enough to fuckand watch them fuck, but a tattoo is too intimate for me to be there?

I’m spinning.

“What am I supposed to think?” I pull the black ribbon from my hair and blow my fingers through it.

I shuck my suit coat and strangle it between my hands as I make my way toward my bedroom.

The moment I turn, I freeze.

“Took you long enough.” Arlo sits on my couch. His elbows are on his knees, and his phone is between his hands. He types out a message, then lays the phone on top of his coat placed neatly beside him.

Every scrap of the fort we built and our shared passion is long gone. Everything is back to the way it was. Everything except me.

Arlo has a key to my place. Why wouldn’t he? But he’s never used it to surprise me.

The anger I’d managed for the last hour and a half reaches steam, searing through my veins. I toss my hair tie and coat onto the back of the couch and round it to face him.

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