Page 50 of Love, Hate, Love

He turned to me. “Did something happen? I mean more than what I know about?”

Wasn’t that enough? “Just get out!” I managed to say in between sobs.

He stood there as if trying to determine his next move. I continued to crumble and couldn’t seem to stop it.

Kade took a look around and then settled his eyes on me. “It’s freezing. You can’t stay here.”

“Justleave.”

“No.” It was surprising he could get a word out with the way his body seemed to be locking up.

I readjusted the comforter around me, wishing I could throw it over my head and hide from the entire world. My nerves had been frayed since this whole ordeal started, and his presence here right now felt like the final blow that cracked my shell wide open. I’d always been raw around him, but now it was hard to breathe and I was too shattered after hearing about losing my home to keep it together any longer.

He looked around the room and muttered something about this place being a problem, as if he was just discovering it.

“You’re moving to the house. You can’t stay here anymore,” he said.

“Moving? What do you mean, moving?” That word sounded a lot more definitive than staying a night. I inched back onto my cot. “I’m not moving to the house.” What if this meltdown situation was going to be a new thing of mine? Where would I go hide and cry then? Clearly my body was becoming unpredictable.

“Why? You’re showering there anyway. What’s the difference? It’ll be easier than bringing a bag up.”

There? In his lair? Every night? Just the two of us under the same roof? Or worse, the three of us when he decided to have company? No way. Absolutelyno waywas I putting myself through that.

“I shower at Missy’s now, and I’m not moving to the house.” It was hard to sound assertive with all these damn tears still flowing and hiccups accenting my sentences.

“This isn’t open for debate. You can’t sleep here. It’s freezing, and…” He was watching me fall apart as he said, “You just can’t.”

“I’ll move into the bunkhouse until the heat is fixed.”

He locked eyes with me. “The bunkhouse is already tight.”

Had he always been this highhanded and bossy? Had none of my memories of him been accurate? “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t even need a bunk. I won’t be putting anyone out.”

He didn’t budge from his spot. I wasn’t sure how I’d get him out of here, especially in my current state of hysteria.

“What is your issue with staying at the house?” he said.

“You made it very clear I wasn’t supposed to ever set foot in your home. Why would I want tolivethere?” He couldn’t be this dense, could he? Sometimes it felt like we were living in alternate universes and only meeting for these rare conversations where none of our experiences seemed to match up.

He shook his head. “It’s freezing in here. You can’t stay in this place, but you never change. You are as stubborn as you always were. You’ll keep digging even when it’s your own grave.”

“Don’t act like you know me or care about me.” How dare he tell me what I did or didn’t do?

“Except I do, and you can’t stay here.”

“I’m not going to the house.” I got to my feet, getting ready to go toe to toe with him, but I tripped on the corner of my comforter and went sprawling.

But I didn’t hit the ground, as he lifted me off my feet.

“Don’t you dare bring me up there.”

He didn’t so much as pause as he walked out the door and started heading to the house. I was torn between screaming or trying to keep my head buried in the blanket. As it was, I was all tangled up in the comforter.

He made it over to the main house in record time, the heat hitting me as we walked in. He walked across the room and dropped me onto the couch.

I would’ve gotten to my feet immediately, but I had some detangling to do first as I got to my feet.

He blocked my view. “Don’t even think about it. In no world am I letting you freeze to death out of stubbornness,” he said.

---