Page 71 of Hero Hair
Teala nods quickly, her gaze darting around the room like she’s not sure what to do next. I don’t want to be in front of the windows anymore.
“You really should get curtains in here or something,” I mumble, heading into the guest bathroom.
Turning the knobs, I let the water get hot and stare at myself in the mirror.What the fuck am I doing?Showering and leaving. I get in and take my time, enjoying the hot water—a luxury I haven’t had as of late. I know when Teala enters because she makes noise wherever she goes. At least that’s the same.
“Did you know sloths aren’t the sleepiest animal? They only sleep for like ten hours a day. There’s a snail that can sleep up to seven years.”
That fucking sloth picture isn’t going to make me smile today. All of my friends participating in a Bukkakalypse wouldn’t make me smile today.
I rinse my body, crank the water off, and slide the door open. “You can’t blow my heart open and then give me random sloth facts, Teala. That’s not the way this works.”
She swallows hard. “Blowing loads, not hearts, Macs.”
I lose all the oxygen in my body in one giant rush and get a little dizzy and dark for half a second. When I gain composure, I raise my brows. “That’s it then? I fucked away your issues for the time being and I’m free to go?”
She bites her lip as she looks in the foggy mirror and uses her hand to clear a portion. “This happened when he left, too.”
“I am not your fucking father,” I scream. “I’m a goddamn Navy SEAL. With a job that takes me away. I don’t leave for bitches with wet pussies. I leave because it’s in my job description.”
Teala winces.
“I’ve never given you any reason to think I would do anything to hurt you. I’ve never done anything to indicate I would never come back to you.” I step out of the shower and grab the towel she’s holding out for me. Seething doesn’t describe how pissed off I am. I’m mad at myself for breaking my own rules.
“I gave up an entire life for you,” I yell.
Her eyes widen briefly, but then she shrugs and draws a heart in the steamed mirror. “You shouldn’t have.”
I’m going to break something. Anything. The urge to throttle her rises and I get the fuck out of that bathroom as quickly as I can. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I mutter to myself. “You’re fucking crazy, Teala. Crazy.” I hop into my dirty clothes quickly and rub the towel on my hair so it doesn’t drip. I laugh when I glance at the mess by the bar. Water is the least of the problems right now.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask when she ambles in to watch me.
She’s still naked and dirty. Teala looks through me, her big gray eyes searching for something she’ll never find.
“She’s out shopping now. She’ll be back,” she explains.
Rushing past her, I peek in the guest room and I’m relieved it does look like her mother is staying here with her.
“I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.” She rustles around in a laundry basket next to her, searching for something to put on.
I nod. “Looks like it.”
She seems unperturbed by my subtle dig.
“Do me a favor. Don’t text me anymore. It’s obvious you don’t want anything of substance from me anymore and that’s fine, but I won’t be your boy toy. I can’t.”
She crosses her arms across her chest and leans against the wall. She’s donned a new pair of workout pants. “Fine.” Crossing one foot over the other draws my gaze to the blood oozing through the fabric. “A relationship that began on false pretenses was never going to work out. You know that as well as I do.”
“We’ll never know now, will we?” I clap back, smiling wide, sending dimples and suave charm all up in her business. I’m pleased to see it still affects her. “You’re your own worst enemy. Get help. Please.” You can’t save someone who doesn’t think they’re drowning, doesn’t admit they need a life vest. I have to watch her sink, knowing the powerlessness I feel is preventable…by my own fucking hand.
“You’ve helped me. You could help me again,” she says, licking her lips.
I don’t answer her right away. I can’t. Because my fucking heart wants to take whatever she’s giving, but my mind knows better. The truth is staring me in the eyes.
“The world basically ended. Don’t tell me I’m crazy. Don’t tell me I need to talk to someone,” Teala rattles on as she sweeps up the bloody mess using a broom and dustpan.
With anger subsided, I try a new approach. “Yes, everything is different. The world didn’t end. I’m working on fixing it. A lot of people are. I know someone who you can talk to,” I tell her. The Team psychiatrists are probably overworked right now, but Teala needs help. Desperately. I keep my tone soft as I explain how I could take her to see someone, but she shuts down when I mention leaving again for another mission.
“I see it in my head anytime I shut my eyes, Macs,” she says.
