Page 125 of King of Pain
Spencer chuckles. “Relax, QB1. Just trying to lighten the mood. I’m good in a courtroom, but not at… whatever this is.” He gestures vaguely at me.
I turn away from the bar door, place my hands on my knees, and try to catch my breath.
Those two idiots are still bickering, but I can’t make out a word of it.
My pulse is hammering too hard in my ears.
The door to the bar swings open.
I don’t have to turn around. I know.
I feel him even though I can’t see him.
Chance.
His presence is like a phantom limb, something I swore I had lost forever but still aches in places I thought had gone numb.
“Ant,” he says, his voice cautious, measured.
I shake my head, my jaw locking. “Don’t.”
“I just—”
My voice cuts through the air like a blade. “I said don’t.”
Silence.
I stare straight ahead, refusing to turn around and look.
“Ant,” he tries again, stepping closer. “Please. Just look at me.”
I don’t move.
Seconds stretch, thick and suffocating.
I clench my fists, exhale sharply through my nose, and finally turn.
Chance’s eyes search mine. Wild. Desperate.
“You get three minutes,” I say, my voice cold as steel.
He hesitates, confusion flickering across his face.
“Three minutes,” I repeat, stepping closer. “One for every year you left me here.”
I hear the commotion before I see them—Jen and Lexi, both coming out of the bar. Jen is watching the scene unfold, arms crossed over her chest like she’s waiting for a reason to go off, while Lexi looks like she’s barely containing the urge to lunge at Chance herself.
Good.
Chance steps even closer, his hands raised slightly like he’s trying to approach a wounded animal. “Ant, three minutes isn’t enough. It’s going to take a hell of a lot longer to explain everything.”
“Why should I even consider giving you the time?” My voice is sharp, cutting, but it’s nowhere near as vicious as the fury in my chest.
Chance huffs a breath. “Because I can explain. It’s not as simple as you might think.”
I scoff. “It’s not that complicated, Chance. You got me to open up to you, to accept myself.” My voice cracks, but I push through it. “Then I gave you my heart, and—”
I square up to him, pushing him back by the shoulders with each word.
