Page 56 of Hearts Held
I’ve seen smiles likethatbefore.
He gestures between us with his hands. “You know I wasn’t done with our evening, Brielle.” The back of one of his hands glides down my upper arm. “In fact, I was just getting started.”
In a swift reaction, I swat at his hand. I wonder where Piggy is, then realize I left him outside like a moron.Fuck.
Dr. Brendon narrows his brows. “That’s no way to act toward a guest in your home, let alone one who paid for your dinner,” he bluntly exclaims.
My nostrils flare as anger rises within me. “I don’t owe you anything. Please leave,” I demand, a small flame of courage igniting within me.
He laughs at me. “Oh, is that why you’re awhorefor those Adders? Because you like a man to have anedge? Push you around? Well, I’ll push you around, honey,” he replies, but before he steps closer to invade my space, I panic, thrusting my arms out toward his torso with so much force I cause him to fall down the stairs.
With each thud I hear, more blood drains from my body. Guilt overflows within me as I stand in disbelief:not only did I stand up for myself for the first time in my life, but I pushed someone down the stairs.
Chapter 15: Everett
Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
My pulse is pounding in my ears as I watch this shit bag call Brielle awhore. How fuckingdarehe? It takes all my willpower to not march over there and rip his spine from his body, but to my delighted surprise, my girl pushes this twat down the fucking stairs.
Good for her.
She is slowly opening up to her true self, accepting her real nature and beginning to stick up for herself. I wait to see her next move. She manically runs down the stairs to check a pulse point on the body, as I hear Piggy barking from the back yard. He can tell something is wrong as well.
She races up the stairs toward her room as I move to watch her from that vantage point.
She sits on her bed and places her hands on her face. Then, as she takes in a large exhale, she reaches for the phone and mutters, “I should call Bobby. Bobby will know what to do.”
What? No!
No, no, no. Goddammit, no! Now I must place my hands in my trouser pockets and claw my thighs from wanting to march over there and cease my urge to pound on the wall and tell her,Wrong person to call!I couldn’t imagine the betrayal on her face if she found out how I have been watching her.
I impatiently wait for her next move as time seems to slow. I can hear the clock ticking from her room as she reaches for the phone and dials a number. My leg begins to silently twitch as I fidget within my pocket.
Her sweet voice fills the room. “Hi. Um. Hiya, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Everett. Mr. Everett Afton please?”
Good girl.
She sits back on the bed, knees clutched to her chest as the phone stays pressed to her ear. “All right. Yes.Please let him know I called. Thank you,” she responds with a shaky voice to whomever is on the phone. I study her face, the worry etched across it. She looks like she wants to cry. My goodness, the urge to hold her folds my system.
To hold her tightly in my arms and let her know everything will be all right.
I wait several minutes to avoid suspicion before heading downstairs to her front door.
It takes a few moments for her to answer it after I calmly knock. Her beautiful eyes fill with relief as she opens the door. Feigning nonchalance, I ask, “How may I help you this evening, dove? Did you get stood up by Dr. Shit Bag?”
She huffs in frustration as she grabs my forearm and pulls me inside.
Well, isn’t this exciting?
Peering down, I act like it’s the first time I’m seeing his annoying body on the floor. I raise my eyebrows. “I see your date didn’t go well, rather fell through…” I state dryly, fighting every bit inside of me to manically laugh while kicking his stupid body.
Lord have mercy, she is turning me into a dubious idiot.
She places her hands atop her hips, her periwinkle skirt flowing with the movement. Her annoyance with my statement is completely adorable.
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” she sneers. Her eye color is made more prominent by her complementing ivory button-up shirt and wavy brown hair.
“I wasn’t laughing, just making an observation,” I state, still holding back a chuckle over this win of mine. “What do you want from me, dove?”
