Page 106 of Mourner for Hire
“She won’t even know you broke it.”
She would, though. She absolutely would.
“I can take care of the rest of the shit on your list and you can pretend you found whatever it is you’re supposed to find. We can just walk away from each other.”
I shake my head slowly. I can’t tell him that his mother haunts me, or he will really think I’m crazy.
“Dominic, just go.”
“Why won’t you be honest?” he shouts, stepping close to me.
“I am!” I shout back, taking a step myself.
Both our chests heave, just six inches from each other.
“I can’t have you here,” he says, voice low. “I need you to get out of this town, Vada. I don’t know how to deal with my shit with you here.”
“Oh, running me out with your pitchforks and holy water, are you?”
“I guess, if that’s what it takes.”
I let out a breath of a laugh. “You arrogant son of a?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Vada,” he taunts, and I swallow.
I hesitate, but only for a moment, running my tongue over my teeth before the next words fall out of my mouth. “You know what, Dominic? I think you’re just really sad.”
“Oh, don’t fucking patronize me?—”
“And on top of that, I think you’re scared of me. You’re scared because your mom, who knew me for a moment, trusted me more than she trusted you.”
The blow is low… Almosttoolow.
He grits his teeth and then collects himself, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Oh, poor Vada. You think you can hurt me by talking about my mom? Here’s something you don’t know. My mom was a genius, but she was a master manipulator, and she is pulling all your strings from beyond the grave. You’re just lonely, pathetic, and abandoned enough to not know the difference.”
I step closer. “Oh, wow, say it with your whole chest, Dominic.”
He matches my step. “I just did.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck off.”
He laughs. “You fuck off, Vada. When you leave, you will be screaming your goodbye, knowing nothing in your life loves you like you want this town to.”
Screw playing nice.
“Fuck you!” I shout, stepping close to his face. I don’t care if I have to look up to stare him down. I don’t care about being polite or fighting with intellectual tact. The rage this man causes finally makes me explode. “I’m so sick of your shit. The way you demonize me and talk down to me and act like I’m the scum of the earth when not that long ago,youkissedme!”
He tosses back his head and lets out a low chuckle. “Still on your mind?”
I glare at him, moving even closer. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
We’re practically chest to chest, breath to breath. His gaze drops to the shirt I’m wearing.
“You’re still wearing my shirt.”
I don’t even look down. I know what I’m wearing. “And it looks like you found another one.”
“And you probably wish I didn’t.”
