Page 42 of Hostile Cravings
“Use you, baby? What are?—”
“Don’t call me that!” I snapped, grabbing my bag. “I hate you, Tyson. I’ve always hated you and I will curse your name on my deathbed. Find me a way home, now.”
“Angela, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but—” The confused and hurt look on his face confused me, and I stumbled, the pain in my ankle overtaking the pain in my heart.
He reached out to steady me.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, stepping away and hearing my voice crack. “Never touch me again. We hate each other, that’s it, that’s all this has ever been. Your game is over.”
“What game?” I could see the confusion turning to anger, his temper rising.
“Me. I was your game all this time. And I fell for it, like an idiot. Damn you, Tyson. You only had to put up with me, pretend we were married. You didn’t have to touch me. What was that for? Why bother? So you can go back and tell Mason what an annoying bitch I was to screw?”
The darkness returned to his eyes, his expression turning hard. “You are an annoying bitch, Angie. You’ve always been.”
“Yeah, so I heard. Well, you don’t have to pretend and put up with me anymore. I don’t want to be an inconvenience to you and your dick.”
His eyes widened. “Shit, you were listening in on my conversation with Mason. What did you hear?”
That unpleasant sensation in my chest returned. “Enough.” I yanked the rings from my finger and threw them at him. He caught them and looked down at them. “I don’t need you, Tyson. I never did.”
He clenched his hand around the rings, the glimmer of hurt reflected in his eyes morphing to anger. “Good, because I’m tired of you, Angie. Get out. I’ll have a plane ready, and you can returnto Joey Tirenti.” He let the rings fall, taking his off and throwing it to the floor. “Let him put up with your spoiled ass. I’m sure he’ll fuck you the way you want it. Just make sure you take your makeup with you. You’ll need it to cover the bruises…if you’re still alive when he’s done with you.”
“Prick,” I spat.
“Yeah, that’s what I am, Angie. A prick. And you’re a bitch who deserves everything you have coming to you.”
I smacked him, the pain so intense I couldn’t hold back. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing it painfully, and slammed me into the door, which shook on its hinges.
“You touch me again and I’ll send your body back in pieces to your father,” he snarled. “It’ll be better than what he’ll get when Tirenti’s done with you.”
With a shove, he walked away, turning his back on me and running his hand through his hair. I grabbed my bag and left, the tears pushing against my hold on them.
“Get her dumb ass on a plane. I think the governor is leaving this morning. Maybe she can give his spoiled son a blow job on the way, maybe ride the governor while she’s at it,” Tyson ordered.
I stepped onto the elevator, staring ahead and not looking at his henchman or mine. All I could do was let the hatred for Tyson fester in my chest to coat the agony that was setting in. There was nothing more to do. I was shattered, uncertain for the first time in my life. I’d fallen in love with him, thinking he loved me, too. But it hadn’t been love, it had all been fake, and that realization crippled me.
I tried building my defenses back as Tyson’s man talked to the governor, who was waiting for his luggage to be loaded into a car. I’d timed my leave just right, it seemed. He made his way back over.
“They’ll take you to Armina before they return home.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, trying to firm the shake in my voice.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, as I walked away.
“Sure.”
“What did you hear before you came back to the room? What did the boss say?”
I considered whether it was worth telling him, whether it mattered now. “Just the usual. What a spoiled brat I am and how it was killing him to be stuck with me, pretending to like me. Nothing different from the usual.”
He looked like he wanted to reply, but I turned from him, not wanting to hear any excuses. Tyson didn’t deserve them.
The flight back was quiet.I stayed in the back of the plane, ignoring the family, their stares, the questions in their eyes. A car was waiting for me when I returned and I knew Tyson had let my father know the sham was over, that I’d walked away. And I knew what it meant—that I’d have to deal with Joey and his self-imposed claim over me. The thought was terrifying, especially after learning how he treated his women. My father would have no choice, though. To keep his hold on the territory, I would be the chess piece he sacrificed. Without Tyson’s claim, Mason had no say in this part of the relationship between my father and Tirenti.
“Well, well. If it isn’t my future wife,” Joey said as I exited the car.
“What are you doing here, Joey? And why are your creepily stalking outside my home?”
