Page 213 of Misrule
Yanking herself away from him, Roxy stumbled back. All the hurt and humiliation she’d felt flew away. Anger replaced it. She narrowed her eyes and balled her fists, punching his jaw before she stopped herself.
“You motherfucker,” she snarled, kicking his shin. “Why the fuck did you say all those things to me? How could you fix your month to insult me the way you did?” She shoved him back and he slammed into the door. She tried to knee his dick, but he blocked her, then sidestepped her next advance. “Your fucked-up words isn’t the way to solve a motherfucking thing.”
Grabbing a glass from the counter, she threw it at him.
He ducked. “This is the fucking way to solve shit?” he yelled, twisting backwards and crunching over the broken glass to escape her.
“If you would just leave me the fuck alone! Let me get on with my fucking life, I wouldn’t want to kick your cock into your throat.”
“Um, ouch?”
She growled and took a step toward him, but he ran outside.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Roxanne?” he said, only his fingers showing where he gripped the door, to hold it open. “This is too womanish for you. You don’t throw shit.”
“What the fuck do you mean too womanish? I haven’t suddenly grown a fucking dick, asshole.”
He raised his palm. “That came out wrong. I just meant—”
“I don’t throw shit,” she snapped. “I’ve never had occasion to throw shit at you. I want to bust your fucking head open and hug you; break your fucking face and love you.”
Her voice trembled as hurt rose inside of her again. A sob escaped her. And another, until she broke down completely.
Knox peeped inside.
“Go away. I’ve decided there’s nothing for us to discuss.”
Being the stubborn motherfucker that he was, he walked back into the house and closed the door, leaning against it. The pain on his face didn’t escape her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you just give me another chance. I’ll live at the club until the wedding. I’ll do anything. Please forgive me. Please, Roxanne.”
She felt her resistance crumbling. He sounded so humble and sincere. If she followed her heart, she’d let her guard down and let him back into her life. But, if she listened to her head—recalled the times she’d been let down in a relationship—she’d insist he leave and be done with it.
“You wouldn’t still have my ring on your finger if you didn’t feel something for me.”
Sniffling, she held up her hand and glared at the ring. She pulled it off. “If your great-great grandparents had a happy fucking marriage, the motherfuckers cursed this ring for everyone else who wore it. Ever since I got this from you, our lives have been in fucking chaos.”
Knox thrust his fingers through his hair. “Put it back on. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the jeweler together and find one especially for you.”
“I’m not signing a fucking prenup. Unless you sign one for me.”
He laughed. “What do you have—”
Her narrowed gaze stopped him.
“I don’t need your fucking money, Knox. Even if I didn’t have property in New Orleans and a little nest egg, I want for nothing because of these boys here.”
“Okay.” Knox sounded chastened. “I’m sorry.”
She licked her lips, studied the ring. Thought about Knox’s ugly words. He was fallible, a mere man. She didn’t hold grudges. It took too fucking much away from your soul, so she could let the argument go, accept his apology, and give him another chance.
Her heart started to pound. The weight she’d carried around for days lifted. For the first time in weeks, her world felt right again. Drawing in a deep breath, she slid the ring back onto her finger.
“One more chance, Knox. If you ever say anything like that to me again, we’re done.”
He ran to her and lifted her into his arms, swinging her around and laughing through his tears.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you.”
