Page 27 of The Red Zone
“That’s not true,” I replied curtly. “You can continue making me the villain in your story all you want, but you’re done being the villain in mine.”
Mae sat there for a moment, eyeing me carefully before giving me a clipped nod. I watched as she rose from her seat, smoothing down her dress with her palms before giving me a small weak smile and turning away from me.
It was only after she disappeared down the steps that I sat in the seat she’d just gotten up from and hung my head into my hands.
Those answers I thought I needed? I wished I’d never gotten them.
NINE
MAE
Toss.Turn.
Toss. Turn.
With a groan, I rolled from my left side onto my back.
For years, I had trouble falling asleep. Instead of counting sheep—or whatever other people did to get to sleep—I would lay in bed late at night, tucked under the warmth of the covers while my thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper into a never-ending abyss. Eventually, I’d wear myself out from overthinking, allowing exhaustion to take over and carry me through the night.
Even with the business struggling the past few months, it had been weeks since I’d had an episode like that. Lately, my sleep schedule has been like clockwork. Ten o’clock wind down, eleven o’clock get ready for bed, and without fail, I would be sound asleep by midnight with my limbs spread out like a starfish across the bed.
Tonight, however, there was no chance for sleep in sight.
It had been hours since we’d all gotten home from my birthday party. Hours since I’d crawled into bed. Hours spent reminiscing on my interactions with October from earlier in the day. I’d spoken to him more in the last fifteen hours than I had since he dropped back into my life a couple months ago, and the day's events left my brain in an endless tailspin as I tried to process our conversations.
You’re not going to walk around in unnecessary pain for the next who-knows-how-many-hours if you don’t need to.
Mae… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I had known, I never would have—
You can continue making me the villain in your story all you want, but you’re done being the villain in mine.
My mind was reeling and I couldn’t make sense of anything as I replayed it all on a continuous loop. Did we hate each other? How were we supposed to act after I was a complete fool who trauma dumped all over him? Granted, he begged me to, but still. Most of all, I wondered whether there was some truth behind my joke when I said that Scarlett might be right about that hate fuck?
Nope. I couldn’t do this any longer.
“I need to get out of here,” I grumbled, massaging my temples. The cool air kissed my skin as I pushed off the covers and slipped out of bed. I fumbled through the darkness, smashing my big toe against the footrest in the process, before finally making it to the tall dresser on the opposite side of the room.
I turned the switch to the miniature lamp that sat on top and the soft yellow-gold light illuminated the small corner of the room. Opening the top drawer, I pulled out a periwinkle blue two-piece bikini and set the top next to the lamp while I stripped out of my oversized sleep shirt.
Wasn’t one of my favorite swimsuits, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to see it, anyway.
One foot went in the leg hole of the bottoms, followed by the other, then I snagged the top off the dresser and tied it securely as I ambled down the steps—blatantly ignoring my throbbing toe pain—and worked my way through the living room toward the back door.
I peered over at the clock on the stove—2:28 a.m.—before quietly cracking the back door open and slipping outside. Quietly shutting the door behind me, I twisted around toward the pool, but the large figure immersed in the middle of the water with its back pressed against the opposite edge made me jump back, covering my mouth with my palm.
“Jesus!” I gasped. “What are you doing out here?”
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”
I paused for a second to calm myself before echoing him in an identical tone. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Are you just going to stand there and look pretty?”
“Awww, you think I’m pretty,” I joked, placing both hands over my heart like I couldn’t bear the flattery.
“Never said you weren’t.”
It was a subtle jab to our earlier conversation back at the party. A part of me despised myself for being so vulnerable with him. Knowing that if he wanted to, he could use it against me at any time.
