Page 34 of All Superheroes Need PR
“What?” he says, and I see on his face a genuine confusion that absolutely terrifies me. Because he has no idea why I might be upset by what he’s said. Because he’snota hero. He has no concept of right and wrong.
“Did you run a background check on me?” I say in a frustratingly high tone when I’d meant to sound strong.
“No.” He sits up and massages the uneven beard on his chin. “I stole your file from Singkham’s office. Not a big deal. Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
Because I am seeing ghosts. I can’t meet his gaze, feel my whole body start to retreat and cringe away.
“Nessa, what—”
“You had no right to do that.”
He balks. “I had every right. I needed to know who I was gonna be living with and working with the most ...”
“You had absolutely no right to look at that. Those files—my childhood—” What childhood? “That time in my life is private.”
“You saw my damn files. Stop freaking the fuck out.”
“No, I didn’t. The COE doesn’t share your personal files with us. Only the relevant pieces of information that pertain to the job. This is a job.”
“You’re my girlfriend.”
“Yourfakegirlfriend.”
Smoke is coming out of his nose now in swooping curls, every bit dragonesque. “You’re a hypocrite.”
“What?” I say, voice barely above a gasp.
“A control freak. Lack of control in your early childhood has led you to want to control the world around you. That’s what your therapist wrote, right?”
I wince like I got slapped. He read my therapist’s notes? Jesus ... “I’d like you to leave, please.” My voice is cold. The pain meds and the shock are gone, giving ground for another monster. I’ve never felt rage like this before. I want tohurtsomething.
Roland’s expression flattens. His eyes flicker orange momentarily. “No. I live here now.”
I scoff, my eyes getting hot. “And you’re going to sit here and lecture me about control? After you barge into my house and into my life? Make me sign some insane contract? Call me your wife?”
His face turns deep red, a red that makes my heart hammer and hurt. But I’m feeling destructive, bent out of shape, and it’s because of that that I blurt out a question I’d been scared to ask since I saw him touch down in the skate park earlier. “How did you even know where I was today?”
He doesn’t answer. He just gives me a hard look, one I can’t help but wither beneath. His jaw is set, and his eyes are orange and angry. He has a temper. His knee is bouncing, and he’s looking like he’s going to lunge at me.
“Did you follow me?” I say, my voice shaky but no less loud. I don’t know what’s come over me, but for maybe the first time in my life, I don’t feel like backing down.
He jerks, leaning in toward me, knees pressed to the edge of the couch. “I didn’t see anything in that file that made me think any less of you, Nessa.”
“That’s not the point,” I say, running my hands back through my hair, roughly rumpling it. “The point is that you had no right to see it at all. That part of me is over. I don’t go back there ever. That’s why I don’t even tell people I do trust about it. Because they might bring it up in casual conversation and take me places I don’t want to go. Not all of us are so lucky that we get to have our earliest memories scrubbed.”
“How the hell do you get close to anybody if you never open up?” He’s leaning in even closer.
And now I’m leaning in even closer. “Maybe I don’t.”
My face heats. Embarrassment is a little like a shield you don’t want to hold on to. It helps mask the terrors that lurk beneath. Helps make it easier to concentrate on something outward like perception, rather than go to the dark places within where light doesn’t reach.
“Maybe I don’t want to, Mr. Casteel. If what you found in my file is why you’re suddenly being nice to me or following me around or doing whatever it is that you’re doing, then stop. I don’t need a boyfriend, not even a fake one, and definitely not a pity one. I have family. I have friends. This may be a foreign concept to you, but I actually have people who look out for me.”
My gaze flicks to his, and the rumbling of his chest abruptly cuts. I know I’ve gone too far. Fuck. “I ...” I start.
“You’re being a bitch.”
“You’re being an asshole.” I glance at his mouth. It’s so close to mine, I could close the distance between us with a breath.
