Page 51 of Pretty Broken Wings
“Let me see.” Axel gets up slowly, putting his hands out in a placating manner.
“Get away from me.” I skitter back along the bedside.
“If you’re hurt, I’m going to make it right.”
“I’m not! I lied.”
Axel stops prowling closer.
“I lied, it’s totally fine.”
He frowns, then shakes his head and turns back around. I relax slightly.
“Christ woman…” He lets out a breath. “You’re going to let me look at it in the morning.”
Fine. That’s fine. As long as he gets the fuck away from me.
Axel hesitates for a second longer, then returns to his spot at the door. After a while, my legs shake from standing, and I go back to my spot on the floor, once again locked in a stalemate.
Fighting didn’t work. There’s a rush of emotions—disappointment, anger, fear. And then, numbness starts to creep in.
So that kind of fighting didn’t work. There are other kinds of fighting.
I have to be smart about this. Iwillbe smart about this. Because I’m no longer gonna let a man control me, even if it costs me everything.
If I can’t have me, no one can.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Raven falls asleep somewhere around six in the morning. She was so fucking jumpy and terrified.
Christ, I wasn’t trying to hurt her. This was literally supposed to just…snap her out of her nonsensical hatred of me. And save her from the cold.
She looks so stressed, even when she sleeps. Her head is barely slumped forward, and her hands are wrapped around her knees.
It’s making me feel uncomfortable, so I go downstairs to make myself some coffee.
This is for her own good. I tell myself that over and over as I stare at my coffee pot, unblinking. I can make her feel good.
A noise outside makes me jump. It’s footsteps.
Oh fuck. Gage is coming over for the glasses. I open the door before he can knock and wake Raven. The thought sends conflicting emotions through me, but the biggest one is that I wouldn’t mind Gage knowing that she’s inmyhome.
“Fuck, it’s cold.” Gage brushes past me to come inside, and I shut the door softly after him. He has a pristine black suit on, and his hair is styled, but he has an old pair of square-rimmed glasses on. He scowls at me.
I raise an eyebrow. “You look cute.”
“Just give me the glasses.”
“Okay, grumpy.” I roll my eyes, taking them off. “Give me the green ones.”
“They aren’t green, they’re black.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” I take his old pair, looking through them. “Goddamn! How do you even see in these?” I have to blink a few times to refocus, and still, the fridge is blurry around the edges.
“I don’t.” Gage turns on his heel.
“Okay, grumpy.” I follow after him into the cold. “You’re welcome! And don’t lose.”
