by C. C. Wood
“Amy, what the fuck?” he grunted as a well-placed elbow caught him in the ribs.
I was so intent on hurting him as badly as he had just hurt me that he had to sweep my legs out from under me. We both went down, me on the bottom and Troy trying to use his arms and legs to subdue me. My hair flew into my face and I shook my head to throw it back.
“You asshole!” I spat into his face.
“What in the hell, Amy? What’s wrong with you?” he growled. He seemed genuinely confused.
“You’re not through fucking me yet?” I asked sarcastically. “Well maybe I’m done fucking you.” I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing in an effort to calm down. I don’t think I had ever been so enraged. Once I was calmer, I opened my eyes and stared at him. “You need to go, Troy.”
He tilted his head. “Amy, that’s not what I meant.”
I sighed and let all the tension go out of my muscles. “I know what you meant.”
He just looked at me for a second. “I want to stay,” he said quietly.
“I can’t tonight, Troy. Things are just moving too fast. I need a night to myself.”
Troy studied me for a moment and finally realized I wasn’t going to relent. He stood and helped me to my feet. Rolling around on that kitchen floor made my back achy and stiff. He locked the side door.
“I’ll go out the back,” he said, “in case the dickwad is watching.”
I nodded and followed him back to my bedroom.
Before he left, he looked back at me. “Be sure to keep all the doors and windows locked. Don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know or your ex.”
“I won’t,” I answered.
He went out the French doors in my bedroom, and I locked them behind him. Troy looked at me through the glass for a moment before he turned and walked off the deck. I watched him vault over the waist high fence that ran between our yards, his movements smooth and athletic.
Once he disappeared from view and I heard the door on his side of the deck shut, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I felt chilled to the bone, and a steamy shower sounded perfect.
I wasn’t until after I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the hot spray that I let the tears come. I cried as quietly as I could, hoping the sound of the water would mask the noise so Troy would never know that he had broken my heart.
I was so glad the next day was Saturday. After my crying jag in the shower the night before, I woke up feeling hung over. I felt as though I watched a dream die. While I was falling in love with him, Troy was just screwing. I knew that he enjoyed spending time with me, but his words made it obvious that he did not feel the same way I did. I thought he had been so worked up because he cared about me. Apparently I was wrong. I was also pretty sure that he wasn’t looking to settle down.
Saturday morning I was in my kitchen drinking coffee, looking at my calendar, when I realized that it was a week before Halloween. All Hallows Eve was one of my absolute favorite times of year, with Christmas a close second. I decided that a trip to the pumpkin patch and the grocery store for candy and decorations would keep me out of the house all day.
After the abrupt ending to our conversation last night, I had a feeling Troy would want to talk today. Probably to give me the speech I had been waiting for all week. The I like you but I’m not looking to settle down speech. I had been on the receiving end of that speech several times and really did not want to hear it again from a guy that was in the process of taking my heart.
So, I piled my hair in a bun on top of my head, dressed in a thick black turtleneck, ripped and faded skinny jeans, and my zebra print calf hair boots. Just because I felt like death warmed over didn’t mean I had to look it. I topped the sweater with a long silver necklace that had a huge silver filigree medallion hanging from it and a pair of diamond studs that my parents bought me when I graduated college.
Satisfied that I didn’t look heartbroken, I threw my big black purse over my shoulder and hit the road. After a stop by Starbucks, I drove to the farmers’ market where they had an impromptu pumpkin patch every fall. After choosing a couple of big pumpkins and several smaller ones, I grabbed a small crate of gourds. My front porch and my kitchen table were going to look awesome.
Next I hit Target, my second home, and bought some cute decorations, three huge bags of assorted candy, two bottles of sparkling wine, and ice cream. I figured all the sugar and alcohol would be perfect to soothe the ache in my chest.
I went by my favorite sushi place and ordered a couple of rolls to go. It was well after noon when I got home and hauled all my stuff inside. I probably shouldn’t have spent so much on Halloween decorations and candy since I needed to replace quite a few items in my bedroom and half my wardrobe, but I needed the pick-me-up.
I put the ice cream in the freezer, sparkling wine in the fridge, and poured the candy into my huge black bowl with spider webs painted on it. My phone dinged, and I looked at the screen. It was Troy.
Can we talk?
I typed back, I’m busy right now. Later?
I know you’re at home. Can I come over?
I scowled at my phone. What the hell? Was he stalking me too?
Not now.
I waited a minute, wondering if he was going to come over anyway, when my phone beeped again.
When?
I sighed. Tomorrow.
He took his time responding, which made me nervous. Fine. What time?
I typed furiously. After church. Ur place, 1 p.m.
See u then.
I tossed my phone on the counter and rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. I had given myself almost twenty-four hours to figure out how to tell Troy I couldn’t see him anymore. Then again, he might not care. I wasn’t sure what would be worse; his anger or his indifference.
The next morning I barely managed to drag myself out of bed. I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours the night before. After the confrontation with Grayson, then the confrontation with Troy, I was wired and depressed.
I tossed and turned for an hour after I went to bed at eleven. Finally, I gave up and went into the living room to watch television. I left the overhead lights off and sat in the dark, watching sappy movies. I kept the volume low because I didn’t want Troy to know that I was having a sleepless night.
About two in the morning, it hit me that I was going to break up with Troy. And, since I lived next door to him, I would have to listen to him bring women home again. I immediately freaked. I loved the duplex, and I didn’t want to move. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure that Troy wouldn’t be willing to move either. And I knew that I would likely burst through the bedroom wall and chop both Troy and his latest bimbo to bits if I had to hear them going at it. Or just buy some C4 on the black market and learn how to build a bomb on the internet. Then I could blow Troy, his skanky ho, and myself sky high.
To avoid the possibility of the death penalty, I decided to ask Davis if he had any other available properties. Maybe a house. Something I could have and not worry about sexy neighbors making me fall in love with them. That plan sounded good. At three, I made myself go to bed because I had to be at the church at eight-thirty the next morning. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard Troy’s TV.
I played piano horribly at church. Well, horribly for me. I could fake it pretty well if I needed to, but I was all over the place. The choir director gave me a funny look halfway through the special, and I managed to pull it together for the last few hymns of the service.
I apologized after services were over, explaining that I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t tell her I was heartsick because most people didn’t consider that a real illness. After I spoke with the choir director, I made a beeline for Davis, my landlord.
He smiled at me. “Amy, hi, how are you? Troy told me that he finally got to meet you.” Davis leaned toward me slightly. “He seems smitten.” His face grew serious almost immediately. “Oh no, I didn’t think, Amy. How are you holding up after all the craziness at the
house last week?”
I stood there and blinked at him. Troy told Davis that we were spending time together? He seemed smitten? My brain refused to process the information properly. His question about how I was doing after the break-in didn’t compute at first. After I stood there silently for a few moments, Davis began to look concerned.
“Are you okay, Amy?” he asked.
I broke through the trance and focused on Davis. “Yes, thanks. I’m fine. I think that whoever tore up my bedroom was just playing a nasty prank. Nothing else has happened since then, so I’m pretty sure that’s going to be the last of it. Probably just some kids looking for trouble. How are you?”
“Good, good.” He trailed off and looked at me expectantly.
I realized it was my turn to speak. God, what was wrong with me today? “Um, Davis, I was wondering if you had any available properties. I’ve been thinking of getting a bigger place, maybe getting a dog. I’d really like to move into a house.”
A smile spread across his face. “That sounds great, Amy. I guess it’s time to start settling down, huh? And I’m so glad that you aren’t going to a different property management company because of the break in.”
I forced my mouth to turn up, but I knew it must look fake. “I wouldn’t do that, Davis. You’ve been a fantastic landlord.” I cleared my throat. “And yeah, I guess it is time to start settling down.”
Davis stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, I think I have a couple places available in good neighborhoods. How about I look into it tomorrow and give you a call?”
I nodded. “That sounds great.” I started to walk away and realized I hadn’t spoken to him since the night of the break in about the repair work needed on my bedroom. “Oh, Davis, did you hear from the insurance company about repairing the damage to my bedroom?”
He nodded. “I should have the repairs scheduled next week. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I just wanted to check in with you about that,” I answered.
“Great. I’ll call you when I have something arranged. Just email me and let me know what days you can be home and what time of day.”
“Okay, Davis. Thanks.”
We parted ways, and I headed out to the parking lot to my car. I made it home twenty minutes later, and it was only twelve-thirty. My stomach was too knotted up to eat, so I settled for changing into a pair of clingy black yoga pants that made my ass look great and a snug T-shirt that had been a Christmas present from Nat. It was a Sons of Anarchy tee and it said, Mrs. Jax Teller. I loved that damn thing.
Every time I wore it, it made me want to ride my motorcycle. I kept it under a cover in the back corner of the carport. Unfortunately, I didn’t like to ride the bike when it got below seventy degrees. The cold was not my thing and it usually felt ten to twenty degrees cooler when riding a motorcycle. Maybe it would warm up a little for couple days before Thanksgiving, and I could go for a short ride.
My phone buzzed as I daydreamed about a nice, leisurely bike ride in the country. I checked the screen and saw it was a text from Troy.
Come over now.
I glanced at the clock and saw it was ten to one. I decided it was best if I got it over with. I texted him that I would be right there. I pulled a hoodie on over my tee, pulled on some comfy, fluffy socks, and slid on my gardening clogs. I stuck my phone in my pocket and made my way out front and around to his door.
Troy was standing on the porch , arms crossed over his chest, when I started up the steps.
“Hi,” I said quietly.
He didn’t speak, only moved to the side and let me enter the house first. That didn’t bode well. I took a shaky breath and hoped for the best. Well, I hoped that I wouldn’t lose my temper and take a swing at him again.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to a chair that sat at an angle from the sofa.
Though it chapped my ass that he was being so bossy, I did as he said because I wanted to get this over and done as quickly as possible. I settled into the leather chair and watched him warily as he moved to the sofa and sat. Troy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, his eyes steady and intent on me.
“Care to tell me exactly what happened last night?” he asked softly.
He seemed so calm. It kind of pissed me off, the calm that he faced me with. It was like our argument didn’t bother him the way it bothered me. Hell, it was as though he felt nothing about it at all. I managed to act in kind.
“I realized that you and I are approaching our relationship from two different places. I never saw this as a fling and, even though it’s early, I am looking for a man who wants to settle down, get married, and have kids. I don’t have to do it now. Or even in a year. But I want to know that the guy I’m with has those goals in mind too. If things progress and don’t work out, that’s one thing, but I’m getting too old to have wild flings for a month or two. I want more than that. I think it’s best if I cut my losses and move on.”
There, I said it. I also tried to word things in a way so that I didn’t sound as though I had already been naming our three children. Even though I totally had.
“Cut your losses?” Troy asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
I didn’t catch it when I first walked in, but Troy was pissed before I even began speaking. Now that I was done, he was furious. As though I suddenly became hyper-focused, I saw everything clearly. His hands were clenched, and the muscle in his jaw was working. The skin over his face seemed to tighten and his eyes burned like two black coals.
The overall effect was very scary. I wondered inanely if suspects he questioned ever peed their pants. Troy distracted me from my musings by surging to his feet. Oh crap. Not good. Danger, danger. I seriously considered making a run for it, but Troy was in good shape. He would catch me before I made it two steps.
“Have we had a conversation that I don’t remember?” he asked, pacing in front of the sofa.
Now I was scared and confused. “What?”
Troy stopped walking and locked his piercing black eyes on me. “I don’t ever remember discussing any of the stuff you just laid out for me. In fact, that’s the first time you’ve said a word about any of that stuff.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true,” I argued.
“Oh really. Enlighten me,” he said sarcastically.
I scowled at him. “You don’t recall the conversation we had about friends with benefits and how I wanted more than that from the next man I dated?”
“Yes, I remember that. Do you remember what I said?”
“You said I was different,” I replied. “But what you said last night contradicts that.”
“What the fuck did I say last night that was so bad?!” he roared.
It was my turn to surge to my feet, my temper getting the best of me. “You talked about me as though all I’m good for is fucking. Remember? I’m not done fucking you yet.” I repeated, mimicking his deeper voice.
“And I told you last night that’s not what I meant but before I could explain, you threw my ass out!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck me, but you drive me absolutely fucking crazy!” Troy took two steps toward me, but I backed away. “Are you ready to let me explain or do you want to keep arguing in circles?”
Since I wondered how the hell he would try to explain that, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.
When he realized I was going to let him speak, he seemed to calm.
“When I said that, I was angry because I felt you were taking unnecessary risks, and I was trying to make a point. The point is, you are in danger. You may not believe me, but you don’t have to. I know in my gut that tearing up your bedroom isn’t the end of it, but there’s no evidence, no witnesses. All we can do is watch and wait.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I made you feel as though you weren’t important to me. This is more than a fling for me, Amy. I’m not sure exactly what it is yet, but I do know that I’m not ready for it to end.”
I stared at him, my mind blown. I was also very disa
ppointed in myself. Even though I tried not to be a judgmental bitch, I’d managed to succeed amazingly well. I had been so dead set on protecting my heart that I’d almost ruined something great.
“Amy?” Troy prompted. “If someone apologizes, it’s polite to tell them if the apology was accepted or not.”
“Apology most definitely accepted,” I said. “And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. My only excuse is that my emotions were stirred up and I was reacting without thinking.”
Troy grinned slightly. “When you get pissed, you really blow your stack, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I answered, slightly embarrassed. I did have a very bad temper. It was legendary in my family.
“Are we good?” he asked.
“I don’t know, are we?”
He gave me a wide smile. “We’re good. Though, the next time I piss you off, I want to try angry sex. I bet it would be hot.”
I grabbed a throw pillow off his chair and threw it at his head, relieved that we had settled things, and I didn’t have to break up with Troy. I was also the teeniest bit curious about how angry sex with Troy would be.
Three days later, the day before Halloween, I was bummed. Not because things weren’t going well with Troy. They were. In fact I didn’t think I’d ever been happier.
He had been working late all week and said he probably wouldn’t be home until after midnight. His division had something big going on. He couldn’t tell me much about it, which made me break out into a cold sweat because that probably meant that he was in danger.
So, it was Wednesday night, and I was on my own. I decided to order pizza and spend the evening carving pumpkins. After work, I came home and changed into my ‘home uniform’ of yoga pants, a T-shirt, and fluffy zebra print slippers. It was too early to order dinner, so I did some laundry and cleaned up a little.
I was in the middle of hanging up clothes when my cell phone rang. I picked it up and saw that it was Grayson. Rolling my eyes, I declined the call and went back to what I was doing. Five minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Grayson again. Apparently he was in the mood to be persistent. Still, I declined the call. I had nothing to say to the douchebag. He called me the c-word and accused me of sleeping around. Not worth my time.