by Jenn Hype
“Better think twice before you get in my face, buddy. You’re gonna regret it.”
A crowd had started to gather, watching the spectacle we were causing, and I felt Joe step up next to me but I didn’t take my eyes off of the dickhead that was nose to nose with me now. I bumped his chest with mine and growled.
“One last chance, buddy. Walk away,” I warned, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.
“Or what?” He challenged, making the mistake of raising his hands and trying to shove me back.
I didn’t bother answering, instead I just punched him right in his face. He stumbled backwards a few steps, then like the idiot he is, he came at me again. I stepped to the side as he swung at me, causing him to miss me entirely and stumble forward. He turned around to come at me again, but before he could make a move I gave him another punch to his face. He was scrambling all over the floor, but stood in the same place, unmoving.
I could feel hundreds of sets of eyes on me, but I never took mine off of him. I just watched, predicting his next move and dodging him each time he took a swing, then rewarded him with another punch to the face. This happened several times before Joe finally stepped in and restrained the guy. He was panting and wobbly and spitting blood as he cussed at me.
I watched as Joe pulled him to the door and said something in his ear. Most likely telling him he was lucky I just punched him instead of arresting him for assaulting a police officer, even though I technically started it.
Joe came back and yanked on my arm so hard I almost took a swing at him, but I snapped out of it in time, luckily. I would have felt really guilty if Joe had to take a hit to the face twice in one day from me. I was out of control, and I knew I needed to get it together. I looked over at Stacy who was standing a few feet away from me, looking terrified, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. I wanted to go to her and try to explain, but I had no idea what I would say, so I just shook my head and walked to the back of the bar where I had seen an entrance to some kind of outdoor patio people had gathered to.
I heard the band pick back up as I walked over to the railing lining the once busy patio that was now empty. Most likely everyone had gone back inside to witness the fight, and I was so fucking grateful to have a moment alone. I gripped the edges and took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.
What the fuck was the wrong with me? Why would I react like that?
Because I’m my father’s son, that’s why.
No. No, I couldn’t think like that. I wasn’t him. I didn’t just go around beating people senseless. I gave that guy an opportunity to walk away and he chose to keep lunging at me, so he had some fault in what happened, too.
Dammit! These were just excuses. There was no way to justify my behavior, no matter the reasons behind it. Violence could always be avoided and I knew better than anyone that there were better ways to handle issues than by raising your fist. Even flashing my badge to get him to back off would have been a smarted decision, yet I’d gone all caveman and lashed out just because some random guy was touching a woman who didn’t even belong to me.
I was unraveling. I was starting to feel desperate. I couldn’t lose control, I just couldn’t. I had to figure out what the hell was going on with me and fix it. Fast. Before everything fell apart.
“Dammit!” I yelled as I slammed my hands down on the railing. I felt a hand gently touch my shoulder and I inhaled sharply. It was Stacy. I knew without turning around that it was her. I could smell her, sense her. The warmth from her hand shot now familiar sensations straight through my body, gathering in my chest. “What do you want Stacy?”
“What was that back there, Chad? Why did you do that? He wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was the one who asked him to dance. Did you think he was forcing me or something?” She was speaking in a low, soothing tone and I could hear the concern in her voice, maybe even mixed with a little bit of guilt. Did she feel guilty for flirting with that guy to make me jealous, or did she feel guilty for using him not knowing I would go bat shit crazy and beat his ass?
I shook my head but didn’t answer her. How could I? I wasn’t sure why I had done that myself, so how could I explain my actions? It was inexcusable, and knowing she was there to witness me lose it like that filled me with shame.
“Chad,” she whispered, moving to my side and gently sliding her hand from my shoulder to my cheek, tugging my face to the side so she could look at me. My body was shaking, and I told myself it was from the adrenaline, and not because her touch felt so right. I gripped the railing even harder to try and hide it, and had to force myself not to look away from her eyes. Eyes that reflected back at me all the same conflicting emotions that were threatening to crack me in two. “Chad,” she whispered again before she leaned up on her toes to press her lips to mine.
Her lips were soft and gentle at first, tender and forgiving, like she was trying to express that she wasn’t mad about the scene that had just taken place. As if it didn’t bother her that I’d just beaten a man for seemingly no reason. I wanted to pull away and ask what was wrong with her. Ask her why she wouldn’t be furious with me, or terrified of me, for doing something so irrational and violent. But I couldn’t.
A calm washed over me, and I pulled my hands away from the railing and shoved them into her hair, cupping her face in my palms as I relaxed into the kiss. Stacy responded by placing her hands over mine then ran them over my shoulders, down my back and then around my waist. I tugged her face even harder against mine and turned us so her back was up against the railing. The kiss deepened as need and desire took over, our touches becoming frantic and desperate.
I finally forced myself to break the kiss, both of us gasping for air, our foreheads pressed together.
“What are you doing to me, Stacy?” It was a rhetorical question. I didn’t really expect her to answer, obviously. “You need to stay away from me,” I said, pushing myself away from her. I felt the loss of our bodies touching all the way into my soul, and it took all my willpower to not reach out for her again.
“Wait…what?” Sadness and confusion marred her face and it broke me just a little, but not enough to stop me from doing what needed to be done. There was no way to explain it to her without going into the details of my past, and that was just something I didn’t talk about.
I wasn’t entirely sure I was doing the right thing, but what I did know is that Stacy deserved better than what I was ever going to be able to give her. Years of working towards being the man I was supposed to be, and in the brief amount of time I’d known Stacy, it all had gone to shit. I couldn’t stand who I was becoming, but I was certain that if I continued down this path that it would end up destroying us both.
“I’m not good for you. I can’t control myself around you. It’s dangerous. I’m dangerous. It’s just not a good idea. Please, Stacy, I’m not asking - I’m telling. Nothing between you and I is ever going to happen.”
I started to walk away, but Stacy grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Chad, wait. I don’t understand. I know I may have not made a very good first impression, and I know we seem to butt heads a lot, but I thought we were getting along back there. I thought we were having fun. So why is it that any time I’m near you, you push me away? Am I really so horrible that you don’t want to get to know me at all?” The hurt in her voice betrayed the playful tone she was forcing, and I watched her face struggle to maintain stoic, even as her lower lip quivered.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her all the reasons I did want to get to know her. I wanted to tell her that she made me laugh, when it was damn near impossible for anyone to make me do that these days. I wanted to tell her that it terrified me how little control over myself I had around her, and how I wished I could just give in and just give her all of me. I wanted her to know that she was the sexiest, most enchanting woman I’d ever met, and that no other woman I’d ever met had ever been able to penetrate my tough exterior like she had.
But all that would do is make it harder for h
er when I finally did walk away, because commitment and love just weren’t things I was capable of. For a very brief period of time back when we were joking around, I thought maybe things could be different. That I could be different. But then I went and lost it on that guy she was dancing with, and just remembering how it felt seeing his hands on her made me want to punch something again. So, I knew what I was about to do was right. It would hurt like a mother fucker, but I didn’t have a choice.
I yanked my arm out of her grip and turned to glare at her. She inhaled sharply and took a step back. I wasn’t intending to scare her, but I needed to make a clean cut - completely sever the tie that was tethering us together. She might not know it, but whatever was going on between us was destructive, and it would destroy us both. It didn’t take a genius to see how much her presence fucked with my mind, so if that meant I had to be the bad guy to get her to stay away then that’s what I would do.
“Don’t touch me, Stacy. I’m not a good guy. The only reason I was even nice to you tonight was because Joe begged me to try, but I can’t do it anymore. It’s not worth it. I have no interest in spending any amount of time with you.”
“Chad don’t, I know you feel it…”
“No!” I yelled, interrupting what I knew she was going to say. I wished there was a way to do this without completely lying, but I had to make sure I completely burned this bridge. I wouldn’t have the willpower to stay away from her, so I needed her to hate me. It was cowardly and weak, but I was desperate. “The only thing I feel towards you is physical attraction, but I can get those needs satisfied anywhere and by much more attractive women. Why would I settle for you? The only reason anything has happened between us at all was because you were convenient. Right place, right time. You’re too much work, though, so now I’m telling you to stay away. I don’t want you, so don’t embarrass yourself further by trying to convince me otherwise.”
It looked like she was about to cry and if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to keep up this facade of not wanting her. So I turned and walked away, with each step that took me away from her leaving a piece of my soul behind with it.
Stacy deserved someone stronger, someone who could appreciate her and cherish her without his demons getting in the way. I’d never hated myself more than I did in that moment, knowing that the man she deserved would never be me, and hating how much I wished I could be that man for her.
I had to talk myself out of turning around and going to her to take it all back, but the more distance I put between us, the more I knew I was doing the right thing. I barely knew her, so letting the attraction between us take me down a dark road I may never recover from wasn’t worth it. When things went to shit, she would recover just fine. No doubt she would be able to find someone who would treat her right and she would get her happily ever after, while I would be left trying to regain control over myself.
The more I tried to tell myself I was right, the more I felt things spiraling out of control. All I knew was that it wasn’t normal how badly I yearned to possess her, to be able to call her mine. I craved her like an addict craved their next fix, and it was dangerous. She was dangerous. So it didn’t matter that every time I looked into the depths of her eyes it felt like my heart tethered to hers just a little tighter. And it didn’t matter that every time her soft skin brushed against mine it felt like she was filling in all the cracks where my soul had broken over the years.
No, all that mattered was that every reaction I had to her was entirely too intense, and too irrational. Every time I breathed her in I felt myself unravel just a little bit more, and if I wasn’t careful then all it would take is just one quick tug, and the tattered threads that barely contained my inner demons would rip to shreds. And then there would be no turning back.
Chapter 11
Stacy
I was not going to cry. I would not give that asshole the satisfaction of seeing just how much is words really hurt. He was lying, I knew he was. I wasn’t imagining this pull between us, it was there and he was just fighting it. I didn’t know why he was fighting it, but I didn’t deserve to be treated that way no matter his reasons. I was fucking done.
Joe emerged a few minutes after Chad had stormed off and he tried to put his arms on my shoulders but I shrugged him off.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
“What the hell, Stacy? What’s the matter with you? Chad just stormed out of the bar and wouldn’t talk to me, and now you’re freaking out about me touching you? Tell me what’s going on,” Joe pleaded as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Your partner is an asshole.”
“No shit, but that’s nothing new. What happened out here, Stacy?”
“Why did he attack that guy, Joe?” I asked, deflecting his question.
“I don’t know, Stacy. Chad has…” he trailed off like he was trying to figure out the right words to say. “Chad struggles with his temper. He bottles everything up and that’s part of what makes him kind of an asshole sometimes, but I’ve never seen him snap like that. Not in the two years I’ve known him. He’s never just completely lost it. One minute you guys seem to be getting along great, the next minute you’re yelling at me about some girl he’s with and then I turn around to see him punching some guy. Did you guys get in an argument? Did that guy say something to Chad?”
I didn’t answer right away. I was thinking back to everything that happened leading up to him attacking that guy. When I got back from the bathroom he was practically fucking some chick up against the wall, so I went to yell at Joe like it was his fault that I was acting like a jealous girlfriend. And then yeah, I acted like a selfish bitch and started grinding up on a stranger to make Chad jealous, but I didn’t think he would care enough to haul off and pound someone’s face in? Why would it matter so much to him when it took all of two seconds of me being gone for him to find some random whore to hit on?
“I don’t know, Joe, nothing happened. I thought we were getting along, like, for real getting along, and when I came back from the bathroom he was… I shouldn’t have done it, but I was trying to make him jealous. It’s stupid and immature, I know, but I never thought he’d attack someone just because they were dancing with me. It happened so fast. I followed him out to the patio and asked him if he thought that guy was forcing himself on me or something, but he didn’t say anything. I just…I don’t understand.”
“I think it’s time we call off this bet, Stacy. I thought it was a good idea at first. I only encouraged it because I thought maybe you could help Chad to come out of his shell. Every time you guys are near each other he would get all riled up, and I stupidly thought that meant that you could get to him in a way other people never could. But if this is the result of that, then I think it’s time we just let it go. It’s obviously not good for either of you.”
“Fuck you, Joe! It’s not my fault he went psycho on that guy! And this isn’t about the stupid bet. I thought that we...back there when he was...dammit, I don’t know! I thought things had changed, but the shit he said to me before he left...you don’t have to worry about getting me to stay away from him, because I don’t ever want to see him again.” I tried to walk away, but Joe grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him.
“What do you mean? What did he say?” His face was serious, and it was like a knife to the gut, because it was apparent that his concern was more for Chad than me, though I didn’t know why. No one was explaining anything to me and I was getting really fucking sick of being kept out of the loop.
“It doesn’t fucking matter. He made it very clear what he thought of me, and not a damn word of it is worth repeating. Let him think whatever he wants, because I’m done. Don’t worry - bet off.”
I tried to yank out of his grip, but he stopped me again. It was a good thing there weren’t any weapons close by, because I probably would have stabbed him if it meant him letting me go.
“Just stay the fuck away from me, Joe. I’m sorry but I need some time. He’s your partner and I don
’t want to keep putting you in the middle. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to talk again. Tell Carrie I left and give her a ride home.”
I yanked again, and that time he let me go. I felt like shit for bailing on Carrie and pushing Joe away, but what I said was true. He was right in the middle of all this bullshit and I could see it was tearing him up. I just needed a break from all the bullshit, even though it was a little late at that point. No matter how much distance I put between between us, it was too late to keep myself from becoming just one more casualty in the cruelness of Chad’s assholery.
I didn’t see Chad or Joe for the next few weeks. Joe had kept his distance like I’d requested, and while I was thankful, I really fucking missed him. Adalyn was never home and I had to keep myself from tracking her down so I had someone to talk to about everything that was happening. It wasn’t fair for me to distract her when she’d finally found something she was really passionate about.
Having so much time alone in my thoughts gave me the freaking awesome ability to constantly overthink everything that had happened over the last month. It was self inflicted torture at it’s best. Carrie had tried several times to reach out to me, and when I didn’t respond to her texts or calls, she started showing up. She gave up on me too, though, once she realized I wasn’t talking.
I didn’t embarrass easily, but I did have pride, and he’d managed to stomp all over it. I should probably have been hurt, felt rejected or shameful over how much I was letting him get to me, but I couldn’t. That just wasn’t me. I didn’t get hurt. Angry? Yes. Vengeful? You bet. Psychotic? At times. Hurt? Never. I was pretty sure I didn’t even have tear ducts. There had been a few times in my life where I thought I might cry, but nothing came out. I just wasn’t a crier.
I wasn’t cruel, I didn’t enjoy hurting people. But I did know who I was and what I wanted and I didn’t apologize for it. I had learned long ago that you can’t please everyone. No, nothing traumatic happened to me. Everyone expected me to have some tortured past that made me into the person I was. Honestly, it was just me. If something happened in my life to influence my personality, then I was either too young to remember or blocked it out entirely.