back the cascade of copper. “Why am I defending this guy? He could be a complete psycho. He could be a goddamn monster. All of this shit could be true. Then again, when’s the last time I read something that I found via Facebook post had any truth to it?”
She sighed and let her phone holding hand fall flatly to her side. It thumped against her thigh, and Laney closed her eyes tightly shut. A tear that she couldn’t quite figure out, but that she felt from the very depths of her soul, rolled down her cheek hot and fast. Then another followed, and before she knew it, every single question she could ever imagine was coursing through the channels in her brain.
She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, dropping the phone straight onto the ground. Luckily there was carpet underneath her, but it still landed with a hefty thunk . She didn’t bother looking at her feet though.
And worse than how she was feeling, she couldn’t figure out why she felt that way. Was it just that she was so hard up that anyone showing any interest in her at all? Was it maybe that she believed what he said and needed, so badly, so damn badly, to have something real and meaningful in her life that she was willing to throw caution to the wind?
Then Laney’s temper started to flare. She slammed her fists into the top of her dresser and stared into her own beet-red eyes. “I don’t need this. I don’t need him. And if I’m falling apart to the point that I convince myself that I do, then I need to start going back to therapy and get the fuck over all this.”
She bent over, plucked her phone off the ground, and walked straight out the door, not bothering to look around her, not bothering to fix her hair. She slammed her front door shut, fumbled with her key just long enough to get it halfway into the lock. It wouldn’t turn. It wouldn’t go the rest of the way into the keyhole.
“God damn it!” Laney growled. “This is bullshit!”
Her own anger confused her, scared her, and sent a wave of heat through her stomach. This wasn’t the same warmth she felt with Rip. Hell, it wasn’t even the same way she felt when she’d initially got angry at him. This was something deeper, something hellish. This was something she had bottled up for years and years, and for some damn reason, had just decided to come spilling out all at once.
She growled again, yanked the key out, and then opened the door just to slam it closed again. Forcing herself to breathe in slow, patient rhythm, she finally managed to get the key in the lock and closed the deadbolt.
If she’d been paying attention as she tromped to her car, or if there hadn’t been quite so many tears in her eyes, or if her vision hadn’t be bright red from fury, she might’ve noticed the rustling in the long, reedy plants outside her bedroom window that she couldn’t quite remember the name of.
As she backed her car up, then tore down her gravel driveway, leaving a cloud of gray-white dust in her wake, Rip pushed out of the bushes, adjusted the jeans he’d picked up from where he left them in the woods, and waved his hand wildly in front of his face, trying to catch a breath that didn’t fill his mouth with grit that turned to mud as soon as it hit his mouth.
He didn’t taste the dirt though. He didn’t even feel the tiny rocks that pelted him as she blasted off onto the main road, showering him with pebbles.
Rip’s gray-caked face drew into hard lines. He gritted his teeth and blinked against the cloud that blew past him. A few moments later, the cloud began to dissipate, but he was still standing there. Rivulets of sweat ran down through the matte-finish covering him, clearing tiny paths before drying into tiny, muddy balls. The sky opening up right then and there and striking Rip with a bolt of lightning that cooked his brain into pudding wouldn’t have made that one moment any more starkly awful.
“Why?” he asked the blowing dirt that was finally clear enough that he
She sighed and let her phone holding hand fall flatly to her side. It thumped against her thigh, and Laney closed her eyes tightly shut. A tear that she couldn’t quite figure out, but that she felt from the very depths of her soul, rolled down her cheek hot and fast. Then another followed, and before she knew it, every single question she could ever imagine was coursing through the channels in her brain.
She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, dropping the phone straight onto the ground. Luckily there was carpet underneath her, but it still landed with a hefty thunk . She didn’t bother looking at her feet though.
And worse than how she was feeling, she couldn’t figure out why she felt that way. Was it just that she was so hard up that anyone showing any interest in her at all? Was it maybe that she believed what he said and needed, so badly, so damn badly, to have something real and meaningful in her life that she was willing to throw caution to the wind?
Then Laney’s temper started to flare. She slammed her fists into the top of her dresser and stared into her own beet-red eyes. “I don’t need this. I don’t need him. And if I’m falling apart to the point that I convince myself that I do, then I need to start going back to therapy and get the fuck over all this.”
She bent over, plucked her phone off the ground, and walked straight out the door, not bothering to look around her, not bothering to fix her hair. She slammed her front door shut, fumbled with her key just long enough to get it halfway into the lock. It wouldn’t turn. It wouldn’t go the rest of the way into the keyhole.
“God damn it!” Laney growled. “This is bullshit!”
Her own anger confused her, scared her, and sent a wave of heat through her stomach. This wasn’t the same warmth she felt with Rip. Hell, it wasn’t even the same way she felt when she’d initially got angry at him. This was something deeper, something hellish. This was something she had bottled up for years and years, and for some damn reason, had just decided to come spilling out all at once.
She growled again, yanked the key out, and then opened the door just to slam it closed again. Forcing herself to breathe in slow, patient rhythm, she finally managed to get the key in the lock and closed the deadbolt.
If she’d been paying attention as she tromped to her car, or if there hadn’t been quite so many tears in her eyes, or if her vision hadn’t be bright red from fury, she might’ve noticed the rustling in the long, reedy plants outside her bedroom window that she couldn’t quite remember the name of.
As she backed her car up, then tore down her gravel driveway, leaving a cloud of gray-white dust in her wake, Rip pushed out of the bushes, adjusted the jeans he’d picked up from where he left them in the woods, and waved his hand wildly in front of his face, trying to catch a breath that didn’t fill his mouth with grit that turned to mud as soon as it hit his mouth.
He didn’t taste the dirt though. He didn’t even feel the tiny rocks that pelted him as she blasted off onto the main road, showering him with pebbles.
Rip’s gray-caked face drew into hard lines. He gritted his teeth and blinked against the cloud that blew past him. A few moments later, the cloud began to dissipate, but he was still standing there. Rivulets of sweat ran down through the matte-finish covering him, clearing tiny paths before drying into tiny, muddy balls. The sky opening up right then and there and striking Rip with a bolt of lightning that cooked his brain into pudding wouldn’t have made that one moment any more starkly awful.
“Why?” he asked the blowing dirt that was finally clear enough that he
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