Read Online Loving Me, Trusting You by C. M. Stunich - Free Book Online
Authors: C. M. Stunich
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frown.
For too long, I've been subsisting on anger and hate and frustration, coasting through life on fumes. I want to change, but can I? I touch my fingers to my cheeks, feel the wetness and the heat. I want revenge, not just for me, but for anybody that's suffered like I suffered.
I want revenge, but the question is: will it bring me peace?
Guess there's only one way to find out.
When Mireya walks away and leaves me alone in the parking lot, I just about flip shit and end up cracking my helmet when I kick it against a cement pillar. I run my hand through my hair and sit on the edge of my bike with my forehead against my palm, elbow resting on my knee.
“You alright there, cowboy?” Beck asks, voice echoing from across the room. I don't look up at him and simply shake my head. He won't get it. Beck doesn't operate the same way I do. He's not a one woman kind of man. I can't even imagine him getting his panties into a wad over a girl, not even Melissa Diamond who I see is nowhere in sight.
“Fine,” I growl. “Just sittin' here with a heart split in two and a pair of the bluest balls you ever did see.” Beck laughs at me which doesn't help. I raise my face to glare at him, and all it does is make him piss his damn pants.
“You poor kid, you,” he guffaws, slappin' his damn knee. “You've got it worse than Austin Sparks.” I stand up and grab my damaged helmet, tossing it onto the back of my bike as I start to move away. Beck doesn't let me get far, jogging to catch up with me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Listen, Kelley,” he says, and something in his voice makes me stop. When I turn to glance at him, I don't see that mischievous bullshit rolling around in his face. He actually looks, for a single heartbeat in time, serious. “Mireya has to heal on her own. You can't just come in and sweep her off her damn feet. You didn't fall in love with a princess, so you can't play prince. Mireya Sawyer's a fuckin' knight, armor, spear and all. Let her fight her own battles. All you need to do is show her what path to ride down.”
“Ain't no damn fairytale, Beck,” I say, although I wish it was. I wouldn't mind a good old fashioned happy ending for Mireya and me. Beck scratches at his goatee with chipped fingernails and knuckles emblazoned with the worst word there is. Hopeless. I like it best when I can only see the right one. Hope's an important part of life, you know?
“I know, asshole. It's just a saying for Christ's sake. What I'm trying to say is, that woman could start a fight in an empty house. Just let her be, and try not to smother her for God's sake. Give her a little lovin' and a lot of space.”
“I've been giving her space for years, Beck.” I try to bring up a timeline in my head and find that my stomach's in knots. Seven years I've been with Triple M. From the second I saw her face, I was head over heels. Took me three years to get her to even look at me, and when she did, she didn't see in me what I always saw in her.
“You're pussy whipped without the damn pussy, ain't ya?” Beck asks, and when he starts laughing again, I leave him behind, heading into the lobby and up the stairs. I think about what Beck said, but it doesn't feel like a revelation. I've been leaving Mireya to her own devices for a long while now. I thought maybe with Austin out of the picture, things might be different, but I have a bad feeling that they're not going to be, that things will stay the same until I make them different.
So I march down the hallway to the door, unlock it and find that she's thrown the chain.
“Mireya!” I yell into the crack. I can see the ends of the beds, but not much else. “Let me in.” I wait patiently for a moment, but don't get any response. I listen for the sound of the shower, but don't hear much of anything. “Mireya!” I slam my fist on the door and nearly sock a punch to Austin's jaw when he materializes behind me.
“You're goin' to wake the whole damn
For too long, I've been subsisting on anger and hate and frustration, coasting through life on fumes. I want to change, but can I? I touch my fingers to my cheeks, feel the wetness and the heat. I want revenge, not just for me, but for anybody that's suffered like I suffered.
I want revenge, but the question is: will it bring me peace?
Guess there's only one way to find out.
When Mireya walks away and leaves me alone in the parking lot, I just about flip shit and end up cracking my helmet when I kick it against a cement pillar. I run my hand through my hair and sit on the edge of my bike with my forehead against my palm, elbow resting on my knee.
“You alright there, cowboy?” Beck asks, voice echoing from across the room. I don't look up at him and simply shake my head. He won't get it. Beck doesn't operate the same way I do. He's not a one woman kind of man. I can't even imagine him getting his panties into a wad over a girl, not even Melissa Diamond who I see is nowhere in sight.
“Fine,” I growl. “Just sittin' here with a heart split in two and a pair of the bluest balls you ever did see.” Beck laughs at me which doesn't help. I raise my face to glare at him, and all it does is make him piss his damn pants.
“You poor kid, you,” he guffaws, slappin' his damn knee. “You've got it worse than Austin Sparks.” I stand up and grab my damaged helmet, tossing it onto the back of my bike as I start to move away. Beck doesn't let me get far, jogging to catch up with me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Listen, Kelley,” he says, and something in his voice makes me stop. When I turn to glance at him, I don't see that mischievous bullshit rolling around in his face. He actually looks, for a single heartbeat in time, serious. “Mireya has to heal on her own. You can't just come in and sweep her off her damn feet. You didn't fall in love with a princess, so you can't play prince. Mireya Sawyer's a fuckin' knight, armor, spear and all. Let her fight her own battles. All you need to do is show her what path to ride down.”
“Ain't no damn fairytale, Beck,” I say, although I wish it was. I wouldn't mind a good old fashioned happy ending for Mireya and me. Beck scratches at his goatee with chipped fingernails and knuckles emblazoned with the worst word there is. Hopeless. I like it best when I can only see the right one. Hope's an important part of life, you know?
“I know, asshole. It's just a saying for Christ's sake. What I'm trying to say is, that woman could start a fight in an empty house. Just let her be, and try not to smother her for God's sake. Give her a little lovin' and a lot of space.”
“I've been giving her space for years, Beck.” I try to bring up a timeline in my head and find that my stomach's in knots. Seven years I've been with Triple M. From the second I saw her face, I was head over heels. Took me three years to get her to even look at me, and when she did, she didn't see in me what I always saw in her.
“You're pussy whipped without the damn pussy, ain't ya?” Beck asks, and when he starts laughing again, I leave him behind, heading into the lobby and up the stairs. I think about what Beck said, but it doesn't feel like a revelation. I've been leaving Mireya to her own devices for a long while now. I thought maybe with Austin out of the picture, things might be different, but I have a bad feeling that they're not going to be, that things will stay the same until I make them different.
So I march down the hallway to the door, unlock it and find that she's thrown the chain.
“Mireya!” I yell into the crack. I can see the ends of the beds, but not much else. “Let me in.” I wait patiently for a moment, but don't get any response. I listen for the sound of the shower, but don't hear much of anything. “Mireya!” I slam my fist on the door and nearly sock a punch to Austin's jaw when he materializes behind me.
“You're goin' to wake the whole damn
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