Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,64

what am I supposed to do?” I ask, a hint of desperation in my voice.

“You get in the car and let me take care of this, baby.”

“Tori, for fuck’s sake. NOW!” Nathan barks. Losing all patience with me, he strides over to his bike, holds out the extra helmet for me, and waits for me to take it.

Deep down, I think I know that he’s bluffing. I don’t believe he’s going to have my father arrested. He’d let me go if I persisted, but seeing him here, chasing me down, makes something inside of me stir. I need to know why; I need to know how he could do this to me after I gave myself so freely to him. I make up my mind, walk over to him, and take the helmet.

“Victoria.” Dad sighs, shaking his head.

Nathan gets on the bike and I hop on behind him, “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll meet you back at my place; I just need to end this.”

“Like hell you do,” Nathan comments under his breath. I put on the helmet and wrap my arms around his waist just before he pulls onto the highway, weaving through the traffic.

I don’t know how to feel about any of this, about all that’s gone down since last night, about me wracking my brain with how to tell him about my life when he already knew. He knew all along, and not only did he allow me to get emotionally and physically involved with him, but he told me loved me and I actually believed him.

By the time we pull up outside of his apartment, I’m fuming with anger. I’m off the bike in record time. I take off the helmet and throw it at him with full force; all he can do is dodge, and lucky for him, it misses and hits the concrete instead.

“What the fuck.”

“I hate you,” I yell. It feels good to get some of the rage out. “I really fucking hate you,” I tell him, shoving him in the chest when he attempts to get close to me.

“I understand why you’re angry, but we’re not doing this here.” He grabs me by the arm and drags me all the way up to his apartment. When he shoves me in the door, I about lose my mind.

“Let go of my arm.”

“Relax.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, pulling my arm back hard. He releases his hold on me and I can’t see straight because I’m so filled with rage. All of my cool, calm composure is obliterated, and I see red. Literally see red. It’s like an out of body experience when my hand connects with his cheek. The sound of the slap pushes me on; I need to make him feel the pain that I feel, just a little bit of what this feels like. I shove him again, hard enough for him to take a step back.

“Stop it.”

“Screw you,” I yell pummeling him in the chest, tugging at his shirt, trying to claw his fucking eyes out. I’ve become a wild animal, and I can’t stop myself from attacking him.

“Baby, stop,” he says.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t you ever fucking call me that again,” I screech as I scratch the hell out of his arm, and then Nathan is done with me. It doesn’t take long for him to immobilize me. Soon, he is holding me with both arms behind my back so that I can’t fight.

“You need to stop. If we’re going to do this, then we’re going to do it calmly.”

“Calm? Calm!? You set me up, you son of a bitch.”

“I was doing my job, and if you would calm the fuck down, I could explain it to you.”

“Explain what? Explain how I’m going to spend the rest of my life in jail because of you?”

“You’re not going to jail,” he grunts in my ear. He rests his forehead on my head, his breath coming in short quick pants. “I’m letting you go now, and I swear to God, if you hit me again, I’m going to tackle you and tie you to the fucking bed.”

I want to keep fighting him, but if I know anything about this man, it’s that he’ll do it. He’ll actually tie me to the bed and where would that leave me. I’m tired of being at his mercy; I’m tired of being weak.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” I say through gritted teeth. He lets me go and I step away from him quickly. I keep my back