gaze again, I explain, “That’s why I recorded it. It was proof, so I could win. Because that’s all I cared about.”
I tell her because I’d rather see that spark of disgusted hatred in her eyes turned on me then herself.
And that’s exactly what I get.
In a flash, she’s cleared the space between us, face red and contorted, and it doesn’t even matter when she strikes out, hitting me in the nose. I plant my feet, set my jaw, and I fucking take it, because this is better, so much better when it’s aimed at me.
“You bastard!” she cries, bouncing her fists off my cheek, my shoulder, my chin. “I fucking hate you! You’re evil, you piece of shit!” One of her punches lands right between my eyes, snapping my head back momentarily, but I recover just in time for another blow to land right on the ridge of my eyebrow. I can feel the sharp sting, skin splitting, but not before she catches me in the mouth, rattling my teeth. I can feel when she’s burned through it, her fists barely fazing me until she eventually stops trying, shoving weakly at my chest instead.
She staggers back, exhausted and flushed as she releases a tight, pained sob. “It was all a lie,” she cries, folding onto the floor in a heap of wild hair and limp limbs.
I take a second to get my bearings, pins of panic dotting the edges of my vision—or maybe that’s just from her knuckles slamming into my temple. When everything sharpens, I suck my teeth, tasting blood, and crouch down to cradle her head in my palms.
“Georgia, look at me.” She doesn’t, eyes fixed somewhere on the floor as a sob wracks her body. I sweep her hair back anyway, ducking my head in an attempt to catch her gaze. “He can’t use it. It’s as good as deleted. Yes, I sold it for the money, but not without making sure it was useless to him.” My bones feel heavy but oddly hollow as I thumb away the wetness on her cheeks. “And the bet was stupid, but that was a long time ago. I didn’t understand then about the gambling addiction, and I was so fucking mad at you. Back then, I wanted to hurt you and I wanted to win, and I think…” I sigh, shoulders slumping. “I think I got manipulated, too. I know it doesn’t make it any better, but—”
“I defended you,” she gasps, pulling in a wet sniffle. “I told you things I’ve never even told—” She sounds so sick and disgusted with herself that it makes my stomach explode in a storm of fire. “I actually cared about you.”
“You aren’t listening to me,” I realize, trying to shake some sense into her. “He can’t use it, I made sure. Georgia, I made sure.”
She stills, the sobs fading into hitched gasps, and then slowly into shallow breaths. When she finally looks up at me, her eyes are wet and terrifyingly vacant. “I thought I loved you,” she croaks, chin wobbling. “How much did you get for that?”
“No,” I say, cradling her cheeks in my hands. “Hey, don’t—it’s not like that. It wasn’t a lie. Georgia, I…”
A better man could say it back. A stronger man could have heard her say those words and felt something other than the sickening churn of regret. I’m neither of those men. I’m the man who realizes I’ve lost it before I ever had to chance to grasp it. It sits heavy in my chest, a gnarled sense of failure. A casualty of my own doing.
Darting forward, I kiss her. It’s a frantic, desperate move, made all the more painful by her lack of response. But this is how we work. We’ve never talked with words. I pull back long enough to say, “I’ll fuck you, okay?” and reach for the button of my pants. That’s what she always wants, my only value. Her lips are pliant and warm when I return, parted more in shock than anything. I lick into the seam of her mouth anyway, easing her to the floor. “I’ll eat your pussy,” I promise, hiking up her skirt. “Whatever you want. Just don’t—” When I realize she’s motionless, staring listlessly up at my chin, I pause, hand going still between her thighs. I look into her tired eyes, chest twisting with the knowledge that it’s over.
I’ve lost.
I rest my forehead against hers, inhaling the soft scent of her perfume. What comes