Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,52
Declan. The command was for our driver who was quick to swerve to the curb still two or three blocks from Cam’s house.
I was out the door in an instant, making no effort to cover myself from the cool, pelting rain. We had already passed the gated walls of the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t have mattered to me if we were in the worst neighborhood in South Central. I just wanted away from stupid Declan Davies, and all his ridiculously nosy questions. It was none of his damn business, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit in his car a second longer while he pretended it was.
“It’s no wonder you’re always running away when you’re so damn good at it.” There was bite in his words as he chased me across a supremely kept lawn. I’d seen that guy from those famous spy movies tossing a football around with his kids out here a few times.
We might have changed venues, but my performance was sticking to the script. I ignored him, and carried on in the most direct route to Cam’s front door.
I was making good time, and more than a little impressed with my power walking skills.
My foot hit the obscenely green grass of Cam’s yard, and the slick coating of water between my flip flop and foot got the best of me as the world suddenly shifted off kilter. I sprawled on the ground in a puddle of shredded grass and mud. The water soaked through my thin shirt almost instantly, as I struggled to recapture the breath that had just been knocked out of me.
Declan stood over me chuckling, and the embarrassment of the moment was too much. The edge of the cliff he’d been pushing me towards for weeks finally collapsed in a roaring avalanche, and I spiraled into the abyss, lost to my anger.
“I hate you!” The gusto of the declaration even took me by surprise, but I held onto the rage as I wrenched to my feet, pulling clumps of grass out of my hair with forceful movements. I was thankful I hadn’t worn mascara; otherwise I would have been sporting some serious war paint.
The white cotton of his shirt stretched translucently across the broad expanse of his chest. Damn him. His perfect physique pitched my anger into another stratosphere. I was too angry to even look at him a second longer, and I turned my mud stained back on him, and walked away in the same direction I’d been headed before the humiliating interruption.
“At least I can say I know what your family felt like now, watching you walk away.”
I was on him before he could even blink, shoving him as hard as I could. Declan stared down at his chest with shock where my hands had just made handprints with their violence. I couldn’t say I blamed him, though my surprise didn’t come from the fact that he’d finally driven me to assault. He deserved that. My astonishment lay elsewhere.
I was good at walking away. I’d perfected it. I never ever looked back…But somehow Declan had made me come back. No one else had ever had that power over me. For whatever, other horrible emotions he’d inflicted on me, I’d cared enough to come back…And that was a first.
My eyes tried to stab him with the sharp point of a glare.
“I hate you so much.”
“Why? Because I don’t accept your bullshit, copout excuses?” He didn’t back down. I didn’t know why I had expected him to.
“Yeah, well my bullshit, copout excuses are none of your business!”
Even if someone were staring out their window, they wouldn’t have been able to see us. I could barely see Declan through the punishing onslaught of the storm, and he was standing barely three feet away.
“You invite all this attention into your life and then decide it’s too much for you? Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. Newsflash – you kind of made it everyone’s business when you agreed to let your name be printed in that book.”
“You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”
A cruel sneer twisted his pretty mouth as he drew closer to me, daring me to retreat.
“Baby, you’re not nearly as complicated as you like to think you are.”
“You don’t know anything.” Each word was filled with quietness that showed every speck of the deadly calm beneath them. The screaming rain continued to rage, but I didn’t care if he’d heard me or not.