Instead, I settled with shaking my head. “Nothing.”
His finger traced down my bare arm as he made a thoughtful sound. “You can talk to me.”
“Why bother? We’ll just end up arguing.”
“No,” he disagreed. “You argue. I’m just along for the ride.”
I pondered that comment. “Is it wearing you down?”
“No, I like your fire.”
“If I put it out, would you be less enchanted by me?”
“No.”
I sighed, at my wits end. “You don’t care when I act out. You don’t care when I embarrass you. You don’t care when I throw my fits and tell random guests you kidnapped me. Tell me, Nixon, what would finally get under your skin?”
As expected, he was completely unperturbed. “There isn’t anything you can do that’ll drive me away.”
I brushed his hand away and scooted out of his hold. Holding the bedsheet tight around me, I turned around to look at him. “I don’t buy that.”
“Okay.”
Okay?
I huffed. “Can’t you see I’m getting worse? All I do is flip out. I can’t hold back anymore, Nixon. You’ve unwound me all the way. There’s nothing timid or innocent left. You’ve broken me.”
“You were broken when I met you,” he replied.
“No,” I disagreed. “I was hopeful.”
“You still are.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because you still think people are looking for you.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my thoughts. “Two years would make many people give up. That’s reality. I become a statistic and I get buried under dozens more cases of missing people. That doesn’t mean I should stop hoping.”
Nixon went quiet. I didn’t know what his silence meant, but there was a weight to it.
“People cared about me, you know,” I added quietly, holding back the surge of emotion. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“No,” he softly answered. “Not at all.”
“Do you think that’s normal?”
“I’m not normal.”
To that, I silently agreed.
Jesus, there was no getting through to him. I could paint the rights and wrongs to him in black and white, and it wouldn’t phase him. Because he didn’t care. He’d done it once before – at least – so why would it matter to him the second time around?
This bothered me. I felt bitter and moody. Whatever warm emotions I felt for him before, I quickly cooled. “Just so you know, that blowjob you demanded out of me wasn’t a thank you.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
Ughhhh.
I sucked at picking my moments. I couldn’t hold back when he gave me short ass answers like that. It was probably what he hoped for. He knew me well by now, triggering me because I couldn’t hold back my thoughts when I was pissed. I fell right into it. With a harsh look, I spat out, “By the way, Dr Sullivan told me some things.”
He propped his knee up and wrapped an arm around it, casually staring back at me like that didn’t mean anything. “Yeah?”
Fuck his one-word answers. “Yeah.” I enunciated rudely.
He waited a few moments before he shrugged. “Well, are you fixing to tell me what she said, Vixen, or are you going to keep me questioning?” He looked so unbothered, like he really didn’t give a fuck.
I frowned. “You know what, maybe I will keep you questioning.”
He smirked now. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated mockingly.
He chuckled, amused. “I know you, Vixen. You can’t keep shit to yourself. You’re like a rabid squirrel when you’re pissed. You’ll tell me in the next couple minutes what’s bothering you.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes,” he argued, casually, “you will.”
“Because I’ll be a rabid squirrel,” I retorted. “Real nice, Nixon. I should start comparing you to animals now.”
“Go on.”
“Okay, you’re a fucking ogre.”
“Ogres aren’t real.”
“Doesn’t matter, that’s what you are.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, okay.” When he smiled at that, I fumed. “You’re trying to get under my skin, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“If you give me another one-worded response, Nixon, I will find your gun and shoot this place up.”
He sucked in a breath. “Jesus, baby, you’re in a mood tonight.”
“Can’t you see why?”
“Yeah, I can.” Amused, he added, “Do you want me to fuck the mood out of you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then are we ready to go to bed yet? It’s getting late and we have a meeting with the crew in the morning.”
I was tired, but I was more stubborn. “You can go. I’m staying here.”
He stood up, and my face heated with annoyance. What, he was leaving just like that? He wasn’t going to even pry just a little bit more?
“Wow, you really don’t even care, do you?” I lashed out, knowing full well how ridiculous this was – how ridiculous I was being. I just couldn’t seem to stop.
“You’re being unreasonable, Vixen. Come to bed.”
As he began to walk away, I hurriedly jumped to my feet and flew in his direction. I cut in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. My cheeks heated as I looked up at his face, at his beautiful blue eyes and hated the way the fissure in my chest warmed.
“You made me this way, you know,” I growled, blinking back tears.
His amusement faded as he took in my distress. “Made you what way?”
“This unreasonable, rabid squirrel way!” I hissed. “If you’d just hurt me the first time I did it, I wouldn’t have dared done it again.”
He was desperate to calm me down because he playfully said, “I thought I always hurt you.”
I wasn’t in the mood for hysterics right now. “You know what I fucking mean.”
“Vixen, you’re not yourself –”
“You keep telling me I’m not myself every time I lose my shit. You never stop to wonder what makes me tick. You just fuck the mood outta me. Unless you plan on having your dick inside me 24/7, this is what you’re going to keep getting, Nixon.”
“Baby –”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I hate that fucking word.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
When he raised a hand to touch me, I took a step back, shaking my head. “Don’t do that, either. Don’t touch me like you care.”
“Of course I care.”
My heart squeezed. “Did you care for the girl before me?”
Shit, fuck, I’d said it. It was out there. It happened. I let it slip. He was right – I couldn’t hold back if I tried.
My body went stiff as I gauged his reaction, but he…just stared at me, unbothered, kind of like he wasn’t surprised at all.
“Yes,” he answered gravely. “I cared for the girl before you very much.”