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Why didn’t he talk to me all night?
Why is he mad?
Now I’m mad, which is why I find myself standing outside of his door, my fingers clenched around the handle. I twist and shove it open, the back side of it hitting the wall. Nate is lying on the top of the covers, leaning on one elbow with nothing but his white Calvin’s on. He’s doing something on his phone and his eyes slowly come up to mine, like me barging into his room was expected.
“What, Tillie?”
“Why are you mad at me?”
He finishes what he’s doing on his phone, not meeting my eyes. “I’m not mad at you.”
Am I being a twat? No, no I’m not. Because I’m sick of his mood swings. “Why haven’t you spoken to me?”
He exhales, tossing his phone onto the other side of the bed. “Have I not been giving you enough attention? Come sit.”
“I’m not your pet, Nate. I won’t sit when you tell me to sit.” … outside of the bedroom.
A dark smirk slides onto his mouth. “Really?”
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol that’s coursing through my body, or just the fact that he is Nate and I am Tillie, but I narrow my eyes on him. “What did I do wrong?”
“Wrong?” he asks, his eyebrows tipping up a little. “Nothing. Why would you do something wrong?”
“Can I ask you something?” I say, leaning on the door frame.
“You’re going to anyway…”
He’s right.
“Where do you see yourself in five year’s time?”
He pauses, seeming to think over his next words. Just when I think he’s not going to reply, he opens his mouth. “Living in my house.” His eyes flick to his phone. “Sitting beside Bishop as he reigns over this fucking world. Why?”
My heart stops beating for a second, or at least it feels that way, and my gut squeezes. “Doesn’t matter.” I turn on my heel. “Goodnight, Nate.”
And that, is why we could never work.
Tillie
Pressing my earbuds into my ears, I stretch my neck out and watch as the sun peeks up behind the trees, burning the dark with its light. Fergie starts rapping about being hungry as I stretch my legs briefly. I have become dependent on exercise since being in Brantley’s house. Now I crave the burn that comes with pushing your body to the absolute limit. I slip my phone into my armband and start jogging at a slow pace until I find my stride. There’s nothing for at least six miles, nothing but the long driveway that leads you to the cabin, and I love it. I’ll run to the end, where the high wired gates are, and back again and that would be twelve miles. The perfect distance to get me hyped. My feet hit the road faster as I find my stride, the music blaring through my ears, distracting me from that stupid conversation last night. I see the gate at the end, but I haven’t had enough. Pushing it open and off the latch, I slip out and keep running. I don’t know where I’m going but I know I just need to run. My chest burns, my heart thrashing in my chest so fast that my throat feels raw. A dark Range Rover pulls up beside me and I freeze, my body instantly stilling. I tear the pods out of my ears as the tinted window slides down.
I tentatively tread toward it, peeking in. I stop when I see it’s the same Rebel I locked lips with. “Um…”
“Get in, baby.”
He nods his head toward the door, and I reach for it, climbing in. He obviously has something to say and call me fucking stupid but there’s also a part of me that knows I’m somewhat untouchable in this world. People won’t cross me.
I swipe at the sweat that’s dripping from my forehead. “I smell, I’m sorry.”
He chuckles, his eyes coming to mine. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit and again, I see all of his ink peeking out of places that the suit doesn’t cover. Like his hands, and his neck, and even a small cross underneath his eye.
“I kidnap you, and you apologize for sweating on my leather?”
I purse my lips. “You kidnapped me?”
He smirks. “Yeah, and you made it the easiest one to date.”
He turns to face me, his eyes dropping to my mouth as he takes his seatbelt off so he can turn to me completely. The car pulls away and I’m suddenly aware of what the fuck I’ve just done. I’ll blame it on the endorphins running unleashed. For fuck’s sake, Tillie.
He reaches for my hand. “I won’t hurt you.”
“How do I know that?” My body is convulsing as I come down from my runner’s high. “You just stole me.”
He chuckles, reaching for my hand and pulling me close to him. “You don’t know why I stole you yet, though, do you…”