Page 61
Story: The Outsider
“Excuse me? Are you implying that I’m irresponsible? Because I’m going to a bar with a man that I—”
“You’re his superior. His boss. It’s inappropriate.”
Bix looked at him, her blue eyes flat. She spread her hands wide. “Are you concerned that I’m taking advantage of him, Daughtry?”
“Well, you do have to be mindful about these things,” he said, barely getting the words out around his gritted teeth.
“Oh. Well. Thanks for letting me know. I will be sure to be extra mindful. Is there a form I should submit to human resources? Oh wait. You don’t have a human resources department, you just have a dumb fucking attitude.”
“Wait a second,” he said. “Why am I the bad guy just because I want to take care of you? That’s what I’ve been doing since you got here, and you’ve been fine with it as long as it was in the form of food and shelter.”
“I was fine with it as long as it wasn’t high-handed and unreasonable. This is about my personal life. I’m allowed to have one. I’m not... I am not a stray dog that you took in. I’m a woman, and if I want to go on a date...” Her eyes filled with tears, and it made him want to retreat. Because that was just weird as hell. “Why am I not allowed to go on a date? I’m not a raccoon. I’m not a child. If he wants me, then why can’t I go out with him?”
It was a good question. And there was no reason. Except that he felt absurdly possessive of her, and he had no call to it. It had nothing to do with attraction.Ever since that dance Bix hadn’t seemed fazed by him in the least. Like it had passed with the moment—and it sure as hell should have.
He just didn’t like Michael. That was all.
“He just strikes me as the kind of guy who does these things casually,” he said.
And that was true.
“Maybe I’m not in the market for anything but casual,” she said.
“Bix, I worry about you.”
“Daughtry, I navigated a whole scary world without you in my life for twenty-three years. Do you think men never hit on me?”
And he could see that there was definitely a wrong answer to that question. “I...”
“They do,” she said.
Hesitation was apparently wrong.
“And here I am. Just fine. Do you not remember when you found me? I was willing to stab you. And you wouldn’t be the first man that I’ve stabbed.”
“I wouldn’t?”
“No. I can take care of myself. I appreciate... I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But now I work here. I have a job. I am earning my keep and pulling my weight and all of that. You’ll get to treat me like... you’ll get to treat me like that.”
“I’m sorry...”
She shook her head. “Just forget it.”
She stomped out of the barn, and left him standing there, feeling like a villain. Which wasn’t fair because he wasn’t being a villain; he was being protective.
He let out a hard breath. She was impossible. That was the problem.
And she didn’t make any sense.
He stood there in the doorway, looking at the blank space where Bix had once been.
She was the problem. She didn’t make any sense.
He repeated that to himself all the way back to his place, and then back to his brother’s place.
“I didn’t know you were intending to come for dinner tonight,” said Denver, sticking his wallet in his back pocket, and grabbing his keys off the table.
“I... I usually do,” he said.
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