Page 63 of Dark Breaker

I’m tempted to relocate to a different apartment entirely, but I’m reluctant to do so. It’s too much of a hassle. Plus, it wouldn’t be hard to tail me to the new place. Besides, I feel safe here with all the weapons I have stowed in the suite. Rosa hasn’t seen my hidden armory, yet. Maybe I’ll show it to her someday, if she behaves.

I return to the kitchen counter and write down the new passcode on a piece of paper.

Just then Rosa storms out of the room. She’s dressed in her leather jumpsuit. She’s got the zipper closed right up to the top of her neck so that there’s no cleavage revealed whatsoever.

She heads down the hall, making straight for the elevator. She presses the button.

I go to her and consider restraining her. But I don’t. Just as I’d never force myself on a woman, it’s not my style to cage them. At least not generally: if she intended to never return, I’d stop her.

“Here’s the new passcode for the elevator.” I slip the piece of paper to her.

She crumples it up and slides it into her purse. “I don’t need it.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“I’m not coming back,” she replies.

Now I’m fucking angry.

I slam the wall beside her, forming a dent and blocking her path. “Yes. You. Are.”

She tilts her head mockingly. “Why? Because I’m your property?”

“You fucking got it,” I tell her.

She seems unaffected by my rage. “I’ll think about it.”

“I did nothing,” I continue. “The bitch let herself in. I kept telling her to go.”

“Yeah fine, okay,” Rosa says. “I’m going to class.”

The elevator opens.

She glances at my arm. “Would you mind?”

I realize I’m breathing hard. My face feels hot, contorted.

I close my eyes a moment, then let my arm drop.

She shoves past me but before she steps inside, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tight.

“I don’t like being treated like this way,” I hiss into her ear. “With… contempt.”

“Neither do I!” She spins her head toward me. “You’ve only treated me with contempt since the moment we’ve met! And I’m sick of it!”

I’m taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“You always look at me like you think you’re better than me,” she says. She’s crying now.

I’m truly stunned. “No I don’t. You’re the one who looks at me like that.”

“Maybe it’s part of my defense mechanism,” she says. “Maybe it’s my way of protecting myself from you. I’m trying to avoid opening up to you, trying to avoid falling for you, because I know you’ll only rip my fucking heart out. So please, let me go. I have to go to school now.”

Dazed, I release her. She steps into the elevator and turns around to look at me with her red eyes. Her cheeks are covered in tears. She wipes them and sniffles.

I have this sudden urge to go to her and hug her and tell her everything is going to be all right. If there’s any moment to do that, it’s now. But I don’t, I just stand there like an idiot.

And then the moment passes, because the elevator closes and I’m left standing there alone.