Page 41 of Reaper's Claim

He shot that trademark grin at me, and I knew instantly I wasn’t going to like the answer.

“To the club, babe.”

So we have it; I was right.

I stumbled up the front steps of the house of horrors. High heels and alcohol were a bad combination for any female, and I was clumsier than most.

The door opened up after I forced my key in it. I hated this place. I hated my aunt. I hated Kim and well, I just hated everything.

“You’re going to wake everyone up.” Drake followed me in, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Does it look like I give a shit?” I pulled my heels off and flicked the foyer light on.

“Ok, that’s it.” Drake grabbed my wrist, causing me to fling back around and once he had me facing him, he backed me up against the wall. “What’s up, Abby? You're bitchier than normal.”

Had I been? I didn’t think I had been. If anyone else were in my shoes, I’m sure they would be struggling to find a reason to be pleasant as well.

“The door is behind you if you want to leave,” I snapped in his face.

He arched both his eyebrows as if I was proving his point. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Sounds great to me.”

“You know what your problem is, Abby? You’re selfish.”

“You know what my problem is, Drake? YOU!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now, is it?” He shook his head, hand on the front doorknob. “You can’t take responsibility for your own shit.” He pointed the car keys at me.

For someone who was concerned about waking the household up, he didn’t seem to be lowering his voice now.

“Maybe I’m just over this.” I gestured between the two of us. “One day you want me, the next you want nothing to do with me, and then fuck, you want me again, but only to help you out.”

“I told you I don’t like labels.”

“I’m not asking for a fucking label; I’m asking for some respect.” I crossed my arms, and maybe it was the bitch in me coming out or maybe I was just fed up with men thinking they could treat me like this. I took two long strides towards him. “You think you can keep me in the dark. You think I don’t know shit, but you’re wrong and tonight, I’ve had enough.”

“You’re drunk, Abby, sleep it off.”

“Is that your excuse tonight? When you had that stripper whore pinned up against the brick wall in the alley?” I shook my head at him, disgusted. “You honestly think that I don’t know what you get up to?”

He looked like he had been caught out, and he had. This was the first time I brought it up with him. I had always looked the other way, but tonight, I’d had enough.

“I never promised to be faithful.”

“And I never promised to be a ray of fucking sunshine.” I glared back at him. “So get off my case about my attitude.”

“Fine, whatever.” He raised his hands, surrendering. “Hate everyone then and act like a bitch. I’m done.”

“You’re done again, are you? Well, fuck me, what a surprise. I catch you cheating, and you’re done.”

“I’m leaving before you say something you can’t fucking take back.”

“Like what? That I really hate you?” I screamed at his back. I threw my handbag in his direction, but it hit the door. He closed it just in time with a loud bang.

Drake and I fought. Drake and I fucked. Drake and I made up.

This was us, poisonous and unhealthy. I thought briefly for a moment about just leaving my upturned handbag on the floor, but then the thought of Aunty Escort going through my stuff had me on my knees and retrieving the bag.