Spike grinds his jaw. “Give me the fuckin’ bottle.”
“Make me,” I giggle.
He lunges forward, gripping the bottle with one hand and the back of my head with the other. I realize when my back hits the floor; he gripped the back of my head to stop it slamming down. His hard body lands on top of mine, and with a grunt, he tries to prop himself up. He manages to get the bottle standing upright beside us, before turning and glaring down at me.
“You fuckin’ finished?”
“Yeah,” I growl sarcastically. “I’m fuckin’ finished.”
“Smart mouthin’ me ain’t gonna save you, Ciara.”
I snort. “What will save me, biker?”
“Tellin’ me why the fuck you’re drunk as twenty men, yellin’ at photos of your sister.”
“Your wife, you mean?”
He flinches, and his face flashes with hurt and rage. “Enough.”
“Why?” I growl, getting in his face. “Why should I stop going on and on about princess Cheyenne?”
“You’re walkin’ a fine line, Ciara. Ain’t a good idea to talk about my dead wife to me right now, and it sure as shit ain’t a good idea to be smart mouthin’ me when I’m already fuckin’ pissed off.”
“I couldn’t care less how pissed off you are,” I snap. “You’re only here to fuck me, right?”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, and just as I think he’s about to, he lifts himself off me. He gets to his feet, leans down and hurls me up.
“Go and have a shower.”
“No,” I growl.
“You’re fuckin’ drunk, angry, and you need to shower and sleep.”
“Don’t tell me what I need!” I yell, shoving at his chest. “You don’t care what I need.”“Ain’t discussing this with a drunken, rambling girl!”
“You wouldn’t discuss it with me anyway. You’ve already given me the lowdown! You’ll fuck me, keep me around, you won’t share me, but you’ll never fucking give yourself to me, either. I’m no more than an easy fuck you can keep around. Why bother, Spike? Why don’t you just walk away and never speak to me again?”
“I fuckin’ tried!” he yells, stepping close. “I fuckin’ tried, but you insisted on huntin’ me down and tryin’ to make it better. You wanted my forgiveness so you could move on and be happy again. You were the one who wanted to fuckin’ fix somethin’ that couldn’t be fixed!”
“Then why are you here?” I cry, stumbling backwards. “Why bother?”
“We’re not doin’ this now, Ciara,” he growls, his voice low and deep.
“Yes,” I yell. “We are. You won’t speak to me about this, you just keep shoving me away.”
“Nothin’ to fuckin’ talk about!” he hisses. “Past is the fuckin’ past.”
“Then leave, Spike. I’m done talking to you, and I’m sure as shit done trying to help someone who refuses to let me in.”
“Why do you fuckin’ think that is?” he barks.
I cross my arms, and glare at him. “Oh, now you’re going to talk!”
“You fuckin’ stood in that courtroom, and you fuckin’ brought me down with every scathing word. Then you wondered why I fuckin’ hated you—and fuck, Ciara, I did fuckin’ hate you.”
Ouch. That hurts. It hurts far more than I ever imagined it would. I reel back, and my hand presses to my heart. I struggle to fight with the pain inside me, and I struggle to push it aside to let the anger I know is there through. When it finally shows its face, it’s lethal, mean, and no doubt completely uncalled for.
“She was my fucking sister,” I screech. “She had her fucking brains blown out while she was driving YOU to safety. I hated you for that, and I had every right to.”
He jerks and his eyes flare. “You fuckin’ bitch,” he bellows. “You have no fuckin’ idea! I never wanted her in that fuckin’ car. NEVER. I wanted that fuckin’ bullet, and I’ve wanted it every day since. You didn’t stand in that courtroom to defend her, you did it to get back to me.”
I lunge forward, and I hit him so hard in the jaw that his head spins to the side. He growls, gripping my hands and shoving me up against the wall. My head spins, and I struggle to gather my bearings. We’re both panting, both having gone far and beyond normal retaliation. This is it. The moment we’ve needed to have for so many years now.
“I did hate her,” I scream, shaking. “I did, because she took you. I loved you, and she took you. She went out of her way to take what was mine, and then she rubbed it in my face every fucking day after it.
“Then you fucked me, and god, I thought there was a chance. There was never a chance. Then she died, and I was so angry. I was so angry that you had put her in that position. I was angry at you for even involving yourself in her life, and I was angry that she left behind something so fucking beautiful, broken. She left you broken. She left me broken. And I’ve paid for it ever since.
“I went into that courtroom so ready to make you pay for all the pain left in my life. I never fucking said it was the right thing to do, and I tried to say sorry...”
“The damage was already done,” he growls, his face so close to mine I can smell him and oh, he smells amazing. “You came back, and you fuckin’ broke me. I was grieving, and you took Cade’s side. You took his fuckin’ side because of your anger toward me. You fuckin’ ripped my heart out, and then you fuckin’ stomped on it before shoving it back in my chest and expecting me to be okay with it. I’m not fuckin’ okay with it!”