Chapter 7
SEVEN
VIC
Iknow there is something she’s not telling me.
I’ve read every emotion on her face for years.
It’s there in the way her breath catches.
I pull back to look her in the eye. Again, in the way she won’t meet mine.
An intimate silence thickens around us, so I table the conversation for another time as I kiss her instead.
And just as I am about to take this further, a knock sounds that couldn’t have come at a worse time.
It's sound slicing through our perfect little bubble.
I grit my teeth, and a pulse tics at my jaw as I hold back the thought of strangling whoever is at the door that dared to interrupt this moment between us.
“To be continued,” I state coolly, even as the heat prickles under my skin at the anger I keep at bay. She looks at me quizzically, almost innocently, as if she isn’t the one hiding something from me.
I pause, running a hand through my hair as I try to shake off this feeling. I feel her loss immediately, and I feel colder now, without her near, as I walk toward the door to answer it, just remembering about the appointment today.
“Realtor.” I toss the word to Dani without looking back. The door creaks as I pull it open, reminding me of the sound of my father’s voice that always followed shouting my mother’s name. Although the man is no longer alive to threaten me daily, he still haunts my past.
A young man, not much older than us, stands at the entranceway, glancing around the house’s exterior, and abruptly turns around as the door swings open, as if he hadn’t expected me to answer it so quickly.
His eyes flicker into the dimly-lit interior of the house before returning to mine.
“Hi,” he says, extending his hand. “Brandon Marx.” I look at his hand, unmoving for a second too long, before I finally shake it.
His handshake is firm and confident, and something about his smile seems too polished. But I see it.
“Victor.” I take his hand, giving it a firm squeeze that comes with a warning, but if he notices, he doesn’t let on.
And right on cue, her voice causes my grip to tighten.
Brandon doesn’t flinch. He nods, showing way too many white, polished teeth.
“Come in,” I hear Dani say as Brandon notices her, releasing my hand, and walks in front of me.
His hand is already outstretched to her, and I bet he has that fake smile already plastered to his face, too.
I close the door behind us slowly, trying to regain my composure. “Hi, Mrs. Flores?” he states it as a question, but it just grates on my last nerve because I know exactly why he asks. A low growl escapes before I can stop it, surprising even me as he holds onto her hand.
She laughs softly and shakes her head. “No, I’m Dani. Just Dani.” That’s all it takes. Two strides and I’m beside her, sliding an arm around her waist, and pulling her into my side. Her hand reaches around to mine across her waist.
Brandon hesitates, and a frown forms before he is forced to release her hand. Good. I was just wondering what it would be like to break every finger that touched her before severing it from his body.
Dani squeezes my hand, bumping me with her shoulder playfully.
Her warm fingers slip through mine, grounding me away from my dark thoughts.
I look down at her, expecting annoyance, but her eyes are alight with that familiar mischievous twinkle I’ve come to love so much.
The one that ruins me every time, calling to the darkest part of me.
“Dani is my girlfriend,” I state, turning to face him fully, letting a wicked smile form across my lips. The word hit their intended mark as Brandon falters. He stumbles back half a step before regaining his footing, realizing his mistake.
“Well.” He clears his throat and clasps his hands in front of him, announcing in his all-business voice, “When do you want to list the house?”
I don’t see, but I feel Dani shrink against me.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as frustration begins to build.
Without another word, I step away from her.
“Come on, Brandon,” I say, starting to walk away and beckoning him with my hand.
“Follow me and I’ll show you around the house so you can tell me what you think. ”
Brandon nods without looking at Dani again, then begins to walk behind me for a tour of the property. We walk out of the living room toward the kitchen, which leads to the back exit of the house. I push open the kitchen door, as it slowly creaks on its rusted hinges.
We step outside as the warm sunlight shines brightly against the dark cloud that surrounds me.
As I look around, a sense of pride hits me because the yard looks better than it has in years.
I’ve tried to keep up the lawn, and with Dani’s help, removed the dead plants and planted some flowers, giving the landscaping a much-needed lift.
It's incredible how something so simple can make the place feel less haunted.
The house has good bones, and I hope the new owners can erase the darkness that lingers here.
I knew this day was fast approaching, and we knew that I would have to sell this house, but seeing the way she shrank against me made it so much more real.
The fact that I will soon be leaving her kills me.
The feeling in my chest is like a dagger to the heart.
It hurts more than my father's shouts and his meaty fists that struck me down more times than I’d like to remember.
Brandon stands with one hand tucked into the pocket of his khakis, casually surveying the exterior upgrades to the house. He pivots in place, glancing over the flower beds, the back porch, and the yard before returning to look at me.
“So…what do you think?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral, because I want to know if I can get a reasonable price for my home.
I was able to cash in on some of my father’s retirement savings, although it was a small amount.
I am also counting on the sale of my house to help pay for college.
I am already approved for a work-study program, so that will help a bit, but most of it hinges on this.
And despite logic, sadness envelops me because as I look over every square inch of this house, all I can think of is that this was ours—mine and Dani’s hard work.
The good memories of us and our shared dreams, along with the things we don’t talk about, are all to be left behind with a price tag.
Brandon unwraps a piece of gum, pops it into his mouth, and proceeds to chew it loudly.
The sound of his chewing grates on my nerves, with each pop and wet snap.
I force myself to ignore it. He bobs his head back and forth, continuing to smack the gum between his teeth.
Finally, he nods. “I think it will fetch a good price.” My shoulders drop slightly at his words, and the breath I was holding escapes slowly through pursed lips.
“That's good news,” I say, wiping the sweat that has started to bead across my forehead. The Texas sun continues beating down on us like it has a personal vendetta.
Brandon flashes me a smile. “So…are you ready to list it?”
I nod. “Yeah, let's do it.” We head back to the house, where Dani is still in the living room, packing up the boxes of clothes and knick-knacks to donate. She doesn’t look up.
I walk Brandon out to the front door. He pauses with one hand on the doorframe before stepping out.
“I will get some comps for you,” he says, throwing me that fake smile.
“It should give you a better idea of what price your house would fetch on the market.” He pauses.
“I think you will make out well on this sale. And hey, you might even be surprised.” I nod once, my hold on the doorknob grip becoming tighter as I hold it open for him.
But he doesn’t move. He turns toward Dani, who is still crouched over a box.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Dani.” He lifts his hand in a small wave.
Before she can reply, I nearly shove him out the door.
Shutting the door harder than I should, I stare at it, like I’m waiting for Brandon to come back and ask about my girl.
But he doesn’t. I watch him walk over to the car, sparing one last glance at the house, before pulling out and driving down the street.
When I turn around, Dani is staring at me with one eyebrow arched. It freaks me out when she does that. “What?” I play dumb, even though I know exactly what she is thinking.
“Vic,” she says with her arms crossed across her chest. “I cannot believe you were so rude to that realtor," she says angrily, but her actions belie her words.
I shrug. “He was trying to hit on you right in front of me.” She shakes her head, more exasperated than anything else. “You know it’s true,” I press, watching her reaction closely.
She chuckles, placing a hand across her forehead. “What were you thinking?” Her voice is weary, and concern laces her following words. “You know there aren’t any realtors in this area, at least not one who isn’t already overwhelmed with clients.”
I stroll toward her slowly with intent. I pull her into my arms, burying my head in the crook of her neck. “I was thinking,” I murmur as my lips brush against her warm skin, “what it would be like to sever his hand from his body after he touched you.”
Her sudden intake of air makes me smile.
I press my mouth against her soft skin there, sucking until I know it will leave a mark.
“Would you like that, baby?” I laugh lowly, but there is no humor to it.
My tongue follows up, soothing the area where I’m sure a bruise is already forming.
She moans. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
” She doesn’t answer, but I feel it as her fingers grip my shoulders tightly in response.
She’s just as turned on by my violent and cruel side as she is by my everyday rational thoughts.
I lift her easily, bringing her legs up to wrap around my waist and keep her there, right where she belongs.