14. Wentworth
FOURTEEN
Wentworth
THIS IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE. HAVING Kait here. Watching her move around my space. Watching her study the framed memories I have scattered around it.
Last time it was easier.
Last time I was angry.
Last time, I basically held her hostage and almost fucked her to death before I finally came to my senses and let her go. Not that she seemed to mind.
I’m still angry.
I still want to fuck her.
But I don’t want to punish her—not anymore.
I just want to understand what happened.
What I did.
Why she left.
I won’t ask though. I can’t because asking would mean ripping myself open for her, all over again, and that’s not something I’m willing to do. Those wounds are closed, and they’re going to stay that way.
Gaslighting myself has become an essential survival skill.
I’m taking my sweet jesus time, changing out my needles and filling my inks, trying to stave off the inevitable. Hoping against hope that Tess will get tired of waiting on me and let me give Kait a raincheck that I have no intention of honoring so she can go home to her giant dickhead instead of harassing me. I should know better by now—there’s no such thing as waiting Tess out. Not when she’s made her mind up to harass you.
“Just so you know,” she says, boosting herself onto my display counter again. “I’m prepared to sleep here if that’s what it takes, so you might as well just start Kait’s tattoo already.”
Shooting her a brief, over-the-shoulder look, on my way back to the sink, I ignore what she just said. “Can I at least put my shirt back on?”
“Sure.” She gives me a blasé shrug. “To be honest, I’m surprised you took it off in the first place.”
Shooting her a dirty look, I make an impatient gimme gesture with my hand. “You asked me to, remember?”
“Yeah.” Picking my shirt up on a laugh, she hands it to me. “But I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
“You know…” Snatching my shirt out of her hand, I practically snarl at her before I pull it back on. “One of these days, your ass is going to go right through that glass.”
“Good.” Tess grins at me while she swings her feet, the heel of her boot bumping against the back of the case. “Then I can sue you for a billion dollars and buy my own private island.”
“That’s your plan?” Laughing at her, in spite of myself, I jab the soap dispenser with the heel of my hand and begin to lather. “You want the island, I’ll just give it to you. No need to cause yourself bodily injury.”
A private island in the Caribbean sea between Jamacia and Florida was one of the assets my grandfather left to me. He had plans to build an all-inclusive resort, but the plans stalled out when he died. All that’s on it is an airstrip, a dock, and a handful of solar-powered, luxury bungalows my grandfather had built to show potential investors.
“I don’t want your island.” Still swinging her legs, Tess gives me a cheeky grin. “I want my own island.”
Turning on the faucet with my elbow, I keep laughing. “Well, Dickhead is rich,” I remind her while, bent over the sink, I start to scrub. “Not as rich as me— or as good-looking—but I’m sure he’d be willing to buy you just about anything you asked for.”
“Do you want to fuck Kaitlyn?”
The question hits me out of nowhere. A baseball bat to the head, so hard and fast I feel my shoulders stiffen and my vision swim against the force of it. Straightening myself, I smack the faucet with my elbow again, this time so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t break. Giving my hands a single, violent shake, I turn around to glare at her.
“You’re going to have to stop hanging out with Con.” Shaking my head, I let out a rough, humorless laugh that I hope covers up the fact that I can’t fucking breathe. “Seriously. He’s a bad influence on you.”
“Good luck with that,” she barks out on a loud belly laugh. “Not only is he my best fucking friend—he’s also my business partner. There hasn’t been a single day in my life since I was seventeen that I haven’t hung out with him.”
“Well, that explains it,” I tell her even though I’m perfectly aware of the fact that she and Con have lived in each other’s back pockets for all of their adult lives. “Because you act just like him.”
“Thank you.” She gives me a sweet smile, still swinging her legs. “It was a rhetorical question, anyway—I know you want to fuck her.”
“Jesus Christ.” Turning away from her, I snatch up a wad of paper towels from the stack and start drying my hands. “Can you keep your voice down?”
“Why?” Tess looks genuinely confused. “We’ve already talked about it—she’s perfectly aware that you want to fuck her.”
“Stop saying that.” I sputter it out on an angry hiss, the back of my neck so hot it feels like someone’s pressing hot coals against it. “She’s not even my type.”
Tess stares at me like I’m the dumbest man alive for about three seconds before she bursts out laughing. “Petite brunette with a great ass and callused hands—” She tilts her head and widens her hazel eyes at me with another snort. “Please—you’re embarrassing yourself.”
Shaking my head, I turn away from her just long enough to toss my wad of damp paper towels in the trash. “You’re a fucking asshole.” When I turn back around she’s grinning at me.
“I prefer agent of chaos ,” she says before she boosts herself off the counter, the look on her face growing serious before her boots hit the floor. “I just want to see you happy, Went. That’s all.”
“I am happy.” When I say it, I want to put my head through the fucking wall because I can hear the lie and so can Tess. To cover it up, I turn away from her to snag a couple of gloves from the dispenser.
“No you’re not.” She says it quietly with a small headshake. “I don’t think you’ve ever been happy—not since I’ve known you. Not really.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong.
That I was happy when I was with her, but I can’t because it would be another lie and I don’t think Tess would tolerate me lying to her twice in the same conversation.
I shake my head while I pull on my gloves. “And you think hooking up with Ryan’s nursemaid is my pathway to contentment?”
“Welp—” She gives me another cheeky grin while she shrugs her shoulders. “it couldn’t fuckin’ hurt.”
“Did she tell you that?” It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it and I have the urge to put my head through the wall again. “Did she tell you I want to fuck her?”
Tess gives me an odd look before shaking her head. “No—Nurse Ratchet is convinced you want nothing to do with her,” she informs me with a whatever kind of eye roll. “So, I took it upon myself to tell her that she’s wrong and that you’d very much want to?—”
“I was wrong—you’re not just an asshole,” I say, interrupting her because if I have to hear her say want to fuck her one more time, I might walk myself into traffic. “You’re a meddlesome asshole. A tiny , meddlesome asshole, you know that, right?”
“I think you mean agent of chaos .” With another sweet smile, Tess turns away from me to look at the trio of women clustered together on the other side of my shop while they ooo and ahhh over the tattoo I inked into the space right above Maeve’s left hip. “Kaitlyn, Went’s ready—come get your tattoo.”