Wanting Shaw (Rockers' Legacy Book 5) - Page 65

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded, unable to stop my own tears from flooding from my eyes any longer. “I’ll call Cannon right now and tell him he can’t move in.”

“Don’t bother.” Opening the door, she stepped through. “Enjoy your life with my brother. I’m sure you picked the right Cage to spend it with.”

“Shaw!” I roared her name, running after her, not caring if my neighbors heard us or not. “I choose you.”

“You have never chosen me.” She reached the elevator and punched the call button. “I can see now that you never will. For a second, I had hope, but that was just wishful thinking.”

“I love you.”

“Maybe you do.” She mused as the elevator doors glided open. “But not enough to put me first over Cannon.”

My anger over her fear and Cannon sabotaging my relationship with his sister made me say something I regretted as soon as the words left my mouth. “If you loved me, you would fight for us.”

Her sharp inhale was so full of pain it nearly buckled my knees, but it was nothing to the verbal punch to the stomach she tossed back at me. “Then I guess I don’t love you after all.”

Pain exploded inside me like a bomb detonating, obliterating my heart. My lungs stopped working, and I just stood there, unable to move as the doors silently slid shut.

She was gone.

I lost her.

Chapter 28

Shaw

I glared at my television and threw a handful of popcorn at the screen. “Stupid dumbass boys,” I hissed. “Every fucking one of them.” I scooped up more popcorn and was hurling it at the leading guy when the camera zoomed in on him, just as my bedroom door opened, causing some of the salty, buttery snack to hit Violet in the face since my flat scree

n was mounted on the wall by the door.

She screamed at the unexpected assault and swatted her hand in an attempt to protect herself. Once she was sure she was safe, she closed the door and turned to glare at me with her hands on her hips. “You look like shit.”

I shrugged and stuffed my face full of M&M’s and popcorn. I knew what I looked like. I’d seen myself in the mirror that morning. There was a zit on my forehead and another on my chin. My skin was dry and yet oily because I hadn’t done my skincare regimen in days, and my hair hadn’t been washed in just as long.

It was Saturday. I should have been in Chicago two days before, but I’d told my new agent Gina to tell the client I was sick and to get someone else.

I didn’t care about what I looked like. I didn’t care if I didn’t get another job as a model. I just wanted to curl into a ball and forget about anything outside of my bedroom walls.

Violet’s purple eyes scanned my room, taking in the diet soda cans on my nightstand and the floor beside my bed. The empty ice cream containers, the can of Reddi-Wip that I’d had for dinner the night before, the bags of chips and cookies with only crumbs left in them, and the popcorn and M&M’s on the floor from where I’d been taking my anger out on the stupid breakup movies I’d tortured myself watching since Monday afternoon. That was when I’d woken up from the sixteen-hour coma I’d fallen into after crying myself to sleep Sunday night.

“Be honest with me,” she said as she gave a disgusted sniff and covered her nose with her hand. Huh, I must have gone nose blind because I didn’t smell anything. “Was I this gross after I broke up with Luca?”

“No. You became a zombie, and then you started putting your tongue down the throat of every guy who looked at you.” I picked up an open can of diet soda, gave a small cheer when I found it was still about a third full, and chugged it to wash down the food in my mouth. “Oh, and don’t let me forget about the booze. You were starting to turn into a drunk. I was really worried about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I was all kinds of self-destructive.” She lifted her shirt to use as a mask for the bottom half of her face and then stomped over to my bed. “Get up. You need a shower.”

“Don’t wanna shower,” I whined and hugged one of my pillows to my chest. “I’m fine where I am. You don’t like the way I smell, then go away.”

She rolled her eyes and stomped to the door. My heart sank that she was leaving, but I refused to let my chin tremble as I grabbed another handful of sweet and salty.

Not a full minute passed before the door swung inward again and Violet returned, but this time with my brother in tow. I barely had time to glare at the asshole before he was bending and slinging me over his shoulder as he carried me into my bathroom. “Fuck, you stink,” he complained as he stood waiting for Violet to turn on the shower and the water to warm up.

My shock was slow to wear off, but once it did, I started punching him in both kidneys, making him shout in pain, but he didn’t put me down. “What are you even doing here, you fucking asshole?” I snarled. “Shouldn’t you be in LA with your dickhead best friend?”

“Decided not to move in with Jagger after all,” Cannon said with a shrug. “Figured you wouldn’t like it very much. Violet said I was getting between you and Jags, so I figured I’d get out of your way.”

“Oh, so now you care about my feelings?” I snorted and kicked my leg. When I connected with his groin and he nearly dropped me, I felt a sick sense of satisfaction. I hoped Mom didn’t expect grandkids from Cannon, because I might have just ended that dream for her.

“For fuck’s sake,” he wheezed in agony, setting me on my feet. But he held on to my arms, whether it was because he didn’t want me to run off or he needed me to keep him upright, I wasn’t sure.

Tags: Terri Anne Browning Rockers' Legacy Romance
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