Chapter 4

4

"Hayden?" I prompted when he didn't say anything.

"Quiet," he snapped.

I was sitting opposite of Hayden, my ass on the edge of one of the two papasan chairs that normally sat to the right of the couch in front of the window that had a bird's eye view of the pool and clubhouse. I'd dragged one in front of the TV so I could face him while I explained yesterday's doings before we left for lunch.

Now I was regretting telling him.

Hayden had never snapped at me.

But then I'd never shared with him I'd been caught up in a would-be robbery. Further from that, I'd never shared with him I'd been in a physical altercation, and that was only because before yesterday I'd never actually hit anyone. Moving on from that I'd never had the plastic shards from a broken bucket of margarita mix slice into me .

Yesterday's plan to use humor and dramatics to tell my story died a fiery death three sentences in when Hayden's eyes glittered with fury. It was then I'd changed tactics and gave him only the facts without commentary that would lead him to believe I was a badass heroine who took down the bad guy.

I did my best not to fidget in the silence but when Hayden broke eye contact and glanced down to my wringing hands in my lap I knew I failed miserably.

"You know," he started conversationally with a hint of disdain. "I blame your mother for this."

Of course he would. He blamed her for everything.

"Hay—"

"No, listen to me, Sophie. I'm serious."

He didn't just look serious—he looked ser- eee -ous.

Damn .

"I've been around your mom a lot, been around you longer. Knew you when you were with Oak and I was friends with him then, so I heard all about her before I met you. Pretty much the only thing I'll side with that douche on at this point is how he felt about your mom. She's cold. Not only that, she acts like you're an inconvenience while at the same time she inserts herself in your life in unhealthy ways. She has no respect for the boundaries of others but she'll butt her nose into whatever she wants. So, I get it, why you wouldn't call me while I was at work, tell me what happened. Because you knew I'd bag work and get my ass home to make sure you were okay. She taught you that. She taught you to make yourself small so you wouldn't bother her if she was otherwise occupied. That's not just fucked-up, that's the very definition of fucked-up."

I had nothing to say; he'd pretty much summed up my relationship with my mother. Which was another reason why Nathan marrying my mother was a crime against nature. They didn't fit. Not in the slightest. Something I never understood. Though since she'd gotten together with him she had changed—a little. So, as right as Hayden was, he didn't know she used to be worse. I didn't offer up an explanation for my mother's behavior, mainly because I never understood her or why she did and said the things she did.

"I'm pissed as shit," he went on. "That last night while I was working at the bar, slinging drinks, you were at home alone freaking out."

I hadn't told him I'd been freaking out. But he knew me, so it was a good guess.

"It also pisses me off you were attacked by an armed?—"

"I don't know that he was armed," I cut in. "I never actually saw a weapon, and after when I was questioned by the police they didn't say if he was or wasn't."

That got me a deep scowl.

Eek.

"The part that doesn't piss me off is that you kicked his ass."

Well, that was something.

"Don't get too excited, Soph. I'm back to pissed you didn't go to the hospital."

"It's a scratch. Delilah the Devil cleaned it and taped me up. I didn't even need superglue. Though I will admit sometime in the middle of the night it started to throb, then the rest of me started to ache and my calf muscles cramped so bad I now have to tell you you were right and I should've gone to the gym with you all the times you asked because…damn, I'm out of shape."

I took in a big breath and focused on my friend. "I was scared. Not during but after when I realized what had happened and how much danger I was in."

"Christ," he grunted.

"I actually think it was good it happened."

Hayden gave me an incredulous look that clearly said he didn't agree.

"It shook something loose," I rushed out. "When faced with the possibility of becoming a hostage with an uncertain ending I realized I didn't like my life all that much. And that's what spurred me on to attack. I didn't want to die thinking about how unhappy I was."

"Sweet—"

"I'm quitting my job on Monday," I announced. "You know I don't like it much; what you don't know is I hate it. My boss is an asshole. The women I work with are catty and grown-up mean girls and I only put up with it because I'm afraid if I stand up and state my opinion they won't be my friends."

"How exactly is Henry an asshole?" he asked .

Another reason to love my best friend. The dude was not only protective of me but had serious issues with men being assholes to women.

"The kind I can handle. He's a run-of-the-mill asshole who has to remind everyone he's the boss. And he has to do that because he sucks as a boss and no one respects him. I don't like the work I do, so quitting to rid myself of him isn't a problem. I have plenty of money saved so even if it takes me months to find something else I got my half of the bills covered."

Hayden's eyes narrowed into slits.

"I don't care about the money. And don't dip into your savings. I'll cover the bills until you get a new job."

That wasn't going to happen but right then I wasn't going to argue with him. Hayden and I lived together because we were both saving to buy houses. Though I figured Hayden might already have enough saved but he knew I didn't so he stayed living with me.

"I'm also going to…try new things," I went on. "And have a talk with Nathan. I'm not copping out; I just need his direction."

Hayden didn't look convinced Nathan would be able to lead me anywhere.

It wasn't so much that Hayden didn't like my stepfather. He did, but he was firmly on my side with the crime against nature that Nathan had married—then remained married to—my mother. Thus to Hayden, he was suspect or was with her for possible nefarious reasons—like he was a serial killer who needed a cover and a crazy, overbearing wife would do the trick.

"What new things will you be trying?"

"Well, I figured I'd start out small, like try a new brand of oatmeal."

"Pass," he denied. "There's only brown sugar Quaker Oats allowed in this house. Try again."

And he called me dramatic.

"Fine. I'll try the Indian place you're always begging me to try."

"Seriously?" He looked shocked.

"Yes," I pushed out because I wasn't sure if I was serious. But now that I said it I had to follow through.

My intestines were already forming a picket line.

"You're really okay?"

"Yeah, I'm really okay. I had my cry last night." I paused to suck in a lungful of oxygen and blew it out. "But, yeah, I'm good. I think I needed something to shake me up and get me to open my eyes. Nothing says ‘wake up' like a masked man yanking you to your feet by your hair."

Hayden frowned.

I smiled.

"Too soon?"

"Way too fucking soon," he groused. "But since you're already making jokes now seems as good as any to tell you to put your shoes on. We're getting Indian."

It was my turn to frown and his to smile .

"Don't worry, Huxley, we'll start you out with Tandoori Chicken and ease you in."

I wasn't sure I wanted to be eased into anything.

I wasn't even sure if I was ready to start my life as a tryer of new things.

"Rightyho, Winslow."

I was almost to the short hall that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms when he called my name and I looked back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Proud of you, Sophie."

Not for the first time I hoped Hayden found someone worthy of all the goodness he had to give.

"You know with my newfound badassery you should start warning your babes they should think twice about yanking your chain or they might get a beatdown."

"Right, Rambo Sophie. I'll be sure to warn them."

That meant I was smiling when I got to my bedroom door. It was also when the craziest thought popped into my head. I wondered what Valentine would think of the nickname Rambo Sophie. I bet he'd think it was funny.