8. Daire

EIGHT

daire

I GLANCED AT the time. Almost midnight.

I’d been debating whether I wanted to go back out tonight, and the irritation that still chafed my insides all day was answer enough. I didn’t even know the source of the frustration, only that it was there, and I wanted it to get the fuck out.

So going back out it was.

Heading to the bar in the kitchen, I scanned the bottles of liquor and decided against the smooth vodka in favor of something that burned. No need for a shot glass—I took a couple of swallows of the cheap tequila straight from the bottle and closed my eyes as fire scorched my throat.

Perfect.

I stood there, relishing the feel as dead silence surrounded me. So damn quiet. I’d always enjoyed it before, but now it only meant one thing: Gavin wasn’t home.

When I opened my eyes, they landed on his closed bedroom door. He’d gone out with the actor prick he’d met on the yacht last night, and the fact that it’d been hours and he was still gone meant it was probably going well.

It was annoying as shit that I even cared that he kept dating these losers. He was better off alone. Like me. ’Cause I was such a fucking joy to be around.

Tearing my eyes away, I set the bottle back on the bar and headed to my room to change. Already I could feel the heat from the tequila warming my body, getting me ready for what was ahead. The cheap shit always gave me a headache the next day, but it served its purpose for now. East would have a shit fit if he knew I kept a bottle worth under a hundred bucks in my apartment. Next time he was over, I’d have to offer him a glass so he could stroke out.

I pulled off my shirt and pants, tossing them in the direction of the hamper and not caring that I missed. Then I threw on a worn pair of jeans and rummaged through my drawers for something I didn’t care about fucking up.

The sound of the front door opening and shutting had me pausing. I didn’t hear the sound of laughter or voices, which meant Gavin hadn’t brought the guy home with him. Unless he was just a really quiet one, and if that were the case, I felt sorry for Gavin.

I yanked a faded shirt from the drawer as a knock sounded on my door.

That was a first. We barely talked anymore, and now he was venturing over to my side of the house?

“What?” I said, shoving the drawer shut with my hip.

The door opened suddenly, and I spun around to see Gavin standing there, still perfectly put together in a grey blazer that matched his eyes. His gaze traveled over my half-naked body, and the moment his eyes widened, I knew exactly what he was seeing.

“Did I say come in?” I snapped, throwing on the shirt.

“I…” Gavin swallowed and then looked up at me. “I just got home and… Wait, are you going out? Now?”

“That a problem?”

“Well…no. I just thought⁠—”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gavin shook his head and turned as though he were about to leave but then stopped suddenly and looked back at me. “Why do you do that?”

Here we fucking go. “Do what?”

“Act like such a dick. You said the other night I was being defensive—well, who do you think I learned that from?”

I grabbed my key card, my phone, and my cigarettes, shoving them deep in my pocket. To hell with anything else. This was the last thing I’d wanted tonight, to go head to head with Gavin. But it seemed he was hellbent on giving me a piece of his mind.

“I’ve been trying to get us back on some kind of common ground this past week, and you’re making it impossible.”

I crossed over to my door and stopped opposite him. But in true Gavin form, he didn’t back down. Not from my glare, not from my towering over him. No, that brave fucker angled his chin up a fraction higher and all but dared me to give it my best shot.

It was impressive, really. If I was the type to be impressed.

“You ever heard of an apology?”

Gavin blinked as I crossed my arms.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” I shoved past him and through the living room.

“An apology? For what?”

There weren’t too many people in this world that I bothered with, and even fewer that I cared about. But Gavin was one of them. So if he wanted an explanation, he was gonna fucking get one.

I looked back at where he stood in the middle of our living room. “How about for punishing me for the last few months when I did you a goddamn favor?”

“A favor?” Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You’re talking about Joey?”

My glare must’ve been answer enough, because he scoffed and took a step toward me.

“You practically broke his face.”

“Just his nose.” My lip curled at the side as I remembered the satisfying crunch when I landed that punch. “And you should be thanking me for that.”

“Thanking you?” Gavin shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. “Oh, we’re gonna have this out now? How about I specifically asked you not to do anything to him. Not to make matters worse. And what did you do? You beat the hell out of him. I asked you not to touch him, and you promised me you wouldn’t.”

I strode across the space separating us until we were toe to toe, and Gavin had to angle his head back to meet my stare.

“I promised not to kill him,” I growled. “And I didn’t. Something I regret every time I think about him touching you. Now, are we done?”

Gavin’s pale pink lips parted. “Daire, I⁠—”

“Are we done?” My voice was low, a dangerous kind of contained fury that even Gavin seemed to recognize. The frustration gnawing at me was enhanced by the blinding rage I felt whenever I thought of that ass-face Joey laying his hands on Gavin.

“Y…yeah, okay, we’re done.”

“Good.” I spun around and stormed out of the apartment, needing to get away from him. I didn’t want Gavin to see this side of me, didn’t want to take my frustration out on him. But tonight he wouldn’t let it go. He’d just kept pushing and pushing until I snapped.

He wanted us to go back to “normal”? So did I. But the only way we could do that was if he stopped punishing me for doing what needed to be done that night. Joey had deserved every single blow I’d landed to his stupid, smug face. In my opinion, he’d deserved more. And the only reason I’d been able to stop myself was the promise I made to Gavin.

So to hear him tell me I’d broken that fired me up even more.

I slammed the front door shut and swiped my key card under the elevator pad, and marched inside the second the doors opened. Instead of heading to the lobby, I keyed in the basement.

As the elevator began its descent, I leaned back against the wall and pictured Gavin as I’d left him standing in our living room. That platinum-blond hair, those pale eyes and lips—he was like some sort of ethereal being, and here I was, all dark and fucking twisted, taking my shit out on him.

If there was a hell, I was going there.

Maybe that was why the elevator ride down forty-plus levels felt like I was coming home. When the car stopped on the basement floor, I stepped out into the storage rooms and cages.

I glanced around the dimly lit space, making sure no one else was around, which was kind of a joke. Most of the storage spaces down here were empty. The residents of the Towers were not the sort of people to venture down into a basement for anything, let alone a piece of furniture or sporting equipment.

Why would they when they had a state-of-the-art gym upstairs with a pool overlooking Park Avenue? Worked for me, since this was the best way to keep my extracurricular activities a secret.

I weaved down several aisles toward the back of the floor, and when I reached the door that had DANGER: DO NOT EXIT on it, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was following.

When I was satisfied the coast was clear, I pushed through the door, and cold, damp air smacked me in the face as I stepped out of the illustrious Waldorf Towers and into a world where I actually belonged.