Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel 2) - Page 60/114

“We need to get going, Munchkin.”

For a moment she simply sat there trying to make sense of everything. She tried to figure out how she’d gone from a three a.m. meeting to ha**ng s*x with a guy she didn’t particularly like, but couldn’t stop craving on top of a car in the middle of an abandoned parking lot. Her life had never been exactly normal, but this was ridiculous.

“Get in the car, Munchkin. We need to go now,” Chris snapped irritably as he pulled on a gray tee shirt.

Weren’t men supposed to be mellow after sex? Or maybe this was just the way men acted after ha**ng s*x with her, she thought bitterly as she pulled her shirt on. She’d had sex with three men in her life and not once had any of them cuddled her, kissed her, or told her how much she meant to them afterwards.

No, instead she got complaints, dirty looks and a whole hell of a lot of drama. She was so sick of being treated like garbage and a walking disappointed. There wasn’t a single person in her life who’d ever been happy, truly happy with the person that she was.

Her parents never bothered to hide the fact that they wished her brother had been the one to survive the birth. Hell, every year on her birthday they made a huge cake for the child that would never be and somehow forgot about her. Christmas had been such joy in her house, a few meager gifts under the tree for her and five days of depression for her parents. Of course that was until she turned twelve and her parents felt she was old enough to watch herself for a few days while went away so that they wouldn’t have to be reminded of what would never be.

They went away so damn often that she doubted they figured out that she’d moved out at sixteen for a several months. Then again if they noticed she was gone she had no idea since they never came looking for her.

Stupidly she’d left an address where they could find her and even stayed in that rat trap hoping that they’d come looking for her. When it became painfully obvious that they weren’t going to she moved clear across the country without a look back.

From there she had to deal with people being pissed at her for not giving them her program, not taking jobs that were generously offered, but weren’t for her. Her friends, who stopped bothering with her when they realized what should have been more than obvious to anyone with two working eyes that she was exactly a social bug. Then there were the boyfriends who let her know that she came up short in the girlfriend department because she didn’t fawn over them, didn’t drop everything she was doing to be with them, and let her know in graphic detail how much of a disappointment she was in bed. But the kicker to the whole thing had to be Chris.

It was just so nice to know that the first guy she’d ever reacted to thought that she was weak and worthless.

Oh, and let’s not forget that the man thought she was a slut, an opinion that she probably confirmed by allowing him to screw her on the hood of a stolen car.

After the mind blowing sex they just had it was nice to know that he was back to being pissed at her. Actually, judging by the way he wouldn’t even look in her direction she would have to say that the man hated her more than ever now.

That was just great, she thought dryly.

Then of course there was the so-called claim that they were mates, married. Wasn’t it great to know that she was a disappointment to the man that she was meant to spend her life with?

Done with the rather depressing thoughts, having absolutely no control in her life and depending on someone who thought she was lower than dog shit, she finished buttoning her shirt, grabbed her bag, ignored the passenger door that Chris left open for her and headed for the road.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Chris demanded.

“Wherever I want,” she said, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. God help him if he so much as laid a finger on her right now. She was done with being thrown over his shoulder, her ass grabbed and told to move her ass.

“Get your ass back in the car, Munchkin. I don’t have time for this shit,” he snapped.

“Then get the hell out of here, Chris, because I’m done with you and this whole damn situation!” she yelled, hating herself even more than she thought was possible when her voice cracked at the end.

“Hold up,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her but she shook him off, more like jerked her arm out of his grip and kept going.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, stepping in front of her.

She stepped around him and kept going only to have him once again jump in front of her, but this time he simply walked backwards and shifted to the side when she tried to get away from him.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he demanded, easily keeping up with her and cutting her off when she tried to move past him.

“I’m leaving. That’s what’s going on,” she said, using the too long flannel sleeves to wipe away her tears and not giving a damn if crying made her even more pathetic in his eyes.

She was done with caring if she wasn’t what people expected or wanted. If they couldn’t accept her for the way that she was then they could all go to hell, especially the man who made it more than obvious that she wasn’t good enough for anything more than a quick f**k on the hood of a car.

“Why the hell are you crying?” he demanded.

Instead of answering him she hugged her bag tightly to her chest and ran past him before he knew what was going on. She needed to get away from him and this situation and figure this mess out for herself. She’d make damn sure not to bring it back to his family, but she couldn’t keep going like this. Being around someone who obviously hated her was more than she could stomach.

“I don’t think so, Munchkin,” Chris said as his arms came around her and she found herself lifted off the ground.

“Put me down!” she screamed, trying to kick and squirm her way out of his arms, but he simply tightened his hold and headed back towards the car, but she’d be damned if she was going to be thrown in a car and taken to god only knows where and treated like crap for one more damn minute.

“Calm the f**k down,” he snapped.

The hell with this, she thought when it became more than obvious that she wasn’t going to be able to fight her way to freedom, probably something that disgusted the jerk carrying her. She may not be able to fight, but she could damn well scream, and scream she did.

“Help! Someone help me! Help-” Her words ended in a muffle when he clamped a hand tightly over her mouth.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to calm down,” he said, ignoring her renewed struggles to get away from him. She tried to bite him, but he kept his hand cupped over her mouth in a way that prevented her from doing any real damage.