Snapdragon: Tiny Threads Part 26

I let go of Lana and fell into Tara's arms. She whispered in my ear, but I didn't hear a word. I couldn't tear my gaze away from Royal and the fury in his eyes.

"What the f.u.c.k do you think you're doing?" he hissed. He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the hallway and pushed me against the wall.

His gaze lowered, and it was as if a spell had been broken. I lost it.

"Oh my G.o.d," I cried. "Benji! Where is he?" I sobbed.

He pulled me against his chest and kissed the top of my head. "Jesus Christ, Jenna. What the h.e.l.l has gotten into you?"

"Take me to him," I murmured into his chest, distinctly ignoring his question. I truly had no idea what was wrong with me. I was crazy. My entire life had turned on its a.s.s, and I had no navigation out of the f.u.c.ked up situation.

"Come on. He's down here." He started to lead me down the corridor when Lana's voice reverberated from behind us.

"Royal," she whined pathetically.

His whole body tensed, and I heard a soft growl rumble in his chest. Turning slightly, taking me with him, he faced her. "Look, Lana, you need to take off. Abbie will call to reschedule with you. I need to take care of my family here. Work can wait," he said flatly.

"But," she started, taking a few steps toward us.

He clenched his teeth and the muscles of his jaw quivered. He was losing his temper, and that was never pretty.

"Beat it, Lana. Abbie will call you later."

With that, he turned us around and continued to walk down the hallway. We didn't talk, but I could feel the tension rolling off him. He was angry with me, but the feeling went both ways. He'd obviously missed Lana's horrible comments, and it reminded me so much of the past. The woman was an evil snake with the ability to manipulate him constantly.

"Oh, Bubba!" I cried. He looked so pitiful in that little hospital bed. He had a bandage wrapped haphazardly around his head, and his arm lay limply at his side, saddled down in a small splint.

"What happened?" I kneeled on the floor and brushed my fingers along his cheek.

"Derek pushed me off the climber. I was all the way up."

I laid my forehead against his good hand and cried. I was so grateful it hadn't been worse, but my heart was still broken.

"Don't cry, Mommy," he said softly. "I'm gonna get a cast, and Daddy said I can get a blue one."

My eyes shot up to Royal for confirmation. "He broke his arm?"

He nodded, giving me a soft smile before looking back at Benji. "He did. They said it's not too bad, but he broke it."

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry you got hurt. How's your head? Does it hurt? Do you have a b.u.mp? A bruise?" I stood swiftly so I could get a better look at his head.

"He's got a good sized b.u.mp, but it's not too bad. The doctor wants to do an X-Ray just to be sure, but he's had worse. He's a big boy. He's fine." Royal shot Benji a small wink and looked back at me. "I'm going to check with the nurse to see how long it will be before he has the X-Ray. We're looking at another hour before he sees the orthopedic surgeon."

"My poor baby boy," I cooed, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"I'm not a baby, Mommy! Gosh," he groaned.

I heard Royal chuckle before he leaned down and kissed Benji on the cheek. "Of course you're not, little man. I'll be right back. Mommy will be right here."

He nodded at me once before disappearing behind the door and into the hall. I pulled a stool over to the bed and sat down next to Benji.

"So, was the ambulance scary? Mommy is so sorry I wasn't there." I felt a tear fall from my eye and run down my face. I swatted at it quickly so he didn't see it.

"It was cool, Mommy! The fireman guy told me I was a tough kid."

I giggled and squeezed his hand. "You are a tough boy. I'm proud of you for being so brave."

Royal came back into the room a few minutes later and asked me to step in the hall with him.

He paced back and forth in front of me, fisting his hair and mumbling to himself. I couldn't help it. I started to cry again.

"I'm so sorry I turned off the phone. Don't be mad," I rambled.

He turned, eyes wide and moved in front of me. "I'm not mad at you, Jenna!"

He pulled me into his arms and sighed. "I'm not mad. I was worried. I've never seen you so mad. You could've gotten hurt!"

I shook my head and cried into his s.h.i.+rt. "She told the nurse she was family. That's my baby in there! Mine!"

"She said what?" He held my arms and pushed me back so he could look at me. "She's a f.u.c.king moron, Jenna. Just ignore her."

"I really hate her," I sniffed.

He chuckled. "I don't like her much either."

Chapter 18.

I didn't even remember getting into Royal's truck. I knew I was drunk, and I knew I was p.i.s.sed off, but everything else about the night blurred in the back of my consciousness. I held my head and groaned.

"If you're going to be sick, let me know so I can pull over," he said tightly before turning back onto the highway.

I turned away from him and faced the window. "Why'd you even come?" I hissed.

He shook his head. "You were making an a.s.s of yourself. Palmer called me to come get you."

"You're an a.s.s!"

He gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sped up. When I noticed he was pulling off the freeway toward our neighborhood, I slapped my hands against the dashboard.

"Stop!"

"You getting sick?"

I shook my head. "No. I want a shake. Stop there," I said, pointing at a burger place across the way.

He pulled into the parking lot and veered into the drive through. The sudden motion turned my stomach, but I held my breath. In front of us, there were six cars waiting, and I wasn't in any shape to sit there and wait.

"Forget it. I'll just go inside."

I unfastened my seatbelt and started to open the door, but he grabbed my arm. "What are you doing? Stop! You can't go in there, Jenna."

"What is your problem? I don't want to wait." The air felt stagnant, too thick to breath, but I wasn't going to listen to him tell me what to do-not after what he'd done.

"Jenna, you're drunk. The kids over there go to school with the girls. I don't think you want them to see you like that."

I scowled. "Like what, huh? Tell me what I look like."

He put the truck in park and leaned toward me, tugging on my arm again. "You look trashy, and it's not like you. Why are you even dressed like that?"

Because of Abbie. But I wasn't telling him that.

I smiled and let out a hysterical laugh. "Maybe I don't want to be me anymore. No one else seems to think it's enough."

"Shut your mouth. Don't talk like that," he growled.

I tried to get out of his grip, but he was too strong. He grabbed my other arm and dragged me back into the truck and locked the doors.

"Look, you're drunk. I haven't seen you drunk in ten years, and I have to tell you-you're a s.h.i.+tty drunk. Sit down, shut the h.e.l.l up, and let me get you home."

We made it to the window, thankfully in silence. He ordered a chocolate shake for me and a burger and fries for both of us. Just the thought of food made me want to puke.

"I'm not hungry," I grumbled.

"Tough s.h.i.+t. You need to eat something, and you've given me a headache with your drunken jabbering."

I huffed. "You should've left me there if you didn't want to hear me talk, jerk. You never want to hear what I have to say anyway," I babbled.

"Not right now I don't. I can't wait for you to pa.s.s out and shut the f.u.c.k up."

I felt awful, and yeah, I was being hateful, so I shut my mouth and waited until we got to the house. The house was dark, which either meant the girls were already asleep or still out for the night.

Royal parked out front, turned off the car and then turned to face me.

"Where are the girls?"

I groaned and s.h.i.+elded my eyes when the headlamp came on. "I don't know. Out, or, I don't know. Ugh, turn that off. Bright lights! Bright lights!"

I started giggling at my stupid joke and then groaned again. It was still way too bright. My head pounded.

"You're a mess," he said with a smile in his voice. "You need to keep it down so we don't wake the neighbors. Use your inside voice."

I heaved myself out of the seat and pushed at his hands as he tried to help me. "I can do it...move!"

I rolled over and heard him laugh. I situated myself so I could fix my skirt and scowled at him.

"What? I like the view?"

I pulled it down and jumped down. I bet he liked the view-sadly, he'd had the same view for over twenty years and he didn't seem to have any reaction to it. That p.i.s.sed me off further, and I stomped toward the house with purpose.

"I can't believe you walked out of the house that way," he said as he jogged up behind me. "Your whole a.s.s is hanging out!"

Hardly. The skirt hit well past mid-thigh. "I know! I dressed myself, a.s.shole!"

"Where did you even get this?" he asked, snapping the strap of my tank top.

I stopped and looked down at my chest and smirked. "I took it out of Macy's closet."

I turned to walk away again, but he grabbed my elbow and growled in my face. "Well, you look like you're trying to get f.u.c.ked."

I narrowed my eyes. "Maybe I want to get f.u.c.ked."

His eyes went red, and he dragged me up against his chest. "That's what you want? To get f.u.c.ked, Jenna? Is that what this is all about?"

I stared at him, my chest heaving and my eyes heavy. "I hate you," I spat.

He jumped back away from me, his face washed with shock and devastation. "What are you trying to prove, dressing up like this and going to a bar? You wanted to p.i.s.s me off? Done. You wanted to make me jealous? You did that too, but this has to stop!"

I felt wild, like a rubber band pulled too tight. I swung out of his grasp, and turned on him, hitting and kicking at him with all I had. He'd destroyed me. Obliterated every spec of security and comfort I knew. His judgement and petty jabs were too much.

"I hate you! You ruined my life and I f.u.c.king hate you!"

I continued hitting him, each punch more like popcorn spit from a steam pot than an actual jab. He finally grabbed my wrists and held them between us, ending my unwinnable fight.

"Stop. Stop hitting me, and calm down, Jenna."

There was no calm at that moment, only panic and desperation. I twisted out of his grasp, slipped on the gra.s.s, and landed on my bare knees. Purely out of spite, I picked myself up and ran to the door with him hot on my heels.

I turned and glared at him. "You forgot dinner! You always forget everything!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I thought dinner was tomorrow? Settle the f.u.c.k down!"

"I want a divorce!" I yelled "You don't love me, you f.u.c.king lie to me, and you lie, lie, lie, lie, so she can just have you!"

He flinched back like I'd struck him. His mouth hung open, and he shook his head but he said nothing. Not a word.

"You're wasted," he whispered finally. His voice was hoa.r.s.e, like the words burned his throat. "You don't know what you're saying. We're not-you know, if this is about Lana again, you're crazy as s.h.i.+t. You f.u.c.king heard me tell her to f.u.c.k off. Just come with me in the house, Jenna. Don't say another word. Please."

I shook my head and then grabbed at my skull with both hands. It felt like a baby rattle. I couldn't stand talking to him anymore. I just wanted him gone.

"Yeah, drop me off so you can go back to her, is that it? Why don't you take me back to the bar since you're obviously not going to f.u.c.k me? Or, can't, right? I'm not what turns you on anymore, even when I'm dressed to get f.u.c.ked," I spit.