Chapter 16
"So I'm supposed to lie to her and basically tell her that lying is acceptable because her older brother has no morals?" She responded
"Like you know anything about morals," I thought.
I knew I could hit her right where it hurt, so I went for it.
"Shut your damn mouth, I have never been mean to you, I have simply reminded you of who you truly are. I know this little act you're putting on is a charade; I know the real you, the one I saw in LA." I exclaimed.
She sighed, almost sad and disappointed in herself. Her reaction surprised me; I expected her to scream back at me; I was perplexed; I thought I could hurt her, but I was mistaken.
"OK, Andrew, I'm not going to mention you to Dalia anymore." She stated that as she approached the door, she opened it and exited.
I was surprised by her reaction; she was pushing me, but when I pushed back, she retreated; what is this woman doing?
I was taken aback.
I couldn't figure out why she reacted like that for a few days; the first time I called her a whore, she thought I was crazy, but when I went further, she didn't react?
I was going insane and needed to get her off my mind. I knew she'd show up to work today, and I planned to observe her to figure out why she seemed unconcerned about what I'd said.
I drove to my mother's house and walked into the kitchen, eager to get the day over with. When I walked into the kitchen, I noticed Ava lifting her shirt, revealing a portion of her back.
"Stop undressing on my counter, whore," I yelled, hoping to elicit a response from her.
She turned around, and when I looked her in the eyes, she appeared to be in pain. I let my gaze fall to her exposed stomach. "Who hurt her?" my eyes widened. and suddenly became protective of her. I shake the thought from my mind, furious at myself for caring what happened to her.
I despised her so much that I wanted her dead, right?
"What in the world did you do?" I inquired.
"What exactly did I do? That's hilarious, Andrew." She responded
Who the hell did she think she was talking to?
"I don't mind at all." I growled.
"Oh no, this is because of you," she exclaimed, pointing to her bruise.
"Last time I checked, I never hit you; as much as I despise you, I don't hit women." However, you are making me reconsider." I said
I had never intended to hit her, but it was the only way I thought I could get her to stop talking. I had a rule against hitting women: if you're a grown man and I hit a woman, you're a total wimp.
"This was because of you and whatever you do for a living." She spit.
Curious, I raised an eyebrow. What information did she have about my job?
"Why are men following me around and attempting to beat me up because they believe I am your girl?" She inquired.
The thought of her being mine made my stomach turn. What was it about the thought of her being mine that had such an impact on me? I became enraged; no one should have that kind of power over me.
I approached her and grabbed my jaw.
"You're not my girl, and you mean nothing to me." I growled.
I saw her wince in pain but didn't care, but then I saw her terrified for half a second and it was gone as quickly as it came. I wanted her to be afraid of me, but when it happened, I vowed that it would never happen again.
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