Devil's Despair: Travis's Stand Part 18

"What?"

"If you want to."

"Yeah," she answers and heads in the opposite direction and into my room.

For the rest of the night I lie beside her, my front against her back, and hold her to me as she rocks us both to sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Sarah PULLING UP TO the apartment, I spot Trav's Jeep in its usual place. Ellie, however, has parked her yellow VW bug in mine.

She's inside my house and I'm p.i.s.sed.

When I walk in, I see them both sitting in the living room. Trav's dressed in a Devil's Despair tee and a pair of worn dark blue jeans. She's in her nursing uniform so I'm a.s.suming she stopped by on her way home from work.

I swallow the pang of heartache, remembering the gentle care she always gave to Bean.

Travis turns to look at me and a small smirk makes its way to his lips. Ellie's face goes blank at my arrival. The room feels small and I feel as though I'm not wanted in my own house.

"Sarah," she greets, clearing her throat.

"Ellie," I return in the same sullen tone.

"Your dinner is in the fridge," Trav informs me casually. "I made it."

The shock of Travis making dinner wins out over my insecurities overseeing the two of them together. "You made dinner?"

"Yep," he replies with a full smile, although the cut on his lip still looks angry.

"What'd you make?"

"Mac-n-cheese."

My f.u.c.king favorite.

Ellie starts to stand and when she does, Trav moves to his feet as well. Feeling the need to get out their presence, I pa.s.s them and make my way into my room to change. I smell like leftovers from the restaurant.

As I close the door behind me, I again swallow my emotions. Travis has Ellie in our apartment, he's in a good mood, and he's made me dinner. The only thought racing through my mind is that he's done this to ease my heartache in knowing he's changed his mind. Maybe his reaction to Devon caused him to rethink what we're doing.

I hear the small voices echoing off the walls. The front door opens and then there's nothing but silence. I'm not sure if Travis left with her or not. My heart hurts too much to dwell on it for long and thankfully I don't have to.

Just as I'm finished changing, I hear a soft knock on my bedroom door. I stand from the bed, straighten Trav's s.h.i.+rt, and open it. I don't chance a look at him. Using my hands, I press his chest to get him out of the way.

Grabbing my wrists, he stops me. "What are you doin?" he asks quietly, his voice somewhat nervous.

Ignoring his question and still avoiding his eyes, I rip my wrists from his hold and slip past him through the door and make my way to the kitchen. He doesn't say anything as he comes in and stands at the mouth of the hall, leaning his broad body against the wall. Even with a cut lip and faintly bruised face he has the audacity to look confident.

"Sarah?" he calls out, but I ignore him. My blood is starting to boil.

I hear him moving toward me from behind as I pop the dish from the fridge to the microwave and start it. I'm tired, hungry, hurt, and p.i.s.sed. This isn't a good combination for anyone, but add the fact it's happening to me, and it furthers my rus.h.i.+ng anger.

Turning around and bracing my hands on the counter, I pin Travis with a "don't f.u.c.k with me" look. His eyes grow wide in response and his eyebrows lift in question.

"So you're done with me?" I ask tersely, starting an argument that I already know can't end well. "'Cause it seems you changed your mind pretty f.u.c.king quickly."

His neck pulls back and his wide eyes start to narrow. He looks as though I've physically struck him.

"What?"

"You're done with me," I answer my own question. "What the f.u.c.k was all this until now?"

"Sarah, stop." He shakes his head and looks down.

"You're a f.u.c.king a.s.shole."

"Stop," he says again, this time louder and with more irritation. "Calm the f.u.c.k down."

After pulling the food out of the microwave, I take one look at it and lose my appet.i.te. I throw it in the sink and hear the dish shatter with the force I used.

"Sarah!" he calls, but I ignore him. Grabbing me around my waist, he pulls me close. My body is shaking with anger and fear. "Why was Ellie here?" I ask.

"Sarah."

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it. I'm an idiot!" I pull from him and brace my back against the counter; my hands clutch the edges at either side.

"You're not."

"Why was she here? I don't want her here! If you want to be with her, okay! But wait 'til I'm f.u.c.king gone!"

"Sarah," he says my name again. This tone is the one he uses to calm me.

"Stop saying my f.u.c.king name!"

Trav's voice is level, completely opposite to how I hear my own. "G.o.d, you make me f.u.c.kin' crazy, woman."

"You've f.u.c.king said that before," I sharply return.

Walking to me, I watch his body tense. If he's about to break bad news, I decide then that I don't want to hear it.

Pus.h.i.+ng off the counter, I hate that I have to get past him to get to my room. I have no other choice. His large frame stops me before I can escape the kitchen.

"Don't walk away from me."

"I'm not," I lie.

"Really? 'Cause I'm feelin' like I'm about to get another view of your a.s.s as it walks out."

"What was she doing here?"

"Bench that, we'll get to it in a minute," he says, his eyes smiling. "You're jealous."

My blood, already hot and boiling, flows through my body in a fury of added anger. Turning, I grab the first thing I see and send it flying into the air beside us. The coffee pot, thankfully empty, hits the wall with a loud crash.

Travis doesn't even flinch.

"You're impossible," he states, watching me stew in my anger. "And you're really f.u.c.kin' jealous."

I seethe, wondering how I am supposed to answer his accusation. "I'm not jealous. You're an a.s.s, she can have you."

I push past him; this time he allows it, and I head into my room for a few minutes alone.

Travis That didn't go as I had expected. Welcome to what my relations.h.i.+p with Sarah will be like.

Maddening as f.u.c.k.

Ellie took the news of the breakup hard. A few times she pleaded her case, that she was exactly what I needed, citing she could take care of me. She said she understood my past, but truly she has no idea. Only a few people do, and even those who think they know don't truly understand.

Her accusation about Sarah living with me p.i.s.sed me the f.u.c.k off. She tried to explain her version of Sarah's crush and it took great effort on my part to keep seated and not throw her out.

Obviously Ellie has a jealous side that I'd not recognized until tonight. I didn't care for it.

Right now, hearing Sarah in her room tearing through s.h.i.+t, I'm forced to smile. Now, she is jealous, but it's a different type of jealousy. Sarah doesn't have it in her to attempt to brand me as hers. I don't think she wants that anyway, but her eyes were angry and I knew why.

She thought Ellie was here for a different reason.

After I've cleaned up the majority of Sarah's ridiculous fit, I grab two beers from the fridge and make my way to Sarah's room. I don't bother knocking.

When I open the door, I see her sitting on her bed, legs crossed with a pillow on her lap. She's not crying, but she may as well be. Her face is bright red and angry.

Her head lifts and her eyes meet mine and I'll admit I almost turn around and walk away. She's f.u.c.king furious.

I'm an a.s.shole, but her fury ignites me. Being the one to calm her, quiet her, tame her, affects me in a way I'm not sure it should.

"Get out," she snaps even before I enter.

"No."

"Get the f.u.c.k out of here!"

"Got anything left to throw at me?" I ask, trying to hide my smile in regards to her crazy, mad way of releasing anger.

"f.u.c.k you," she hisses back and starts on a rant but as a sign of peace I lift the beer bottle I brought her and walk to her slowly. She could use a drink.

Her eyes light up when I stretch my arm to offer her one. "You're not gonna throw this at me, are you?"

"f.u.c.k, that would hurt, wouldn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then I might but since you're giving me beer, I'll drink it first then decide."

"Drink it slow," I demand. Sarah's difficult enough to handle sober; add too much alcohol and she's nearly impossible. Believe me, I'd know.

Resting my a.s.s on her dresser, I set my beer down and brace my arms at my sides and cross my ankles. She doesn't look at me, but takes a few drinks and exhales with calm relief.

"Sarah."

Her eyes close and she sighs her words. "When you say my name like that I know you're trying to calm me."

"I'm always trying to calm you, aren't I?"

Opening her eyes and looking directly at me she answers, "Yeah. Women need to be mad sometimes, Travis. I want to be p.i.s.sed. Let me."

"You should channel that anger," I say. Her eyes hold mine, waiting for me to continue. "I mean, there are other ways to work out. And it's a f.u.c.k of a lot more fun than throwing s.h.i.+t."

"You're talking about having s.e.x with me right now? Are you serious?"

My voice lowers and I can't look away from her taut body, so full of anger . . . and jealousy.

"Very serious."

"Oh my G.o.d! You f.u.c.king p.i.s.s me off," she exclaims.

"You're p.i.s.sed off more than any women I know," I counter.

"You p.i.s.s me off more than any men I know," she returns.

"Always," I say to myself more than her, but she catches on and her eyes narrow, again.

"Do you have a point in being here?"

"I ended it with Ellie. It's done," I tell her. Her body jolts and she moves her eyes to mine; her features are marked with an unnamed expression, so I continue. "That's what you walked in on earlier."

She takes a breath. "That's why you smiled at me when I got here."

"Yes. I was happy to see you." I sigh. "Until you went f.u.c.king nuts."

"That's why you weren't sitting with her on the couch."