Confusion.
Anger.
Delight.
Questions.
So many questions.
Why did he have Callum?
Was he hurt?
Did he miss me?
“Did he miss me?” Fucking hell, Rachel, you've gone soft.
Okay, now I was just straight up throwing myself mixed signals. I needed my bed.
This wasn’t like me, and it was more than a little overwhelming. My instinct was to retreat back into blank mode, and tuck every emotion into a tiny box in my mind that I would never open again. But I didn’t want to be that woman anymore. Being blank and unfeeling was no way to live. I was determined to be honest with myself.
It's just I didn't know how to handle such a flood of different feelings, and so, rather than voicing any of the things I was feeling, I instead said the first dumb thing that came to mind. “I see being kidnapped hasn't improved your language. Swearing shows a lack of intelligence.”
He shot me a feral look. I could practically feel my insides smirking with delight. “Do you know what else shows a lack of intelligence?” He all but growled at me.
“I don’t, no. But you love the sound of your own voice, so I'm sure you're about to tell me.”
“Cool it,” Vienna hissed down my ear before opening the boot of the car to shove Callum inside.
“It shows a lack of intelligence to piss off a man who is quite clearly at the end of his bastard tether.”
“Well, first of all, I never claimed to have intelligence. And second, I'm not trying to piss you off—”
“Oh, I know. It comes easily to you.”
“Thank you. I'm flattered. Anyway, I was simply making an observation about your colourful language. It's called education.”
“The last time you educated me I lost my favourite leather jacket.”
“Don't bring up ancient history to hold it over me in a present argument.”
“Get in the fucking car or get in the boot with Callum.”
I raised my eyebrow at him and stayed exactly where I was. “Please.”
“Excuse me?” He spluttered, slamming the boot shut.
“‘Get in the car,’ please,” I mimicked, folding my arms and throwing my head back in defiance.
“I don't have time for this,” he came at me, picked me up by my waist and all but threw me onto the backseat. I landed onmy stomach, my breath expelling in a painful huff, and I just about managed to drag my feet out of the way before he sent the door flying shut with far more force than was necessary. “Asshole,” I hissed under my breath, watching as Dante pulled out his phone.
“Are you fucking braindead, woman?” Vienna asked as he got in the car, shooting me a concerned look through the rear-view mirror.
“You're all too sensitive. I was only playing.”
“There's a time for playing, and there's a time for keeping your idiotic mouth shut. This was the time to keep your—”
“Idiotic mouth shut, yeah, I got it,” I finished for him as Dante climbed in the car, hanging up the phone as he did so.
