Page 72 of There Once was a Dancer
I grunted. “So, my brothers have said.” I knew I was being rude, but I couldn’t help it. When he opened his mouth to say something, I held up a hand and cut him off. “Look, Biagi, we ain’t friends, so why don’t you just spit it out and tell me why you’re really here?”
His eyes widened and for a split second, I saw a flash of pity fill his eyes before they cleared. Nothing pissed me off more than pity, which is how all the hospital administrators behaved whenever they came into the room to talk to me about VA benefits or needed me to sign something. My teammates never did that, possibly because most—if not all of them—had spent some time recovering from injuries earned on various missions. They knew the drill.
I’d sent the hospital social worker out of the room nearly in tears when she’d come in to discuss my eventual discharge. She’d said the hospital was anxious to have a home health aide come over to bathe me and change my diapers, before I informed her I didn’t wear them and she could just fuck right off if she thought I needed them.
Biagi sat straighter in his chair, looking almost sorry for living. He cleared his throat a third time. “I went to see Cachi at the safehouse last night.”
I felt my face heat. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
He frowned. “Because we’re friends and I’ve known him for years, that’s why.”
“And?”
“And he wanted me to pass on a message to you.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling the blood drain from my face. “What’s the message?”
“He wanted me to tell you that he misses you.”
I searched his expression for lies but could find none. My heart pounded so hard in my chest, it took my breath away. Thinking about Cachi missing me was painful as hell, but I wasn’t about to show it. I didn’t want or need anyone to tell me that was the case. I was well aware that he was probably sittingat home mooning about me and feeling confused about the way I’d sent him away. I certainly didn’t need this virile, young man to tell me things like that. I was finally able to drag my gaze away from his, finding a spot on the wall behind him to stare at as I blanked my expression.
When he made scoffing noises, I looked back at him. The anger I found on his face wasn’t the expression I expected. “What?”
“You’re a real asshole, Monroe.”
I smirked…not in a nice way. “That’s what I’m told.” I waved my hands around the room. “It’s hard not to be an asshole when I’m constantly bein’ bugged by people who waltz on in here to tell me I am, right to my face.”
“Maybe you deserve it.”
“Bein’ told I’m an asshole? Because I don’t need that. I already know.”
He stood up then, reaching up to run a hand through his hair as he paced away. My gaze followed his movements, jealous that his long legs were strapped with rippling muscle, and strong. He walked over to the window, putting his hands on his hips as he looked toward our offices in the federal building which was only a couple of blocks away. The whole reason I avoided the window, was so that I wouldn’t be constantly reminded I’d probably never be able to return to work as a whole man again. My career along with my love life was gone, possibly forever, made even more evident with each passing day in this shitty place.
Biagi stood there taking deep breaths for several minutes as though he was trying to rein in whatever emotions he was feeling. I—for one—wished he’d have his breakdown somewhere else because the very last thing I needed was for him to come here with his overly sympathetic looks, bringing his pity partyalong with him. My body, however, didn’t allow me to simply stand up, go over to him, and toss his ass out.
“Okay, you done your duty. You gave me the message…now, is there anythin’ else?” I finally said.
He whirled around and stomped back to me. “I’m gonna leave. It was a mistake to come here. I just wanted you to know how miserable he was and how much he misses you, but I never should’ve come.”
I shook my head. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
He stood there staring at me open-mouthed. “You really don’t care how he’s feeling, do you?”
I couldn’t deny how terrible I felt about how Cachi was feeling, but this guy was the last person on earth I was prepared to admit it to. “Sure, I care.” I made a show of being deliberate when I shrugged. “But, there ain’t nothin’ between us now, so I ain’t sure what I’m supposed to do about it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, I felt really sorry this happened you, but seeing you like this, makes me rethink all of that.”
“I don’t need you feelin’ sorry for me, Biagi,” I said, trying not to shout. “And the last thing I need is for you to tell me how Cachi feels. He told me he loves me and I told him that’s the worst mistake he could make.”
He scoffed. “Because you don’t deserve him. He’s too goddamned good for you, you asshole.”
I felt rage filling me, and the urge to tackle him to the ground where I could pummel his face was stronger than it’d ever been. “I know he’s too good for me. That’s why I sent him away.” I waved at my legs. “What does Cachi know about bein’ in love with a damned cripple anyway?”
“Do you not even care that he’s hurting?” he bellowed.
I shook my head. “He shouldn’t.”
“Well, he is!”
