Page 6 of Love Hate

“Really?” I asked softly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a public library, Princess,” he reminded me. “I can sit wherever I want.”

I sighed again, shaking my head as I pulled my book closer and started reading again, forcing myself to keep my gaze on the book and not let it drift up to the hulking figure across from me, pretending to be engrossed in…

“Faulkner?” I asked him, unable to keep the surprise from my tone.

“What?” he challenged, glancing up over his book. “You didn’t think I could read?”

“Actually, no,” I admitted. “But that book makes a lot of sense for you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re very much like Anse,” I told him, wondering if he’d understand the reference. Because while I knew that Trevor could, actually, read, the southern gothic style of Faulkner’s writing seemed like something the man might struggle with. Hell, lots of people struggled with it.

He stared at me, his jaw clenching. He may not have completely understood the insult, but he knew me well enough to know that I certainly hadn’t complimented him.

“Is that some fucked up way of telling me you want to call me Daddy?” he asked after a moment, his book falling from his hands to the table again.

“No.” Well, he knew Anse was the father, so that was something. “Do you mind? I’m trying to study.”

“Am I distracting you?”

“Yes.” I glared across the table at him. “Because, as usual, you won’t shut up.”

“Come on,” he said lightly. “Weren’t you the one who told me it was time to grow up?”

“Somehow I don’t think you’re looking to become besties,” I shot back.

“Certainly not,” he assured me. “In fact, I feel like you showing up here is a real opportunity for me to up my game.”

Jesus fuck.

Father forgive my language.

“Or,” I suggested slowly. “We could just stay away from each other.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he said, a smirk spreading over his face as he reached out and cupped my jaw in his palm. “Not with you walking around with such a punchable fucking face.” He stood up as he pulled his hand back and grabbed his book. “See you around, Princess.”

I watched him stalk off again, sauntering across the room and out the library doors. The moment they closed behind him I dropped my head onto my book, banging it a couple times before just resting there and closing my eyes.

This was going to be a nightmare.

Maybe if I told him that I was going to be a priest, he’d back off. No one wanted to be the guy who beat up a priest, right? Even Trevor Hix had to have a line he wouldn’t cross.

I sat back up and tried to focus on my book, but my mind kept drifting back to our conversation.

You want to call me, Daddy?

I definitely didn’t want that. Of anything I may have imagined happening between Trevor and me, that wasn’t something I’d ever even considered. I might get uncomfortably hard when he hit me, when he shoved me, when he said terrible things about me, but I didn’t have daddy issues.

So I guess I had that going for me.

My therapist and my sister both believed that my arousal stemmed from unresolved feelings for Trevor. Caitlyn wanted me to fuck it out. And my therapist just wanted me to stand up for myself.

But turn the other cheek was a big principle of my family…I mean my faith, and I didn’t believe that the bullying would stop just because I threw out an angry word, or a punch.

Of course, Dr. Therapy told me he thought I liked being turned on by the violence, and that by not standing up for myself I was inviting those feelings in.