Christmas from Hell
Page 30

 
He simply flipped his brother off, fucking pissed that he’d been chased off before he could make things right, before he could explain things, apologize and most importantly, before he could grab his clothes.
 
Old man Dixon didn’t play around. So, he’d been forced to choose, stay there and make things right and lose his balls or get the hell out and live to apologize another day.
 
As he walked past his brother, ignoring the sharp-numbing pain shooting through his feet every time he took a step, he became more furious with Mr. Dixon. Not because he’d forced Duncan to leave before he could apologize, but because the bastard had forced him to leave when all he’d wanted to do was to take Necie in his arms, hold her and promise to do whatever it took to make her stop crying.
 
Seeing her like that, because of him had felt like someone had knocked him on the ass. He never should have opened his mouth, never should have said anything so fucking cruel to a woman like Necie, but he had and now he felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world and there was nothing that he could do about it, but wait for a chance to talk to her without old man Dixon around.
 
*-*-*-*
 
“Are you planning on coming out of your room tonight?”
 
“No,” she mumbled into her pillow as she lay there, wondering how she could be in this much pain and still be alive.
 
It hurt.
 
It felt like her heart had broken in two and she couldn’t help, but wonder how she could feel this way and still be alive. She’d never experienced anything like this before and she prayed that she never did again. She’d lost her virginity to a man she’d thought she was in love with only to realize that she’d been nothing more than a way to pass the time.
 
“So, you’re planning on staying in there all night feeling sorry for yourself?” her grandfather asked, earning a murderous glare in the direction of where she was pretty sure the door was, but since she’d shut off all the lights so that her room matched her mood, she could have been glaring anywhere.
 
“Yes!” she snapped, offended that he was mocking her pain.
 
“I see,” he murmured, sounding thoughtful. “Then you’re fine if I order from Black Jack’s?” he asked, sounding hopeful and making her glare all the more.
 
“Not unless you’re willing to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life!” she snapped, deciding that if she was going to be miserable, then so was he.
 
It was only fair after all.
 
“I’m willing to risk it,” he said, sounding like he really didn’t care, which of course only took her rage to a whole new level that couldn’t be healthy for either one of them.
 
Keeping her glare fixed on the direction of the door, she threw back the covers off her bed, making a mental note to strip her bed clean and burn everything later, and headed towards the door. As soon as she reached it, she threw the door open, pushed past the large bastard that she loved more than anything and stormed into the kitchen.
 
“Where are you going, my sweet little angel?” he asked innocently as though he didn’t know.
 
“To make your dinner!” she snapped, simply because it felt good to snap at someone.
 
“Steak?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
 
“Nope,” she said, letting the word pop and knowing that she really shouldn’t take her anger out on him, but…
 
What the hell?
 
He was around and Duncan wasn’t, and hopefully never would be again, she told herself sternly, firming her jaw as she thought over her decision and forcing herself to decide that’s what she really wanted.
 
She never wanted to see Duncan Bradford again.
 
“Meatloaf?” her grandfather asked, following after her like a puppy and sounding so damn hopeful that she almost caved and gave him the dinner that he deserved, but she loved him too much to do that to him.
 
“How about I whip us up two fresh garden salads with grilled chicken and sliced peaches for dessert,” she suggested, trying to sound upbeat, but judging by the glare that her grandfather shot her, he really didn’t appreciate the fact that she had his welfare in mind.
 
He didn’t say anything to her, but then again he didn’t need to, not with the way that he was glaring at her as he absently reached over, grabbed an apple and took a huge bite out of it, all while his eyes told her just how badly he wished that he could throttle her. Normally she would roll her eyes and torment him back, but today apparently was not going to be one of those days, because before she could stop herself, not that she really cared, she started to cry and once she started, she couldn’t stop.
 
Embarrassed that she was crying over some guy that normally wouldn’t give her the time of day in front of her grandfather, the man that she loved and respected more than anything in this world, because now he knew just how pathetic she really was.
 
*-*-*-*
 
“Open the fucking door!” the shout rang throughout the house as Duncan made a half-hearted attempt to steal the last slice of pizza, but his heart just wasn’t in it.
 
Danny’s apparently was since the unsupportive bastard snatched the last piece out of his hand and said, “I think it’s for you.”
 
“No, shit,” he said, tossing his crumpled up napkin at his brother as he headed towards the front door where his elderly, pissed off neighbor was banging on the door and demanding his head on a pike.
 
Sighing, because he really wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about something that he already knew that he had to do, he opened the front door and-
 
“Mother fucker!” he growled as he stumbled back.
 
“That’s for making my little girl cry,” Mr. Dixon said, inviting himself in and getting in Duncan’s face as Duncan absently wiped the blood away from his split lip.
 
If the old man felt better after getting a shot in, that was fine with him. He’d taken worse beatings in his life and could care less about a split lip if it made the old man feel like he was protecting his granddaughter. He’d probably do the same thing if he had a granddaughter so he just let it go. That didn’t mean that he was going to let the old man get another shot in.