He’d been hoping to seem concerned and reasonable, but the disdainful look she gave him made him realize that he’d come off as simpering and ineffectual.

His attitude hardened. This was his house, and it was the middle of the goddamn night. If this was the way she wanted to play it…

“Get out,” he ordered. “And take this shit with you. I’m calling your boss in the morning. I don’t think Evergreen Title—”

She kicked him.

He’d half-expected it and sort of saw it coming, so he was able to move out of the way enough that her foot missed his crotch, but her shoe slammed into his right knee, causing him to cry out in pain and sending him flailing backward. The easy chair broke his fall, and he collapsed into it, his leg blazing with agony.

“Bitch!” he yelled. It was her least favorite word, and he said it to hurt her, but there was no acknowledgment that she’d even heard it. Instead, she closed her now empty briefcase and started for the door.

He staggered to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to push her down and watch her fall face-first onto one of the shit-stained documents, but he knew that was wrong and restrained himself. How had they come to this? They’d talked about moving in together. They’d both used the word “love.”

She opened the door, then turned to face him, her face distorted with fury. He had never seen such an expression on a woman, and the intensity of it took him aback. “I don’t want to see you again, I don’t want to hear your voice, and once Montgomery Community is out of business, I want you to move to another state or die.”

He couldn’t help himself. “Florine…”

She whirled away from him and strode out of the house toward her car, parked on the street. There were no lights, only a dim half-moon in the sky, but he had the impression that there was someone in the car waiting for her, a suspicion confirmed when she opened the passenger door and got in. The shadowy figure was laughing, and she started laughing, then the car door slammed shut and the vehicle drove away.

Coy stood there in his doorway, in his bathrobe, looking out at the night, the stench of feces in the living room behind him, confused and frightened, wondering what was happening and where all this was going.

Seven

SEVEN

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