It's That 'I Hate You' Kind of Love

Chapter Twenty Eight

**When you see ITIHYKOL that stand for It's That I Hate You Kind of Love**

"Go away!" I screamed, slamming the bedroom door behind me and leaning my back against the wood to block him out.

His fist crashed against the barrier as it nearly hit his face. "Charlotte!" Carson growled. "Let me in!"

"No!" I shouted. My heels dug into the hardwood. "You lied you stinking liar!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't cut it." I snapped. I don't want a werewolf's freaking apology. I don't want his apology.

"Then what do you want me to do," He said, gritting his teeth and bumping his fist on the door in frustration. I crossed my arms even though he couldn't see me and pointedly didn't say anything. He can go jump off a bridge, that's what he can do.

"Charlotte," Carson began again in a growl. I ignored him, listening to his annoyed silence, and then as he began muttering profanities under his breath. He could have quite the colorful vocabulary when he wanted.

Then, to my surprise, Carson paused. There was a soft, defeated sigh that made me freeze. I could imagine the way his hand would brush through his blonde hair, and the way he would look to the ceiling as if asking it for help. "What do you want me to do?"

His gentle voice sent a shiver up my spine.

This dog is going to be the death of me.

"Who sends more than fifty werewolves to guard one person when they're visiting their family for a week," I answered furiously, balling my hands into fists. "Who does that-"

"I wanted you to be protected!"

"You promised!" I screeched back, immediately squeezing my eyes shut as I realized how petty I sounded. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember you telling my mother that you would leave me alone for the entire week! That was all bull-shit wasn't it?"

"No." Carson ground out angrily, bracing his hands on the door. "Now open this door dammit, or I'm breaking it down."

I curled my toes into the wood flooring and pushed my back even harder on the closed door. "You think you're such a strong manly man don't you?" I bit sarcastically. "More like a cave man!"

My childish words were met by a rumbling growl that seemed to shake the walls. "One."

I snorted despite the fact that my palms were beginning to sweat. "Really? You're going to try that 'count to three thing'? In case you haven't noticed, puppy, I'm not four years old."

"Two."

Down the hall a door opened and closed. "Think you guys can keep it down-"

"Shut up Jay!" Carson and I yelled. The door shut again amidst his grumblings.

"Open the door," Carson growled. "Last chance."

I didn't want to be worried. I didn't want to believe that he would do it. I didn't want him to best me.

"Th-"

"Alright!" I shouted in defeat, rolling to the side and throwing the door open. Recrossing my arms over my rib cage, I shot him the deadliest glare I could muster. "There, happy now poodle-man?"

"Ecstatic." He shot back, striding into the room like he owned the place.

Well, I guess he does own the place.

As he walked past me I immediately began to slip to the door, only for it to slam so loud I screamed. Whirling around, I nearly gasped at Carson leaning toward me with pitch black eyes. His thick arm was braced on the top of the door keeping it firmly shut.