The Eruption of Mountgomery

Chapter 18

I knew that. I recognized it and remained composed. The world could burn--everything could burn at my own hands and nothing could stop me from seizing him. He encapsulated everything I admired--everything I wanted and everything I possibly needed.  However, he was simply too stubborn, too deep in denial that playing this game would be the only way to get him to snap out of it--he blacked out, his rage blinded him. Oh, in reality, I did not miss him--did not miss Xavier Copperfield. I simply knew that the trust Xavier and I built over the years was shaky at best. I also had known the risks in asking a man who was neutral to the happenings during my training to join my cause. 

When I knew that Nero would be there--I had that feeling simply by the way Copperfield acted around me that day. He seemed to be walking around proverbial eggshells and never looked me directly in the eyes. It was enraging, however, I simply sighed and informed him that he would be dismissed of his duties. I also had expected Nero to be fired--well not exactly the same day Jade Montgomery went public, but it was something I knew to eventually happen. 

I was left with no connections, no roots, nobody left to trust, and the one person I did trust abandoned me. I was not doing this as a way to lead Nero to my path, but love is a nasty bug. It infects the host's mind, consuming them. It dictates everything they do, everything they desire to do. I knew that Nero would not be impervious to the emotion. The news clipping was something small, the words were blacked out, stricken through with the careful stroke of the sharpie. I could see him shoving the clipping into his pocket, glaring at the concrete slabs in front of him as he did so. 

The sheepdog barked as I poured food out into a small bowl. Drawing out my phone from its place in my sweatpants' pocket, I noticed the text. 

Is my love just a game to you, Jade, Blaise whatever the fuck your name is? At first, I glared at it, glared at the words, leaving it unanswered for quite some time, until I realized that I knew he loved me--why would he want to turn me away? He had nobody--however I was certain he would be able to charm any woman he wanted, yet he sought after me all these years. Why? 

If you truly believe that, you would have stopped pursuing me. Nero, we need to talk, seriously. 

The answer was almost immediate and I smirked knowingly. I sauntered back in the kitchen, drawing my phone from my pocket once again. A bottle of wine was in my sights and when I seized the bottle, I reread his response. 

You are not giving me a straight answer--I want to--

It was almost as though he couldn't properly state what he was feeling--he could not voice his grievances. It almost seemed he was preoccupied with something. If I felt absolutely nothing but detestation and disdain for him, I would not have kissed him twice. I would not have sought him out--would not have led him on a wild goose chase and frankly, I would not find myself in constant need of him. However, if a relationship were to blossom more than the friendship I had known, what would become of us? Could I stay--could he stay loyal or would he just be another ally six feet under? 

Carefully, I chose my words, I nibbled on my lower lip, drawing it into my mouth slightly. Releasing my lower lip from my teeth, I type out my response. 

Not giving you a straight answer? You are the one who left me--if you truly hated me you would have forgotten about me, gotten married and would be waiting for children. You would still have a job. Nero, don't turn this shit upon me. I wanted to love you--frankly, I want to love you. 

The admittance--I expected a harsh critique. I expected Nero to rage on the other end, but instead I received silence. I placed my phone back into my pocket and the Shetland sheepdog plodded her way toward the dining room. Her large brown eyes stared right up at me and she whimpered. I sighed and scooped her up into my arms. Placing my head into the fur of her chest, I ignored the buzzing I felt in my pocket. I ignored him, ignored the world. I didn't ask to be the most hated person--or perhaps I did. I did not like that--I never asked for it on the basis of something I had no control over. I know it is the same argument, but when the rain halted its steady stream upon my roof, I wiped my eyes and gazed at the dog who barked softly. I chuckled and placed her onto the ground. Pulling out my phone, I smirked at the text. 

You got me fired--I do want to talk to you, but on my terms. That mill works just fine. Tomorrow? 

Resolutely, I leaned back and sighed. Gazing up at the ceiling, I counted the dots upon the ceiling. Clasping my hands behind my head, there was that soft crackling within my veins. I lowered my arms and glared at my phone. 

Tomorrow? What of tonight? 

What? Are you meeting someone else--?

Why are you making rash assumptions? Are you angry? 

Me--angry? No. Never. 

The sarcastic yet dry tone of the words oozed and I huffed indignantly. I never meant for this whole scenario to escalate into a cold war. He was lying through his teeth--his anger is like a tornado--it's there, it builds and builds and builds until it finally condenses then vanishes and you are left in its wake wondering where the storm went. I huffed opting to not respond. 

Perhaps I should just leave--disappear and let you stew in your anger a little while longer. 

I heard the clicking of the dog's nails against the tiled flooring of the kitchen and hook the leash upon its harness. Sauntering outside, the loud crackle of thunder radiated off in the distance just as the sun peered through a sea of grey clouds. They were rapidly darkening. The wind picked up. Then I turned to my phone and noted the fact that my phone buzzed in my hand as I began to walk. I simply declined the call pocketing my phone and turning off the ringer as it rested within my pocket. The smirk refused to fall from my lips once I returned from the walk. Releasing the clasp of the leash on the harness, I draw out my phone. The howling of the winds refuses to die down. I am nowhere near him--what the hell? 

You bitch--

I've been called worse, Nero. 

How dare you lead me on then proceed to hang up when I wish to call you. How dare you? 

I simply dare because it is fun to watch you squirm as you are doing right now. No anger? Please, look at the sky. You will kill more than a guilty party who has been associated with me.

Who are you exactly? The woman I loved--

Blaise is simply out for blood--that's all it is. I do not deserve the hell you are giving me. I want an answer when we meet: Do you really believe I hate you just as I do with those you worked with? Am I pissed at you? Absolutely. Do I deserve to be pissed with you? Yes. However, you do not have the right to turn this shit on me. Goodbye until we meet tonight. 

I could practically hear the scream as an earthquake-like crash broke through the pleasant silence startling the dog and shaking me to my very core. When I lowered my phone to the desk, I smirked. Perhaps the game should not end--me? Leading him on? No. No. I fight back--I spent too long depending on others. Nothing would satisfy me and throw caution to the wind more than making him squirm--making him understand the hell he put me through all those years ago.