Part of me wants to be mad, but the other part of me wants so badly to retort by telling him that I would have preferred it if he were on his back.
Instead, I defend myself with, “Dax is not my boyfriend.”
“Are you sure about that? The way I see it, he’s awfully possessive of you and not shy about marking his territory. He’s a lot like that dog of yours… he might as well have pulled out his pecker and pissed around you!”
“Are you trying to make a point, or are you being obnoxious on purpose?”
“My point, Blythe, is that you’re a taker. You are willing to take whatever I give you, look at me with those big, beautiful eyes of yours, and talk to me about trust. With those same eyes, you close yourself off to me and refuse to answer me when I ask you where you’ve been. How am I supposed to trust you with my niece, with her life, my life, when you won’t do the same for me? That family bullshit you were spouting back there doesn’t mean shit to me if you’re going to take from me without giving back. And don’t even get me started on everyone else. They don’t trust me further than they can throw me, but no one blinks at asking me to put Agata in danger. And I’m supposed to go along with it? I don’t know about you, but where I’m from, people in a family don’t treat each other like that.”
The howling of the wind picks up and, for a while, it’s the only sound that can be heard on The Green. Someone has let Dog out of the dorm—everyone at Mosley Hall helps me look after him—and he’s now loping toward us across the grass, his pink tongue hanging sideways out of his mouth. He jumps up and nudges my hand with his head—his way of telling me that he wants to be scratched behind the ears. I oblige him in an effort at distraction, but it only works for so long. Gage has taken my silence to mean that I’m indifferent and he turns on his heels to walk away.
“That’s what I thought,” he shoots over his shoulder as he disappears back toward Hexley Hall.