Pain

Carson’s eyes lower to the table, his blood beginning to boil. Frankie had hit below the belt and had hit hard, not only mentioning Ashlyn, but insulting him and bringing back Carson’s feeling of worthlessness. It was a hard chunk to swallow, and he fought to keep himself under control.

He grits his teeth, forcing an ironic smile. Calmly, he takes a swig of his water again before setting the glass back down decisively. “Well, Frankie…” He looks up, catching those blazing eyes. “If you’re going to inform Ashlyn of my shortcomings, you’re gonna have an awfully long way to go.” He purses his lips in thought. He wouldn’t want to admit that someone like Frankie had actually gotten to him, but the pain he felt at the moment was great enough that he didn’t even want to fight. “See…I killed her in cold blood.”

He twirls his glass in his hand, losing focus for a moment. Finally, he stands up, his voice remaining calm. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Frankie, and I’ll give you credit for that. But mark my words. Insult me like that again, and that’s a fight I won’t walk away from.”

Carson tosses his napkin down. “You can tell Misty that I’m waiting outside for her.”