she going to make herself cry? She was still too mad right now to feel like bawling.
Juliet moved away from the bars and went to sit on the cot, positioning her back into a corner. Maybe she should bring her legs up on the bed and put her face in the crevice formed by her knees? Yes, that’s what a crying person would do - she’d scrunch herself into a tight ball, look helpless and sob uncontrollably with her head bent down inside her arms and legs. Bringing her legs up, Juliet wrapped her arms around them and put her head down. Now all she had to do was cry, but she needed actual tears to come out, otherwise he might not buy it. How could she make herself cry for real?
She gave herself a pinch on her arm and twisted the skin. Owwww, that hurt like a mother, but it didn’t bring any tears to her eyes. Boy, what she wouldn’t give for a raw, cut-up onion just about now. Wait… maybe she should just start to ‘pretend’ cry and the real tears might follow after that?
With her head still between her knees and her body curled into an even tighter ball on the cot, Juliet began to sniffle loudly as she squeezed her eyes shut. All of a sudden, snippets of scenes began to flash through her mind, scenes of her and Sara as kids when her parents had told them about the divorce, how their dad had moved away and abandoned them all for his new family, how she’d fall en into the lake and almost drowned, and how her mom had cried over everything. Real tears began to sprout out of her eyes and she choked back a sob lodged in her tight throat.
Damn it, where had that all come from?
* * *
Romeo’s eyes flew open at the sound of the soft crying and sniffling coming from the cell opposite his. Was she crying? Was the big bitch crying? But big bitches didn’t cry, did they?
He turned his head to look at her. She was on top of her cot, wrapped into a tight ball and her head was down, hidden in between her knees.
He could see her shoulders rising and falling in a jerky motion, matching the rhythm of her soft sobs. Great, the woman was crying - crying, for God’s sake. Now he had to deal with that on top of everything else, too?
He sighed to himself. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes sitting quietly on his cot trying to get a handle on all of the anger he was feeling towards the woman and his current, unfair situation, and now he had to listen to her tears too. So what if she was crying? It was her fault anyway.
She’d called the cops, brought them into his home, called him names and busted his balls all night long.
And what about his own injuries? His back was still killing him and he hadn’t been able to open his eye since sundown. Yeah sure, maybe it was true that she’d accidentally hit him and maybe he was doing wrong by accusing her falsely, but there was just something about her that just brought out the beast in him. She seemed to push all of his proverbial buttons and he didn’t know where to find the off switch.
But, he had to admit to himself that she was a pretty damn hot little number. She had long legs that reached to the sky, an amazing body, firm, round and real breasts - he could still remember how they’d felt sandwiched against his chest when they’d fall en on the couch together; oh yeah, those puppies were reall- and she also had the sweetest, most innocent face he’d ever seen on a woman, especially with those Madonna brown eyes of hers. Too bad she had the tongue of a viper to spoil everything!
Romeo heard her hiccup in between sobs and his hard heart melted. Slowly and gingerly, he rose up off the cot and shuffled to the bars to get a better look at her. She looked so small and vulnerable all curled up in a ball like that, and suddenly a primal instinct to protect her rushed through his system. He felt like a wolf wanting to defend its mate - as if it was stamped into his DNA - and he knew he must do whatever he had to do to help her.
“Stop crying, okay?” he softly intoned.
With
Juliet moved away from the bars and went to sit on the cot, positioning her back into a corner. Maybe she should bring her legs up on the bed and put her face in the crevice formed by her knees? Yes, that’s what a crying person would do - she’d scrunch herself into a tight ball, look helpless and sob uncontrollably with her head bent down inside her arms and legs. Bringing her legs up, Juliet wrapped her arms around them and put her head down. Now all she had to do was cry, but she needed actual tears to come out, otherwise he might not buy it. How could she make herself cry for real?
She gave herself a pinch on her arm and twisted the skin. Owwww, that hurt like a mother, but it didn’t bring any tears to her eyes. Boy, what she wouldn’t give for a raw, cut-up onion just about now. Wait… maybe she should just start to ‘pretend’ cry and the real tears might follow after that?
With her head still between her knees and her body curled into an even tighter ball on the cot, Juliet began to sniffle loudly as she squeezed her eyes shut. All of a sudden, snippets of scenes began to flash through her mind, scenes of her and Sara as kids when her parents had told them about the divorce, how their dad had moved away and abandoned them all for his new family, how she’d fall en into the lake and almost drowned, and how her mom had cried over everything. Real tears began to sprout out of her eyes and she choked back a sob lodged in her tight throat.
Damn it, where had that all come from?
* * *
Romeo’s eyes flew open at the sound of the soft crying and sniffling coming from the cell opposite his. Was she crying? Was the big bitch crying? But big bitches didn’t cry, did they?
He turned his head to look at her. She was on top of her cot, wrapped into a tight ball and her head was down, hidden in between her knees.
He could see her shoulders rising and falling in a jerky motion, matching the rhythm of her soft sobs. Great, the woman was crying - crying, for God’s sake. Now he had to deal with that on top of everything else, too?
He sighed to himself. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes sitting quietly on his cot trying to get a handle on all of the anger he was feeling towards the woman and his current, unfair situation, and now he had to listen to her tears too. So what if she was crying? It was her fault anyway.
She’d called the cops, brought them into his home, called him names and busted his balls all night long.
And what about his own injuries? His back was still killing him and he hadn’t been able to open his eye since sundown. Yeah sure, maybe it was true that she’d accidentally hit him and maybe he was doing wrong by accusing her falsely, but there was just something about her that just brought out the beast in him. She seemed to push all of his proverbial buttons and he didn’t know where to find the off switch.
But, he had to admit to himself that she was a pretty damn hot little number. She had long legs that reached to the sky, an amazing body, firm, round and real breasts - he could still remember how they’d felt sandwiched against his chest when they’d fall en on the couch together; oh yeah, those puppies were reall- and she also had the sweetest, most innocent face he’d ever seen on a woman, especially with those Madonna brown eyes of hers. Too bad she had the tongue of a viper to spoil everything!
Romeo heard her hiccup in between sobs and his hard heart melted. Slowly and gingerly, he rose up off the cot and shuffled to the bars to get a better look at her. She looked so small and vulnerable all curled up in a ball like that, and suddenly a primal instinct to protect her rushed through his system. He felt like a wolf wanting to defend its mate - as if it was stamped into his DNA - and he knew he must do whatever he had to do to help her.
“Stop crying, okay?” he softly intoned.
With
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