Free Bad Day (Hard Rock Roots) by C.M. Stunich

hard.
    “Naomi?” I look at him, at the ghost tattoos on his arms and his soft gray eyes. Turner might be right; Dax might really be an emo bitch. But that's what's good about him. There's a softness there that I just don't have anymore. I start off down the hallway without responding, hoping I can get to the room before Turner does.
    No chance of that. Soon as I start inside, his hand comes slamming into the door above my head and pushes it open, leaving plenty of room for him to come in behind me and lock it tight. I head immediately for the shower. I can't get there fast enough. I look down at the counter when I walk in the bathroom and spot Turner's bag, gaping open. Inside, buried amongst his clothes, there are enough illegal substances to kill a horse. I stare at it for a moment, grab the bag and toss it out into the room. Unfortunately, Turner gets in between me and the door frame before I can slam it shut.
    He's panting, too, and his pupils are wide, fingers shaking as he wraps them around the edge of the countertop.
    “Leave me the fuck alone,” I snap at him, feeling my knees quiver and shake. I feel so dizzy right now, so so dizzy. I just want to slump against the wall of the shower and slide down, let the hot water soothe over me.
    “Why?” he snaps right back, challenging me. “What did I do now?” I grab my hair and let the stress I've been decompressing open right back up and overflow.
    “Left me alone and pregnant. Still don't understand why you can't see that this is a problem, a road block if you will. We can't have a relationship, Turner. I don't know what I've been thinking. I've been weak about this.”
    “This is you trying to rationalize the pain, Knox. Let it go. Tell me what you think about me, how much I hurt you. I'll stand here and listen. But when you're done, you and me, we're golden.”
    “Turner, go the fuck away.” I say, stumbling over and sitting down on the edge of the bathtub.
    “No.” He stands there in black sweatpants and looks down at me with a look of pure confidence. I will not turn him down. He cannot be turned down. We're meant to be. I can't even stand it. I look down at the faucet and turn on the water. Turner grabs my shoulders and pulls me up towards him, smashing me to his chest. “Marry me, Knox.”
    I snort.
    “That's stupid,” I say, hearing a slight lisp in my voice. My mouth is definitely swollen. Told you Hayden could fight back if she wanted. I hope she dies down there, drowning in her own blood.
    “I mean it,” Turner says, face so close to mine that I could kiss him if I wanted to. If I wanted to. “You said you loved me, and I know sure as shit that I love you. Let's do it, get hitched. Make love. Have babies.” I shove him so hard that he lets go of me, and I slip, falling into the tub and cracking my head against the tile with a curse.
    “Fuck!” I scream, letting the hot water cascade down on top of me. “Stop trying to comfort me here. Leave me alone. You don't need me. You don't even need those stupid fucking drugs. Go rest, go wait for news from your friend.” I try to pull myself up, but Turner's already there, yanking me to my feet, wet and soggy and bloody. “Stop focusing so much on me and worry about yourself.” I say, turning away from him. He comes up behind me, sliding his hands around me and touching my bare belly, moving his fingers up to massage my breasts. I try to ignore him, but I think we all know by now that it's pretty much impossible to ignore Turner fucking Campbell. “This isn't about me right now.”
    “No, this is about us,” he says, displaying a strange wealth of feeling I hadn't thought him capable of. I push the shower curtain back and let him slip the robe over my shoulders and onto the floor.
    “This is about Treyjan.”
    “Treyjan will be fine. He has to be fine. He just,” Turner pauses and blows a puff of hot air out against my neck, making my spine curl, drawing a gasp to my lips that I bite back