My Benefactor

My Benefactor Chapter Five

My Benefactor

Copyright © 2011 crimsonnebula

All rights reserved

Chapter Five
Picture on the side is Ciara (Model Brigitta Munkacsi)

Enjoy! No proofreading done.

**********

(Bryson's POV)


"Bryson! Were you even listening to me?" Ciara yelled.

I killed the engine and got out of the car, then slammed the door shut. I took long strides towards my house, like a raging bull who had seen a Matador flinging a red cloth. I was too furious to talk, too mad. I wondered, what the hell was wrong with me, snapping at Reagan like that? It was pretty clear that I had no business with what she does with her life and here I am, freaking out about her living with that douche of a guy named Drake... Dane... ah, hell. Whatever.

I heard the passenger door open and slam shut, followed by frantic footsteps. Ciara could be relentless at times. She doesn't know when to drop the subject when it was crystal clear that I didn't want to talk about it. I hate it when she does that psychobabble bullshit about 'couples should talk about what they are feeling' and all that mushy gooey crap.

"Bryson! Wait up!" she shouted.

I continued ignoring her then whipped the front door open with a bang. I left it open, then stormed off to the living room to cool down. I plopped heavily on the couch and leaned my head back, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Great. Just freaking great." I muttered.

"Don't you dare ignore me, Bryson Tanner Weiz!" Ciara screeched, stomping her way in the living room towards the couch and folded her arms over her chest like a bratty kid in front of me.

I sat up straight, "Ciara, just leave me alone, okay? Please?" I pleaded.

She glared, "No. We are going to talk." She said, gritting her teeth.

I threw up my hands in the air, "What in freaking hell are we going to talk about, huh?"

She placed her hands on both sides of her hips and glared even more, "You know what I'm talking about. You acted like a jealous boyfriend when you snapped at Reagan at the school parking lot." She sneered.

I scowled at her, "I was not jealous, Ciara."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. It's written all over your face. If you weren't, you wouldn't have reacted like that."

I gulped. She had a point though but still, I wasn't jealous. I think.

She smirked, "But I'm quite pleased that you called her a whore. I didn't know she would stoop so low like shacking up with some old peverted man and buy her gifts just to get in her pants."

Now that was hitting below the belt. How dare Ciara talk about her best friend like that? That was unlikely of her to be mean. She should know that Reagan was not a whore. I should know. Reagan never cheated on me. I was just so mad and upset  that I couldn't help it. She was the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful girl I had ever met but I screwed up. I had no backbone to defend our relationship before, just because of that stupid Rebecca and keeping my family's legacy a secret.

I stood up from the couch and glared menacingly at Ciara, "Don't you dare talk about Reagan that way. She's your best friend and you should know better. How would you know that this Drake... Dane... or whatever his name, is an perverted old man, huh? You can be shallow at times and naive."

She gasped, "You called her a whore and now you're defending her? I am not shallow and I am not naive!"

"I was angry, okay? That's why I called her a slut. I didn't mean it. Yes, it's true you're shallow and naive Ciara. You assumed the guy Reagan was living with was her boyfriend."

"Because she said I love you back so I thought..." She trailed off, trying desperately to defend herself.

"See? There you go." I said, proving my point.

"Does it matter? God! Why are you defending her? I'm your girlfriend!" she cried.

I glowered at her, "Yes, you are my girlfriend, but you're acting like a frigid bitch."

She glared, "Freaking hell, Bryson!" she growled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "I can tell the way you look at her. You still have feelings for her! HELL, YOU STILL LOVE HER!" she yelled. By now, the tears flowed freely from her eyes like the rain relentlessly falling in a storm.

I grabbed her arm and held it tight, "Listen to me, Ciara. Reagan and I are over. She was my past and you're my future. I don't love her anymore. I love you," I said, fiercely trying to make her understand.

"She sniffled, "Really? You really mean that?" she croaked.

I nodded then pulled her in for a hug, "Yes, I mean it. I love you, Ciara," I murmured in her hair.

She chuckled then hugged me back, "Me too. I love you too."

I sighed, "I'm sorry for being an ass." I said, stroking the small of her back up and down. I felt her shiver from my touch, then relax again.

"I'm sorry too. I was over exaggerating it." She mumbled in my chest.

I pulled back a little and tilted her chin to look at me, "I think we should apologize to Reagan. It was mean of us to snap at her like that."

She thought for a moment, then with a hesitating nod she agreed, "Okay."

I smiled, "I love you," then crashed my lips on her soft pink ones. It was tender and sweet, which held a promising feeling, but I couldn't help but compare it to Reagan's emotion-filled ones. I was about to deepen the kiss when someone interrupted us and might I add, rather rudely.

"Well isn't that nice. Two people sucking faces like there's no tomorrow."

I broke away and saw Rebecca leaning on the living room wall with an evil smirk on her face, "What do you want, Rebecca?" I asked, releasing Ciara from my arms to face her.