For believing someone like me would ever be worthy of someone like him.
I lost sight of the things that matter. Like protecting my sister from that monster.
“I’d like to go home,” I blurt. “If you can’t take me, I’ll take the bus.”
Jackson and Sawyer share another one of their secret looks. Jackson stands. “If that’s what you really want, then I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you.” I swat his arm away. “I’ll go get my things.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Vanessa
I PACE THE floor of my living room, waiting for Jackson to arrive to pick me up for our date. It’s been two weeks since the awful weekend in The Hamptons, and I’m living on a razor’s edge. I have hardly seen my boyfriend—if that’s what he still is. At first, that was my fault. I kept him at arm’s length as I sunk into depression. I’m drinking again, because it’s the only way I can sleep at night now the nightmares have returned with a vengeance. The control I have worked so hard for is slowly slipping away, and I need to cling to something to give me strength.
I was wrong to push Jackson away.
I’m not sorry I haven’t told him the truth about my past and what’s going on with Kayleigh, but I need him as much as I need air to breathe. I fucking miss him so much. I love him so much. My heart pines for him. I lie awake at night crying without his protective arms around me. More than that, I just miss his company. His cheeky smile. His ability to make me laugh. I don’t want to lose him, so I’m going to fight for him even if it could be too late.
He’s been in Alabama the past four days, but he got back to the city last night. I had planned on contacting him today, asking to meet up, but he beat me to it. When he called late last night and asked me to dinner, a layer of stress lifted from my shoulders, knowing he hasn’t given up on us.
That’s not the reason why I’m presently on edge though. I am happy we’re going out, and I’m excited to see Jackson, but I’m so fucking terrified, and it consumes everything else.
A week ago, I made an anonymous phone call to social services, and I’ve been on tenterhooks ever since. Judging from the slew of panicked messages Mom has been leaving on my cell today, I know they must have paid the house a visit. I haven’t returned her calls or texts, because I’m afraid she’ll know it was me. Yet, I want to know what’s happened too, so I’m trapped in this limbo state, and the uncertainty is killing me.
The bell chimes, alerting me to Jackson’s presence downstairs. Forcing my fear aside, I grab my purse and pull the door closed behind me. Hopefully, after a night with my man, I’ll feel more relaxed and I’ll know what to do.
I open the entrance door to my boyfriend and instantly stop breathing. The early evening light casts a golden hue over his tall form, highlighting his sexy blond hair, those twinkling blue eyes I love to get lost in, the cute dimples in his cheeks, and the flirty smile on his lips. He’s wearing a tight shirt and jeans, and man, is he a sight for sore eyes.
“Hey.” I smile shyly at him, suddenly overcome with nerves.
“Nessa.” His gaze rakes up and down my body, and I shuffle on my feet, feeling self-conscious. “I’ve missed you.”
“You have?” I squeak.
He reaches out, maneuvering his hand through my hair, clasping the nape of my neck, and reeling me into his chest. “Why would you question that?”
I shrug, biting on my lip. “We haven’t exactly been on good terms.”
“It doesn’t change the fact I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I softly admit. “I’m sorry for my odd behavior. The argument with the stepmonster shook me, and I haven’t been doing so well. I should never have pushed you away.”
“I know, babe. It’s okay.” He leans down, pressing his lips to mine, and I get lost in his kisses, emptying my mind of all troubling thoughts, focusing on how good it feels to touch him and hold him. His eyes are tender but troubled when he breaks our lip-lock. “We should move before we lose our dinner reservation.”
The Thai place he takes me to is a recent addition to the city’s dining options. I have heard they are booked out for three months solid, but I’m not surprised Jackson got a reservation. The Lauder name carries clout, and there aren’t many doors it doesn’t open.
We are escorted to a private booth in the back, and after placing our orders, we settle back to catch up. “How was the wedding?” I ask, sipping my water.
“Good.”
“Just good?”
He shrugs. “It was a wedding on the beach. Abby wore a white dress. Anderson put on a monkey suit. We ate cake, got drunk, and danced.” He arches a brow. “That better?”
“I was only asking. You don’t need to be a dick.” There’s a subtle bite to my tone.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry. It’s just there’s not much to tell.”
“Okay.” I decide to drop the subject.
“Tell me what’s been going on with you?” he asks, stretching his hand across the table and threading his fingers in mine.
His touch is comforting, but I still can’t relax. He was quiet in the car on the way here, and now, he’s prickly when I was only asking a question. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to discuss it, and his snippy attitude frustrates me. Yet he expects me to talk? Perhaps, going out tonight wasn’t such a good idea. Not when he’s clearly tired and moody and I’m worried and distracted over what’s going down with the stepmonster.
“Not much to tell,” I say. “I’ve been working a lot although I did go to a party with Chloe and her boyfriend last weekend.” I don’t divulge that I got smashed and passed out on some stranger’s couch, waking up with the hangover from hell. Although, I was grateful I still had my clothes on. It beats the times I woke up naked in a stranger’s bed with zero recollection of the night before.
Our appetizers arrive, and Jackson frowns as he looks down at our conjoined hands, almost like he can’t remember reaching out for me. We eat in silence, and I don’t like the sudden awkwardness or the lingering tension simmering in the air.
“Have you had any contact with Aaron or your mom or seen Kayleigh and Hunter?” he asks after the waitress has cleared our plates away.
I shake my head, gulping down a mouthful of sparkling water.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I lie. “I’m still thinking it over.” I place my glass down and knot my hands in my lap, needing to distract myself from this train of thought before I throw up. “What about you? When do you leave for RU?”
“Ten days.”
“What happens then?” I blurt, digging my nails into my thigh through my dress.
His brow creases. “What do you mean?”
“With us.”
A multitude of emotions flashes across his face before he puts his mask on. He smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “We don’t have to talk about this now. Let’s just enjoy our dinner.”
My stomach twists into anxious knots, and I can’t enjoy dinner because I have an unerring sense of impending doom and the dark cloud hovering over my head is souring my mood.
He gets out of the car when we arrive back at my place, opening the car door for me. He takes my hand, and I swallow over the nervous lump in my throat. “Can I come up?” he asks when we reach the front door.
“Sure,” I croak. My hands shake as I fumble with the key.
He takes the key from me, inserting it into the lock.
We walk up to my apartment in silence.
A blanket of dread crawls over me. He’s going to dump me. I feel it in my bones. And I need to get in there to say my piece first, in the hope it might sway him.
I place my purse on the counter, turning to face him. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. Come here.” He crooks his fingers at me.
“What?” I splutter.
“Come. Here.” He reaches out, hauling me into his chest. His muscular arms wrap around me as he peers into my e
yes. I gulp back my panic, confused as he just stares at me. I stifle a gasp as he lowers his head and his lips descend.
I startle at the intensity of his kiss. It feels like a plea and a goodbye at the same time. I cling to him, kissing him back with the same passion, the same need, pouring my heart and soul into every sweep of my lips. His erection presses against my stomach, and I palm his ass, grabbing hold of him, needing him to soothe the raw ache coursing through my body.
He pulls away, abruptly ripping his lips from mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Pained eyes meet mine for a brief second before he turns around, cursing under his breath as he grabs fistfuls of his hair.
“Jackson,” I whisper, and his spine stiffens. I walk to him, gently placing my hand on his waist.
He grabs hold of it, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles. It’s his signature show of affection, and my chest heaves as naked emotion lays siege to my body. “We need to talk,” I blurt before he says anything. “There are things I need to say. I know you’re leaving, but I don’t want to lose you. We share a real connection. I know you feel it the way I do, and we haven’t even properly explored it yet.”
Silence resonates for a couple beats. He releases my hand, turning around to face me. He takes a step back, creating distance between us. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t want to break up. I want to try the long-distance thing. We’re not that far away. It’s workable.”
Conflict rages in his eyes, and I can sense his inner turmoil. “Nessa.” He closes the gap between us, winding his fingers through my hair as he pins me with a soft expression. “We’ll both be busy. It won’t leave much time to see one another.”
“I’ve already spoken to Paul. I can work Monday to Friday so I have my weekends free. I can travel to you, or you can travel to me.” It’s not exactly a done deal yet, but he doesn’t need to know that.
He sighs, and his expression turns troubled again. “I’m an all-or-nothing kinda person, babe.” He toys with strands of my hair. “It’d kill me being away from you so much. I don’t think I can do it.”
The first splinter appears in my heart. “Can’t you at least try?”
Dropping his hand, he steps back, rubbing a spot over his chest. “I’m sorry, Nessa. I think that would end up hurting both of us more.”
I reclaim the space, clutching his arm. “Please, Jackson. I love you.” Desperation threads through my tone, but I’m too panicked to care about how needy I sound. “Let’s just see how the first month goes.” I cup his face. Indecision flickers across his eyes, igniting a spark of hope. “For me?”
His eyes skim my face as he battles some inner war. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. When he reopens them, he steps back, and my hands fall away. “This isn’t about you, Nessa. You’re amazing, and you’re going to make some guy really happy one day, but that guy isn’t me.” He averts his eyes while another splinter tears through my heart. “I’m not ready to settle down. I’m too selfish.” He shoves his hands deep in his pockets, staring at the floor. “I’m going to college, and I don’t want to be held back.”
“You think I’d hold you back?” I hate how my voice wobbles. “I would never do that.”
His head tips up, and our eyes lock. “Not consciously, Nessa. But I don’t want or need complications.”
“So, that’s all I am to you? A complication?” I snap as anger rears its head.
“You know I don’t mean that.”
I fold my arms around myself protectively. “Has this summer meant so little to you?”
“Of course not.” His eyes plead for understanding that is in limited supply. “I’ve loved hanging out with you, but we are going in different directions, and we want different things from life.”
“No, we don’t,” I shout. “I want the same things as you. To enjoy college life. To pursue my passions. To leave the past in the past. To finally live now that I’m free to make decisions for myself. To make something of myself!” My heart races as pain slams into me on all sides. “But I don’t get to live that life. I’m trying to make the best of the hand I’ve been dealt, so don’t tell me we want different things because that is not the fucking truth!” I roar, fully giving in to the anger that is buried deep inside me. This isn’t all attributable to him, but he’s lowered my defenses, my walls are down, and all the pain is flooding through.
Remorse flashes momentarily across his face. Or maybe, it’s pity. The emotion is gone so fast I didn’t have time to dissect it. “I didn’t stop to think about how disappointing that is for you, and I’m sorry, Nessa. You deserve to have all that, but it changes nothing. It’s best we end this now. For both our sakes.”
He’s clearly made up his mind, and how easy it seems for him to toss me aside.
He doesn’t look like his beating heart has been yanked from his chest. Like he’s struggling to breathe or his legs are about to go out from under him. Whatever emotion I thought I saw on his face is gone, replaced with gritty resolution. This is barely a blip on his radar. He has already moved on. “Did you care for me at all?” I whisper.
His eyes meet mine, and I catch a tiny glimpse of humanity. “Of course, I care for you. I do. I wish it could be different, but it can’t.”
“If you truly cared for me, this wouldn’t be so easy for you.”
He opens his mouth to speak before clamping his lips shut, clearly thinking better of it. He shrugs, but the movement is stiff, like he’s forcing himself to appear detached. He’s emitting conflicting vibes I can’t figure out. Or perhaps, it’s that delusional part of my personality seeing things that don’t exist. Clinging to stupid hope long after it’s evaporated into thin air.
“I’m doing what’s necessary,” he quietly says. “When you calm down, you’ll realize I’m right.”
“Don’t try to tell me what I’m feeling,” I hiss. “You have no clue how I feel.”
He shrugs again, and it irritates me to no end. “I don’t know what else to say here, Vanessa. We had fun, but it’s come to an end. I’d like to part ways as friends, but that’s up to you.”
“I don’t want to be friends, Jackson.” I reach toward him, and pain stabs me in the gut when he sidesteps me, shaking his head. “I want more. Please reconsider.” Anger has given way to panic again.
Jackson is all I have.
Without him, my life is empty.
I can’t lose him.
I love him, and I know he loves me too.
He’s just too afraid to admit it to himself.
A muscle pops in his jaw as he stares at me. “I’m sorry, Nessa, but I’m not changing my mind. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”
His mask comes down again, and I wonder if he is even human behind that gorgeous façade. I know there is no point pleading. He has shut himself off completely. Anything I say will bounce off those walls he’s erected. I’ll only make myself look even more pathetic than I am.
I laid my heart on the line, hoping it would be enough, but I completely misjudged him and the situation.
He doesn’t love me.
How could he? I am unlovable.
He doesn’t even care.
Why would anyone? It’s not like I’ve got anything to offer.
I am expendable, and I doubt he’ll even remember me in a week.
Why should he? It’s not like I’m special or in any way memorable.
Inside, I’m empty. Hollowed out. Until this painful, dark entity springs to life in my stomach. It’s a writhing mass of tangible pain that feeds off my distress and the agony of his rejection. Growing at an exponential rate, it sucks all the good stuff into its orbit, swirling and churning until it has consumed every part of me. I shiver as cold, dark tentacles claw at my insides, invading every muscle and sinew, erasing the light, like death snuffing out life.
“Get out.” I point at the door. “I never want to see you again.”
“I don’t want to leave it like this.�
� He steps toward me carefully.
“I’ve said all I want to say. You know where the door is.”
He swoops in, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. I should push him away, but I’m working too hard on not breaking down in front of him. “You are far too good for me, Nessa,” he whispers. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and that will never be me.” He eases back. “I’m sorry.” He tries to make eye contact, but I stare through him.
I can’t look at him.
I want him gone.
I need him to leave before I fall apart.
“Goodbye.” He walks out the door, and I slump against the counter, gripping it for dear life, holding my tears in until I hear the front door closing downstairs.
Then, I give in to my grief. Sobs rip from my soul as I bend over the counter, crying like I haven’t cried in a long time. My shoulders heave, and my breaths are erratic as I struggle to draw enough air into my lungs. Painful cries bounce off the silent walls, and it truly feels like I’m dying. I’m in agony. Pain has a vise grip on every part of me, and I’m suffocating under dark emotions I’ve worked so hard to suppress. My heart is torn to shreds behind my rib cage, and pain is the only substance flowing through my veins.
A hand fists my hair, and my cries instantly die out as I’m yanked back from the counter and viciously thrown across the small kitchen area. The side of my head hits the corner of the counter, and I scream as piercing pain lances across my skull. I’m shoved with force, and I lose my balance, swaying on my feet. My spine slams into a cupboard, and my shoes fly in different directions as I slither to the ground, my body contorting in pain.
“You pathetic bitch,” Aaron sneers, looming over me. Horror engulfs me as I stare up at him while pressing two fingers to my head. My fingertips come away bloody, and I wonder if I have a concussion. “It’s no surprise he’s dumped the trash.” He kicks me in the stomach, and I double over as bile travels up my throat.
My head is spinning, and black spots mar my vision.
Crouching down in front of me, he grips my chin painfully. “I warned you not to interfere.”
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