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Catch Me When I Fall

Page 21

by Jackson, A. L.


  She handed him the glass.

  “Thank you,” he said, bringing it to his plush lips.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said, glancing at me. She looked back at him. “I trust you got settled in the guest room?”

  “I did. I appreciate you letting me stay.”

  “Well, any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.”

  Something flashed through his expression, gone before I could make sense of it.

  “Of course, all of her enemies are my enemies, too.” She said it as if she was trying to be funny, but we both heard the threat.

  Apparently, my mama had gone badass.

  God, I was going to have to see to it that she wasn’t hanging out with Melanie so much.

  He looked directly at me. “If she were mine, I’d fight for her, too.”.

  Nineteen

  Royce

  “Holy crapballs. That dinner was delicious, Mabel.” Rhys mumbled it as he was shoveling fresh apple pie into his piehole.

  No doubt, someone had gotten a good look at him and the phrase was coined.

  Dude never shut up, which only made him more likable, which kind of annoyed me, too.

  My entire being was riding on a razor-sharp edge.

  Agitation burning a path through my body as I tried to sit there like a normal human being and not some squatter who was stealing space.

  If I was being honest, this whole damn scene was a little hard to stomach.

  Hanging out in this quaint home, sitting at an antique oblong dining table that was covered in a white embroidered tablecloth that had probably been in their family for generations, the dishes we were eating the most delicious meal I’d ever tasted surely hailing from the same time.

  Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey were sitting to my right at the far end. Their youngest son, Lincoln, who was twenty-five and lived on a smaller house to the back of their property, sat between Mrs. Ramsey and Richard, who sat directly next to me.

  Rhys and his mother sat to my left, and Emily rounded out the circle where she sat on the other side next to her father.

  The entire dinner had been spent with the group chatting and visiting and catching up, and doing it because they actually fucking cared.

  A family.

  The real kind.

  The right kind.

  I glanced at Emily.

  Screw the fucking apple pie.

  She was the most delicious thing I’d tasted. This wanting more was getting excruciating.

  Feeling the weight of my stare, she peeked across at me and gave me a tender, shy smile.

  Girl fucking stole my breath. Ripped it right out of my lungs. I shifted in the turbulence. In this unending need.

  Richard and Emily’s father cleared his throat. “So, Mr. Reilly, we’re glad to have you in our home. Rich here has been telling me about the opportunity you’ve brought about for the band. I always knew these two would make it, but it’s good to see someone coming along beside them who believes in them the way that me and their mama always have. Rare thing to find someone so committed to their job that they actually take the time to see it through right, the way you’re doing.”

  Lenny Ramsey basically looked like the image of what I’d expect Richard to look like in thirty years.

  Tall and strong, a lean body that had barely thickened with age, face wrinkled like a map from years of manual labor and squinting beneath the sun.

  A man who was not to be fucked with but who you could come to with anything.

  Loyal to the bone.

  “Nice, Dad, nice. Here I am, working my tail off day after day for you, and the only people you believe in around here are these two jerks who took off and left us in their stardust.”

  Lincoln was all grins when he looked at his family around the table, pride shining in his eyes, the tone of his words wholly playful.

  Like this was the only way he could say he was happy for them, too.

  Mr. Ramsey chuckled. “Don’t worry, son. Wouldn’t trust these two to run the family business. They’d be off in the back fiddling with some instrument or another, totally forgetting there are phones to be answered and orders to be filled. We’d be bankrupt in no time.”

  His words didn’t hold an ounce of displeasure.

  “If you’re so spun up over it, I’ll trade you.” Richard elbowed Lincoln with the tease.

  Lincoln’s eyes went round in feigned horror. “More money than I could ever spend and women throwing themselves at me night after night? No thanks. Sounds miserable.”

  The faked frown on Richard’s face was just as grim. “It’s terrible. Let me tell you, little brother, you would not want to have to stand a day in my shoes. You’d never make it.”

  Mrs. Ramsey tsked. “Now, you all stop making light. There is a whole lot of work that goes into this music business. Emily, Rich, and Rhys work just as hard as the rest of us, just different.”

  “Yeah!” Rhys shouted around another bite.

  “We work long hours, and the road gets really lonely,” Emily added.

  Lincoln lifted his hands and pretended to play the world’s tiniest violin. “Keep singin’ it, sister. I feel terrible for you.”

  He winked at her. Pure affection.

  I had the urge to rub at the raw spot on my chest.

  Mr. Ramsey returned his attention to me, lifting his brow, drawing the topic back to his original question.

  I cleared my throat. “I only want the best for them.”

  He smiled and rocked back in his chair. “And you believe your record label is the best? Mylton Records?”

  He wasn’t testing me. He was legit a straight-shooter. Asking me man-to-man.

  Guilt thickened my throat.

  “In the end, it will be.” I gave him the most honest answer that I could.

  Still, it drew tension, something unsettled moving around the table while all eyes landed on me.

  “In the end . . . meaning when we finally sign,” Richard jumped in, like he was doing me a solid and saving my ass.

  I glanced at him.

  Hard trust blazed back, though it was inscribed with a demand. Like he was telling me I’d better not do anything to betray that trust.

  Anxiety clawed, and I took a drink of my water to try to swallow it down.

  “I know that it will be,” Emily added in a low voice.

  The sudden banging on the front door jolted everyone from the conversation. Mr. Ramsey stood, wiping his mouth with his napkin and tossing it to the table. “I’ll get that.”

  The dining room was in a nook off the living room, and only the edge of the front door was visible from where I sat. He moved that way, his long legs taking the room in an easy stride. I could see his entire demeanor shift when he opened the door.

  His voice was lowered, but still it traveled through the space, anger lining the question like a rod of steel. “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to Emily.” The voice was pissed and hard, fueled by indignation.

  My entire being ignited, a flaming fury, immediately uncontained. Even though I couldn’t see him, didn’t have a clue what he looked like, it didn’t even take a second for me to realize who the bastard was.

  My gaze instantly jumped to the girl. The girl who was practically seizing, every muscle in her delicate body knotting in disdain and disgust and hurt.

  The entire room fell silent.

  Eyes darting everywhere, not sure what to do.

  My hands fisted under the table, rage when I took in the expression on her face as she fumbled to stand, shaking so hard she could barely find her footing.

  “Emily,” Richard questioned with dread and his own brand of anger. She settled those green eyes on him. Whatever passed between the two of them made Richard sink back down into his seat.

  Couldn’t look away as the girl slowly inched toward the door, her spine rigid and her spirit spilling out all over the place.

  “Emily,” the prick said like he had the right to claim her when she c
ame into sight.

  “Em.” Her father’s voice was caution, telling her she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do. She had a ton of people there to back her up if she wanted us to toss the prick from the property.

  Hell, I was about to build a ten-foot wall around her and paint it with signs that read No Trespassing.

  “It’s okay, we probably need to talk a few things out,” she whispered, her voice tight and laced with caution, though I could see her giving her father a reassuring nod. It only stoked the fire that lapped and surged inside me.

  Warily, her father seemed to give, and she touched his arm as she passed and stepped out into the darkness, shutting the door behind her.

  Nerves fucking raced, so goddamn hard I could feel the beat of my blood through every inch of my body.

  I gripped onto the edge of the table like it could be the anchor that kept me pinned in that chair.

  Trying not to spin out of control.

  To do something that I couldn’t take back.

  Mr. Ramsey stood at the closed door in outright reluctance before he finally heaved out a sigh, roughing a hand over the spot balding on the top of his head as he headed back into the dining room.

  Rhys swore under his breath, and Richard bounced his knee, while Lincoln looked at their father like he was waiting for him to give the cue to attack.

  Hostility seethed in all of them.

  It only fed my aggression.

  Mrs. Ramsey and Rhys’s mother tried to strike up a conversation to cover the bleak mood that descended on the room.

  Directly to the side of the dining room, the intimation of voices echoed through the thin walls of the house, gnarled and distorted.

  Through the side window, I could barely make out the shape of the girl, her shoulders slouched and her arms crossed over her chest.

  A guard.

  Security.

  Comfort.

  Heat blanketed my skin, and I could feel the beads of sweat gathering on my forehead.

  Swore I felt a piece of myself crack. Splinter away. Slammed with the need to be that for her.

  Her protector.

  Her shield.

  The one she could rely on when the people she’d relied on most had left her high and dry.

  To carry her and let her carry a little bit of me.

  Stupid.

  So fucking stupid.

  I fisted my hands tighter and tried not to blow.

  The prick’s voice got louder, elevated in anger. Emily’s response was a string of words that I couldn’t understand, though I could tell she was upset.

  “This is bullshit,” Richard grumbled.

  There was a scuffle of sounds. Footsteps and shouts and a small crash.

  That was it.

  All I could take.

  Mr. Ramsey was starting to stand, but I was already on my feet. Violence streaked through my muscles and aggression slicked across my flesh.

  Fire heating me to the core.

  Mr. Ramsey frowned in surprise, hovering between sitting and standing. Richard stuck out his hand, his gaze slanting to me for a beat, a warning and a buoy. “Think Royce has this one, Dad.”

  Confusion and speculation crowded the lines on their father’s brow, but I couldn’t find it in myself to stop. Didn’t care what anyone else thought in that moment because the only thing that mattered was I needed to be there for Emily.

  “I’m just going to make sure she’s okay.” The words cracked, a blatant lie and the outright truth.

  Their voices continued to carry, their argument a muffle of quickened words and old hurt and new wounds that were bleeding through the atmosphere. Could feel the entire table watching me as I moved through the living room, opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch.

  Heatwaves instantly clawed at my overheated skin, sticky and thick.

  From the side of the house, Emily’s heaving words became clear, agony threaded through every one. “No, Nile, you don’t get to make accusations about my life. It’s none of your concern. Not anymore.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” His voice was hard. Riddled with scorn. I wanted to skin the flesh from his bones.

  I took a silent step in the direction of their voices, trying to hold onto my quickly dwindling control. To remind myself I was only out there in case she needed me. That this wasn’t about me needing to enact a little piece of revenge for that piece of shit hurting her.

  “Is this about that freak who was in that picture? Writing you up like some kind of pathetic poet? Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you, Emily? Don’t even know you anymore, running around with some goth boy who looks like a junkie or some shit . . . what is he, some kind of wannabe rocker?” His voice was pure disgust. “I thought you were better than that.”

  “You’re gonna judge him when you’re the one who cheated on me?”

  “You were gone for three fuckin’ months.”

  “And that makes it okay?”

  “A man has needs, Emily.”

  “Glad to know I didn’t fill them. And guess what, Nile, I have needs, too. And I needed you to be there for me. For you to be waitin’, just like you’d promised you would be.”

  “Right . . . you wanted me waiting around for when it was convenient for you.”

  “You have no idea what you’re even sayin’. I loved you. And I came back because I needed you more than I’d ever needed you . . . and I found you with someone else. You destroyed me. Ruined the last piece of true belief I was clinging to.”

  He surged into her space. “Let me fix it then.”

  She tried to step away. “It’s too late for that.”

  “This is ridiculous, Emily. Just . . . get over it. We need to move on with our lives.”

  “I already am,” she told him.

  No doubt, the asshole took that as her admission that she was with someone else because he grabbed her by the arm. She squeaked a sound of surprise.

  Destruction screamed through my veins.

  I eased off the side of the porch.

  “You think you’re going to walk away from me? After I sat around here waiting for you to get over this stupid fantasy world of yours for twelve fucking years? I don’t think so, Emily.”

  “Let her go.” I pressed the demand through clenched teeth, hard as stones that pummeled him from behind.

  The prick froze. He was still gripping Emily’s wrist as he turned to look at me. He was lucky I didn’t rip his arm from his body.

  A sneer twisted up his face. “You think this is any of your business?”

  Aggression curled.

  Tension mounting.

  I forced myself to remain planted. Forced myself not to give in to the insanity I could feel blanketing my brain, covering me in a cloud of madness.

  “Yes,” I told him.

  Simply.

  Wholly.

  He cracked a menacing smile. “Move on, fuckboy. She’s my fiancée, so do yourself a favor and take your city ass back in that house before you get yourself introduced to the kind of country welcome you don’t want.”

  “I told you to let the girl go.” I could almost taste the venom on my tongue.

  Emily yanked her arm, trying to free it from his hold. “Just . . . let me go, Nile. It’s over.”

  He squeezed harder, derangement spilling out. “It’s over when I goddamn say it’s over.”

  Emily gasped in pain, and I watched those green eyes go wide with fear and surprise and more of that hurt that kept getting dealt her way.

  Jerking harder, she managed to break free, but with the momentum, she stumbled back, losing her footing.

  She tripped backward and slammed to the ground.

  He turned to go for her, and Emily was backpedaling, scooting on her butt away from the bastard who actually thought I was going to stand there and allow him to violate her all over again.

  There was nothing left.

  That insanity that had been building for years came to a head.


  Breaking.

  Logic shot.

  Rationale gone.

  I flew for him, feet pounding the ground like a war drum. Soon as I got close enough, I threw an arm around his neck and got him in a chokehold from behind.

  I cinched down tight.

  A sound of shocked aggression shot up his throat, and his hands instantly came up to my arm that was locked tight. Fucker kicked and scratched and struggled to break free.

  The prick was one of those brawny, meaty fucks, asshole trying to toss me like I was just going to let go.

  I squeezed tighter, cutting off his airflow, my voice a threat in his ear. “I won’t think twice to end you.”

  Could feel the panic ripple through his body. He threw an elbow backward and caught me in the rib. Pain splintered, punching the air from my lungs. I only held on tighter, throwing a fist into his side from behind. He howled, shouting in pain, and he lurched forward.

  The movement set me off-balance. He managed to break free and whirled around before I could process it. A fist came at me and hooked me on the jaw.

  Hard.

  I grunted through the explosion of fire that burst across my face.

  “You like that?” he taunted, jumping around and lifting his fists.

  I just swallowed it down, let it feed the fury, the violence that erupted in my blood. I moved for him, faster than he could prepare himself, and I threw a jab to the right side of his face, another to the left.

  Skin split and blood splattered.

  I could feel Emily’s torment rolling along the ground, her cries filling the night.

  Nile bellowed in pain, swiping the blood dripping from the gash on his cheek and lunging for me. He got his arms around my waist, his weight taking both of us to the ground.

  We hit it with a thud. In an instant, we were a tangle of scrambling, toiling bodies, both of us vying to pin the other. Fists flew, grunts and hits and curses filling the air. He clocked me on the right ear. Pain split through my head like the pierce of a knife.

  Rage and bloodshed. A disturbance that glowed and amplified.

  A flash of red.

  A strobe of dark.

  I tossed him off and had him pinned before I even realized I’d done it. Fists pounded his face.

  Relentless.

  Unforgiving.

 

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