The phone shifts out of focus as my eyes blur and my hand shakes, but I hear it ping after only a small moment.
It’s not Evan, though, it’s Jake. Hey, you want to grab coffee?
I have to force myself not to message him. I have to force myself not to tell him that I’m not okay. With how badly I want to be held, I wish I could, but I refuse to use him.
But after an hour going by and a dozen more text messages unanswered by Evan, I cave. I have to tell him, and so I do. I tell him over a text that his father passed away and after crying for hours and seeing that he read it, I still get nothing back.
I text Jake, I’m not okay.
Chapter 14
Evan
She won’t wait for you forever,
There’s no way she ever could.
Time changes by the day and life,
Brings both the bad and good.
It creeps into who you are,
Deep down in your soul.
The person that you left behind,
Will never again be whole.
It’s fitting it would snow today. I shudder as I watch men dig the hole my father will be laid in tomorrow. The ground’s hard and stubborn. Like my father, in a way.
The frigid air isn’t doing a damn thing to aid me in keeping my composure.
All day, all I could think is that it was James who somehow found a way to kill my pops. Mason’s the only reason I didn’t go back to his office and kill him. Even if he wasn’t there, there’s no place he could run.
I’m paranoid. I’m desperate. I’m fucking lonely.
I want my wife. I need her. A weak man would go to her and she’d be made a target. Mason assured me she’s safe, and this would only help reinforce to James that Kat and I aren’t together anymore and she shouldn’t be on his radar in the least.
The snow crunches to my right and I turn toward the small parking lot. Mason’s early. I didn’t even hear him come up behind me until now.
“Thanks for coming, man,” I greet him and take his outstretched hand.
“I’m so sorry,” Mason tells me as he looks behind me to the gravesite. He found Kat downstairs and I’m still devastated that I wasn’t there for her like he was able to be.
Every piece of me is begging to go to her. She can make me feel better—not right, but better.
“You hear anything from your guy?” I ask Mason as I turn from the two men digging my father’s grave. I’m desperate for someone to blame this on. It’s hard to grasp it’s real, let alone just a random occurrence. I’ll fucking lose it if he says yes, but that’s what I’m praying for. I’m already on edge. Anger is so much easier to handle than despair. If this was because of me, I’ll never forgive myself. My heart clenches as Mason stares back at me.
“It was natural causes,” he says lowly with more sorrow than I anticipated. I have to turn from him and face the nearly empty parking lot as the wind whips at my face.
I bite back the need to cry and simply nod my head.
Just a blood clot. Just bad luck. There’s no one to blame or kill.
That’s what hurts the most.
“I’m sorry,” Mason says, offering his condolences again. He gives me the space I need as I walk off a few feet closer to the empty plot and I’m grateful for it.
“Your girl,” Mason starts and then clears his throat. “You’ve got to do something for her.” His voice is weak like he’s begging me.
“You’re the one who said I can’t,” I remind him as I turn back to face him. He told me not to. To not even think about texting her back. James is tracking my phone, just like we’re tracking his. He’ll know the moment I message her.
“When I asked about her being followed, you said it wasn’t your guy,” I add.
“This is different,” Mason says like it wasn’t devastating that someone could’ve been watching her. If they’re watching her, they could be setting her up. If she really felt eyes on her, that is. There’s not a hint of activity at our place and we haven’t seen anything ourselves.
“She’s not doing too well.” My blood turns to ice as I wait for him to spit it out. Not her. I swallow thickly.
“This morning she said, ‘everyone in her life dies,’” Mason tells me with a deep crease in his forehead. “She needs someone.”
“You’re the one who said she has to believe it too. That we’re over with.”
“I know, I know,” Mason says.
“So, which is it?” I practically scream, the words ripping their way up my throat. Light-headed, freezing and desperate for this all to be over, my world spins around me, too fast for me to keep a level head.
“I’m sorry, I just … it’s rough seeing her like this.” I can’t stand it. This is torture. Maybe it’s the punishment I deserve but it’s as if I’m dying from a thousand tiny cuts, and I can’t stop a single one.
With a chill hammering into my bones, I finally face Mason. My voice is ragged when I ask, “Do I go to her, or not?” If it was up to me, I would. I would hold on to her and lie in bed, denying everything and hiding away with the woman I love. All I can imagine, though, is that the door would be kicked in at some point. He’d come for me, and she’d be right there.
Mason’s expression falls and he runs a hand down his face before taking a half step closer. “My mistake, man, I’m sorry. Jules is there. She’s not going to leave her. Just … just wait a little longer.”
“How much longer?
“We don’t have shit. Lapour’s record is clean and there’s no evidence of anything. We’ll have to plant it. Including tampering with his emails and credit card data.”
“How long?” I question again, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
“Only days.”
Days … I can wait days. Everything will be right again after that, and I’ll make it better. I nod, pacing in a short circle. Just days. The seconds tick by so slowly.
“After what happened in his office …” I voice the concern that’s repeating in my head on a loop. “The way he brought her up. Like he was …”
“She’s safe. I have her locked away with Jules and she doesn’t even know it.”
“Locked away?” I ask, stopping in my tracks.
“No one’s getting into that house. And Jules knows not to take her out. If Kat wants to go somewhere,” Mason says and snaps his fingers, “there’s a security detail that’ll be on her the second the door is opened.”
“So, she’s safe?” Knowing she’s all right makes not being with her a little easier to swallow. She’s protected and that’s all that matters. I can’t lose her too.
“She’s safe and this helps take any heat off her,” Mason answers me. “We’re tracking his emails and calls, and her name hasn’t been mentioned. Yours is, though.”
I snort at the idea of James planning a hit on me. “And what’s he saying?”
“Wants eyes on you. Wants to know what you’re doing and who you’re seeing.”
My heart sinks at the thought. “Who I’m seeing,” I echo, feeling crushed. It’s like he wants me to have to stay away from her.
“Yeah,” Mason says with a defeated tone. “Could mean his ex, could mean lawyers or cops …” He doesn’t finish but I hear the unspoken addition, could mean Kat.
My resolve hardens, but it sends a shooting pain down my chest. I twist the wedding ring on my finger and look back at the grave. I’ll be buried with this ring. Either now or years from now. Forever hers.
“Call her from a different phone, just one call?” Mason suggests as I watch the men shoveling piles of dirt. “Not with your phone. From someone else’s.” I barely register Mason’s words.
“If I see her or talk to her,” I say, my words coming out as numb as my body feels, “I don’t know how I’ll walk away again.”
“It’s a tough call,” Mason says faintly.
“She’s not at risk now?” I ask him again. It’s fucked up, but part of me wants her to already be in the line of fire.
Just so I can go to her. To hold her, and take back everything. I hate myself for thinking that for even a second. I’m weak. I need to be stronger for her.
Diary Entry One
Dear Pops,
I’ve seen Kat do this a few times.
Writing a letter to talk to her parents. It’s how I knew back then that she wasn’t doing too well. I’d give her extra attention and keep a closer eye on her whenever she took out that journal. I’m not doing too well now, and I need you. Thought I’d give this a try; I don’t have anything else.
I miss you already.
If you’re with Ma, tell her I miss her too. That I love her and wish you two were here.
God, I do. I need you two.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son.
I’m so damn sorry that the last conversation we had was about how disappointed you were in me. I promise I’m trying to do what’s right. It’s so hard to know, though.
It’s too many lies to know what the truth is. Too many secrets to hold on to what’s real.
I’m afraid of losing everything. It’s like it’s all crumbling around me and I can’t stop it.
I’m so damn alone, and it’s my fault. I’m terrified to be close to anyone right now.
I need you to do me a favor. You gotta look out for Kat.
She misses you and she’s not okay.
She used to say that when she’d write, her parents would be there in some way. She said she knew they were watching. She knew they heard. I hope you can hear me now.
Can you go to her? Please?
Give her a sign that you’re there and that you love her.
I’m trying, Pops, but it’s so hard to know if I’m doing the right thing.
If I lose her too, it’s over for me. There’s nothing left.
So please, don’t watch over me. Stay with her.
I love you forever.
Chapter 15
Kat
It’s memories that hold me back,
The visions of yesterday.
Back when we were so happy,
And our faith did not yet stray.
“Thanks for meeting me here.”
“No problem,” Jake responds with a charming smile as he sits down across the booth.
We’re back at Brew Madison and not the café closer to Jake’s place. It’s “my place,” but it feels different. Everything feels a bit different now. Nothing feels like it did once; that feeling of being home isn’t the same without Evan.
“Tired of the chai?” he asks, and I have to laugh.
“No, it’s just that Jules, my friend who I’m staying with for a bit, wanted to meet across the street after we’re done, so I asked her driver bring me here.”
“Ah, gotcha. What are you guys going to do?” His question is casual as he looks up at the menu across the wall. It’s a large black chalkboard with all their drinks written in elegant flowing script. I’m pretty sure it’s not actually handwritten, but I could be wrong.
“The chai is better at your place,” I tell him and snag my caffeine-free pumpkin spice coffee from off the small table. Apparently, Maddie’s tastes have rubbed off on me. Either that or the baby has ruined my taste buds and given me a temporary sweet tooth.
He chuckles as I take a large gulp then tell him, “I think we’re getting dinner at a little Italian place Jules loves. Or maybe heading to the new bar below the hotel a few blocks over.” I shrug and add, “She hasn’t decided yet, but it’s girls’ night, so we’re doing something.”
He lays his coat over the back of his chair as he stands. “I’m going to go with straight black coffee.”
“Oh?” I ask him. “Is it one of those days?”
“You tell me,” he responds and instantly my smile falls. It’s been a week since Henry died and each day is worse than “one of those days.” They blur together and time has flown by, but somehow, it’s only been a week.
“Give me a sec?” he asks me before leaving, as if he’s checking on my well-being, gripping the back of the chair. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
My fingers play at the edge of my coffee cup. I wore lipstick today and the outline of my lips mars the white rim.
There’s a statistic I read once about how lipstick sales and alcohol sales both go up during depressions, while sales for everything else plummet.
The alcohol … well, you drink when you’re happy and you drink when you’re sad.
The lipstick is because in hard times, we just want to feel special, pretty. We want to feel like we’re worth it. As in, if we look pretty and put together, then maybe we can be.
I need to buy more lipstick, I think.
It only takes a moment of me checking my phone before he’s back with a brighter spirit and the robust smell of fresh black coffee joining him from the cup in his hand. “So, what’s going on?”
“Wow, that was fast,” I say to stall a moment longer.
“I’d rate them an A-plus for the service. I’ll have to admit that,” he answers with a pleasant smile.
I give him a soft one in return, but I can feel it breaking down as I try to formulate an answer to his question.
“Evan’s father died.” The truth rushes out and my expression crumples regardless of how hard I’m trying to keep it in place.
“Shit,” Jake murmurs beneath his breath as I desperately work to maintain my composure. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” I answer in a choked voice, refusing to cry again. “I’m dealing with it. It’s not the first time I’ve lost a family member, but it still hurts.”
“What happened?”
“It was sudden. He had a blood clot that traveled to his lungs.” As I pick up a napkin from the table and blot under my eyes, I remember the doctor’s voice and how calmly he spoke. My lashes graze the napkin as I blink and it comes back black.
“I’m sorry; I’m such a mess,” I tell him, flipping the napkin to the other side and being careful not to smudge my makeup too much.
“Don’t be.” It’s only then that I realize how close he is. He’s so warm. “Evan,” I say, blurting out his name as my tired eyes feel heavy and the need to be held makes my body hot. My fingers itch to lay across Jake’s lap. “I tried to call him and got his voicemail.”
“About his father?” Jake asks, and I find myself leaning closer to him. Jake doesn’t let on that there’s any more tension between us than usual. The air between us has shifted. It’s something closer and vulnerable. Something I should be wary of, but I need it. God, I need it.
I nod once, twisting the little shreds of the napkin I’m destroying in my lap. “The doctor called me. I was my father-in-law’s emergency contact.” My throat tightens yet again and my words are choked, thinking about how I was listed as his daughter in Henry’s phone.
“And Evan?”
“He didn’t answer.”
Jake leans back, putting a bit of distance between us and seems to question whether or not he wants to respond. He takes a heavy breath as if he’s going to, but sips his coffee instead. I study his face as he stares straight ahead.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be talking about this. I just—”
“Stop saying you’re sorry, Kat.” Jake turns his head and gazes deep into my eyes as he tells me, “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I don’t understand why anyone would make you feel like you do.”
My breath comes in shorter bursts, my heart beating faster. But all I can think about is how I wish Evan would say those words to me.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I reply, “I am sorry, though.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s just how I feel.
“Well, I’m sorry too. I’m sorry about your father-in-law. And I’m sorry your ex isn’t there for you. I’m sure he’s going through his own things, but it doesn’t seem right that he’s ignoring you like that. He’s got to know it hurts you.”
“He doesn’t feel like my ex most of the time,” I admit to Ja
ke with my eyes focused on my fingers as I continue to shred the napkin.
I’m anxious for Jake’s response. It would lift a weight and burden for someone to understand, and I feel like Jake can. Even if he can’t, I don’t think he’ll judge me. I hope he won’t.
“You’ve been married for years, right?” I nod at his question. “And you only just split?” I nod again to confirm.
“You’re going through a lot, and he’s not even talking to you. I don’t get this guy. I wouldn’t throw you away like that.”
“I don’t think he’s throwing me away so much as putting me to the side while he tries to …” An uneasy sigh slips into the silence when I can’t finish my own thought.
“I read in the papers about what he’s got going on,” Jake says, and I’m forced to look at him, my heart beating slowly as I wait for his judgment. “I don’t get how the two of you fit together, honestly.”
“We have more in common than you’d think.”
“Still have? Or had?” he asks me. Without waiting for a reply, he shakes his head. “Tell me to fuck off if you want,” he offers then closes his eyes and takes a quick sip of coffee. “I’m only here if you want to talk. And if I cross a line—”
“You’re not crossing any line,” I reassure him and find myself reaching out, letting my hand fall on top of his. Mostly for fear of him backing away and leaving me with nothing again. “I don’t talk to anyone else really.” The plea is unsaid, but Jake hears it. I’m already a burden to my friends. I know I am, even if that’s what friends are for. The one thing I know, though, is that they’ll remember everything Evan’s done, and they’ll hate him like I do right now for treating me how he has. Even if they don’t say it. So all of this animosity and worry over him and his actions? I can’t give it to them. I need someone else. Someone like Jake.
His soothing gaze assesses me and stays on mine as he tells me, “I don’t want you to get upset with me because of an opinion I have when I only know a small fraction of the truth. I know the past goes deeper than that.”
You Know I Need You: Book 2, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine Duets 4) Page 9