It’s small kindnesses that kill the pain. The tiny bits break down walls, making them crumble all because they hit at just the right spot, at just the right time.
“Just don’t hate me for still loving him,” I whisper.
“I think you still have feelings for him because you haven’t let anyone else in,” he says and leans just a bit closer to me.
If Evan would give me just a little, I wouldn’t be here. The thought flies through my mind as Jake leans forward a bit more, his gorgeous dark green, hazel eyes focused on my lips.
If Evan would only comfort me or let me comfort him, I wouldn’t have even called Jake, I think as I close my eyes and breathe in the masculine scent of Jake’s cologne. The deep forest fragrance fills my lungs as he gently presses his lips against mine.
If Evan really wanted me, if he cared about me … the thought is lost when my hands move to Jake’s hair, my fingers spearing through it as my lips part and Jake deepens the kiss.
The problem is that when my eyes are closed, I picture Evan. It’s his fingers that thread through my hair and cup the back of my head. It’s his lips pressed against mine.
The problem is when I open my eyes, it’s not Evan. No matter how much I want it to be him.
Diary Entry Three
Dear Mom,
I really could use you today. You had such great advice when I was younger.
Evan’s father passed away and I don’t know what to do. I want to be there for him because I love him even though he’s not here for me. But he didn’t want me to be there for him. Not even at the funeral. He hardly looked at me.
Mom, I think he blames me in some way. Or there’s something I don’t know. I don’t understand it. You know how you told me to be honest with my emotions? I feel like I’m dying inside. I can’t describe how badly it feels to stand near him and be completely ignored because “hurt” doesn’t do it justice. It’s an emptiness I don’t know how to fill.
I love him so much, but I cried alone in the car at the funeral. He didn’t hold me. He didn’t talk to me. He only hugged me like he hugged everyone else. Like I was no one special.
I thought for a second he would let me cry in his arms. Or that he would cry in my arms like he did when his mom died. But he didn’t. He just left.
He didn’t need me, Mom. He didn’t need me at all and it feels like I need him just to breathe.
There’s something else too. Something that you might not like. Or I don’t know, maybe you’ll like it now that you know what Evan did.
I kissed someone else.
I can’t help feeling like I’m cheating on Evan.
But if Evan doesn’t want me, it’s okay, right? It doesn’t feel okay. Separated or divorced, I still love Evan.
This guy, his name’s Jake, he treats me like he cares about me. Not that we’ve done anything really. I don’t even know him. I think I want to, though, and that scares me.
My heart belongs to Evan, but there’s someone else who wants to take it.
Seeing Evan at the funeral is what broke me.
I don’t know what to do.
I tell you that a lot, don’t I? That I don’t know what to do. But for the first time, I want to do something. I’m ready for something to change. I know you’d know what to do.
I wish you were here. I miss you. I love you.
Chapter 16
Evan
The piles of dirt are growing larger. The metal shovels pierce the frozen soil. The sound cuts through my bones, one and then another and another.
It’s been constant as I stand here helplessly. I’ve never been colder, the bitter wind and blustery snow besieging my body, but I still don’t move.
I can’t take my eyes from the two graves.
The shovels spill the dirt, the piles mounting as my eyes drift to the tombstones.
The first my father, a man who died before his time. A death of tragedy.
And then to my wife’s. My love’s. No one believes me. He put her there. James killed her.
My eyes pop open wide when I hear Kat whisper, “It’s all your fault.”
I wake up gasping for air, my heart pounding and I swear I can feel Kat’s hot breath on my neck even though I’m alone. My eyes dart around the room as I slowly lift my body into a sitting position on the bed.
Just a terror. The same as last night.
I’m quick to grab the video monitor for the security system from the nightstand and flick the button on to bring it to life. Mason set it up for me to keep a close eye on her.
It’s only when I see Kat in bed that my heart starts to calm, and my heated skin seems to succumb to the chill of reality.
She’s okay.
I close my eyes and when I open them, the monitor displays an image of her rolling over in bed. To my side. My fingers brush the glass where she is. I’ll be there soon. I’ll be with her and it’ll all be over.
It’s that promise to myself that brings me any sleep at all anymore. It’ll be over soon and then I’ll be with her.
“There’s a lot of shit you aren’t going to like,” Mason states matter-of-factly the second I close the door to his car. He doesn’t even wait for my ass to hit the seat. He’s situated outside the park and I focus on the people walking by. Moving through their day and carrying on with their lives, while mine’s slowly deteriorating into nothing.
I needed this meetup to get the fuck out of this rut and talk to someone. Even if it means hearing something I’m not going to like.
“Let’s start with the easiest.”
“You have a tail. Hired by Lapour,” he says, and his sentences are short, clipped. I nod my head. I figured as much. I’ve been scoping James out and James is doing the same in return.
“The cops are coming around your place more often too and they’ve been poking around your family home, looking through the garbage. A few tags on the station’s search engine too.”
“They’re not going to give up, are they?” It’s not really a question. The leather of the seat groans as I lay my head back.
“They just need one thing to pin it on you.”
“James has the evidence they’d need to do it.” The photos come to mind and anxiousness makes my chest tighten. I’m waking up to heart palpitations and I’m constantly exhausted, but not able to sleep. My right leg rocks from side to side as Mason speaks.
“We can wipe them from his computer, but the hard copies will have to wait until tomorrow. My associate will ensure the place is clean, but then he’ll know.”
“That works. Whatever it costs.”
“It takes time to get a batch of drugs that matches,” Mason says and I know it’s not about the money. It’s about the time and executing it correctly.
“It would have been easier if we’d found it on him,” I say, stating the obvious.
“Yeah, it would have,” he agrees and then it’s quiet.
“I’m failing. All this money paying other people to do shit and we’re coming up empty.”
“You’re doing everything you can.”
I can’t stand the waiting anymore. “I want this over with,” I confide in him. A couple days turned into a week. And now the weeks are bleeding into one another.
“I’m walking around this city,” I tell him, “stalking a man who should be dead. I need to do something.” It’s killing me to wait, driving me fucking crazy. I can practically feel my sanity slipping away.
“You have to be careful when you … take care of someone,” he says as if I’m being impatient. “If you’re reckless, you get caught.
“Besides, I don’t have anything on James. Not a shred of evidence that shows he purchased the fentanyl.”
“We need evidence or to set him up if there isn’t any. Or we can just murder him and end it all.” The thought has been festering in the back of my skull. Picking away at me. I just want to kill the fucker and be done with this.
“You kill him before it’s ready, and the cops will be looking for his
murderer. Is that what you want?”
I know he’s right, and I can’t answer. I respond with the only thing that matters. “I need my wife back.”
“That’s the other thing,” he tells me while looking out his window.
“What thing?” I question, a deep groove settling down the center of my brow as I stare at the back of his head, willing him to look at me. “About my wife?”
“She’s seeing someone,” he answers and it’s like white noise.
“You’re wrong.” Time slows. She isn’t. There’s no way she’s seeing someone.
“She went out yesterday and we kept an eye on her like I promised you we would. My guys saw some things.”
That’s when a man’s face comes back to me. My hands clench into tight fists at my side as I shake my head. Jacob whatever the fuck his last name is. My breathing comes in ragged pants as he says, “Jacob Scott is his name. A potential client of hers.”
“Not my wife,” I say, biting out the words although I already know it’s true. “She’s not going to move on so fast.”
The worst part is that I don’t even blame her. I’m dying inside. Every night I think about how my father should still be here and my wife should be in bed with me. Instead I’m alone, clutching a fucking T-shirt Pops always wore. He gave it to me when he gained a little weight and it didn’t fit him any longer. It’s just a shirt from a shop he used to work at. The shop’s not around anymore.
I didn’t give a shit about it back then, it was just a shirt, but all I can see when I hold it now is him. It’s funny how the little things that don’t matter are the most sentimental when you lose the ones you love.
That’s my life. Hiding away and mourning my father alone. Hating myself and not being able to fix it all. I can’t fix a damn thing.
“I told you she wasn’t doing well,” Mason says like I should have known better.
My teeth grind against each other as I seethe. “I can’t do both at the same time, lead her on that we’re broken up, but also be there for her.” Pounding my fist against the window once like a madman, I hold on to the anger. I’ll prolong every other emotion I can until I’m forced to deal with it at night when sleep refuses to comfort me. I know I must look like I’m fucking unhinged, but I am. So, I suppose it’s fitting. “I can’t protect her and have her in my life at the same time. There’s no way for me to do it!” Exasperation gets the better of me.
“Well, if you’re not there for her, someone else will be.”
My heart’s in my throat. That’s the only explanation for what I feel. It’s not in my chest where it’s supposed to be. Only pain lingers there.
“I want to kill him. That Jacob fuck.”
“Now I know that one isn’t serious.”
“He’s seeing my wife!” I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming, but Mason doesn’t react.
He’s silent as my rage slowly subsides.
“What would you do?” I ask him out of desperation as I imagine her calling him. Alone and desperate for someone to take away her pain.
Mason answers with a shrug, “Kill the asshole.”
“You’re a real wiseass, you know that?”
“It could be worse,” he says.
“How’s that?”
“She cried for a while when she got back from dinner with Jules.”
I wait for him to continue, not understanding. “Why was she crying?”
“After seeing the guy, she cried all night. She’s not moving on. She’s not okay, Evan.”
“What am I supposed to do? She’s everything to me. And all I can see, all I dream about at night is her dying because of me.” Mason doesn’t answer me.
No one has an answer for me. “If I lose her, I have nothing. There’s no reason to live if I don’t have her.”
“You could always go with the locking her in a room option. She likes her office, right?” Mason jokes and I don’t know whether to thank him for lightening the mood, or punch his fucking face in.
“Do you think James would go after her if I took her back?” I ask him. “Tell me honestly.”
“If someone wanted to hurt you, the first thing they’d do is go after her.” Mason says exactly what I already knew, and I rest my head against the window.
“He still might, but the chance of that seems low. Right now, James is only interested in three people: you, Samantha, and a man named Andrew Jones. Obviously, a cover.”
Before I can ask, Mason adds, “We’re paying him a visit soon. As soon as we track down his location.”
I nod, agreeing with the plan, but all I can think about is that prick with his hands on my wife.
“What if we paid Jacob a visit?”
“You really think that’s the way to go? Like Kat won’t find out?” he asks me, and I grit my teeth.
“What if she goes home? What if you go home? Just be quiet about it. Rent a hotel room and make sure you’re seen there for your tail. But go to her at night and make sure she keeps quiet.”
“Kat can’t keep a secret for shit.”
“She’s talking about going back home anyway. You’re going to need to be there.”
“You think she’d be okay with me just slipping in at night? Maybe if I told her what’s going on. But in and out, coming and going as I please? She’d kill me.”
“Don’t tell her shit. Are you fucking crazy?”
“Lie to her? Kat’s always been able to see right through me. Lying is what made all this worse.”
“I’m not saying lie to her. I’m just saying this is how it has to be. Right now, she needs comfort … She’ll take what you can give her.”
“James thinks you’re with Samantha, so be seen with her, then head over to your place.”
The very idea of being seen with Samantha makes my stomach coil. “You want my wife to hate me?”
“It’s the only real option you have right now,” he says and looks me in the eyes to add, “She’ll never know.”
He’s a fool to think that. She’ll find out. There’s no fucking way I’m going to do that to her. She deserves better than that.
Chapter 17
Kat
I have to tell Evan about Jake, but he doesn’t want to talk to me.
He’s ignoring me. Intentionally hurting me.
Yet there’s still a sense of obligation. As if I owe it to him to let him know that I’m moving on now. I’ve finally got a grip on my self-respect, but I need him to know it. I roll my eyes at the thought and heave out an aggravated sigh.
I don’t care if it’s weak or pathetic. He was everything to me.
I nearly trip as I realize what I thought. Was.
Is it really over? I struggle to breathe in the cold air as I think maybe a small part of me wants to move on. No, that’s not it. It’s simply accepting that it’s time to move on.
Say something, I’m giving up on you … song lyrics play through my head as my throat dries and I force myself to keep walking up the sidewalk to 82 Brookside. Evan’s family home.
The sad lyrics of the soft song are what keep me from knocking on his door at first. I attempt to compose myself because if Evan doesn’t open this door, or worse, he does but doesn’t hear me out? Then I have no hope left.
I know deep down in my gut, this is my last and final effort.
Say something, I’m giving up on you … and then the melody stops, a feminine voice cutting through. The voice of a woman I recognize. Sadness freezes over, replaced quickly by something … more gruesome.
Samantha.
I hear her laugh and then a muted voice. His voice. She’s in there with him. Shock keeps me paralyzed. I listen a moment longer, denying it at first.
The only movement I can make is to hide my hands in my coat pockets as the winter wind brutalizes me. I thought my heart was already broken. Apparently, it was only torn because at this moment, there’s no denying my heart’s been ripped ruthlessly in half.
I’m numb as I stand in the harsh
cold, trying to listen to the faint sounds as I lean my body toward the window to my right. I can barely see her, and I can’t see him at all.
There’s no way I can make out what they’re saying, but I watch her put on her coat.
It’s funny how anger can so easily replace sadness. Almost like rock paper scissors. Anger beats sadness, sadness beats … I don’t know what, and in this moment, I don’t care in the least.
My heartbeat rages; my breathing shallows as I watch that woman I once trusted standing in Evan’s parents’ home. He can’t really be with her.
Time passes, maybe a minute more before I come to terms with it.
What a fucking fool I was.
This is why he left me. Of course. My breathing falters as I take a few steps back from the door, my warm breath turning to fog in front of me. Shoving my hair out of my face, I collect myself before I can fully fall apart.
With my arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, I hug myself as I walk aimlessly down the street. My shoes crunch the thin layer of fallen snow beneath my feet as I get farther and farther away. I let my mind whirl and my emotions stir into a concoction of self-doubt and recklessness.
“He thought I would wait for him while he had one last fling?” I whisper under my breath but then shake my head. “Maybe he’s trying to pick which one of us he wants …”
Like a madwoman I talk to myself, ignoring the horns honking and cars speeding along the street next to me. I let out a sarcastic laugh and think, his choice is made.
He already left me, and I already told him it was over.
How dumb can I really be?
My hands fumble inside of my jacket as I turn the street corner. I bite down on the fabric of my glove and pull it off so I can unlock my phone.
Evan’s cheating on me. I tell Jules first. I’ve talked to her more than anyone else since she’s welcomed me into her house.
No, he can’t be! She’s quick to respond and I find myself standing still in the middle of the busy sidewalk, texting her back. Everyone walks around me, ignoring me and my mental breakdown.
You Know I Need You: Book 2, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine Duets 4) Page 10