Love Until It Hurts (Crazy Love Book 2)

by Carmen DeSousa

  I shook my head at his use of Spanish and his unwillingness to believe me. “You don’t understand. He takes abortion personally, as an affront to his very life. He was supposed to be aborted, but someone changed his mother’s mind. He’s lived with the knowledge that she never wanted him, that his father never wanted him …”

  “You still love him!” Brock accused.

  I shook my head wildly. “I don’t. I swear. But he’ll always be my friend …” I thought about how distraught Nathan had been at the party. How he’d cried. Morgan aborting his child was the worst possible thing she could have done to him. Morgan had said that the father had not wanted anything to do with her and the baby, and that was a lie. Nathan never would have abandoned his baby. So Morgan seduced Nathan because Jesse dumped her, but then she didn’t want the baby. Even Jesse had said he couldn’t stop her. “I have to go!”

  I ran out the door, waiting for Brock to follow, but he just stood there, shaking his head.

  “Fine!” I screamed. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  Brock just shook his head again. “I won’t be here when you get back, Charity.”

  “Brock …” I moaned. “I swear … I don’t want to get back with him. I don’t love him. But I have to stop him.”

  Brock simply nodded. “Do what you have to do.”

  Chapter 15 – Brock

  Charity charged out the door, and I was sure she’d just taken what had been left of my heart and crushed it.

  Maybe she was right from the beginning. Maybe there was such a thing as fate, and we kept pushing something that was never going to happen.

  I stared down at the broken window and glass. I had to get out of here. If a cop walked by, I certainly would be arrested.

  After changing back into my clothes, I ran out of the house as fast as I could and headed for the road. It’d take me five hours to walk home. And while the weather was mild inland, it was rather cold on the beach. Just what I needed … to walk five hours in the cold, especially with my hair wet from the pool. Hypothermia would definitely set in. Not knowing where else to turn, I pulled out my phone and did the last thing I ever thought I would: I returned Cat’s call from earlier. Then again, Charity was with her ex.

  “Brock!” Caitlyn squealed. “Happy New Year, baby! I was hoping you’d call me.”

  I didn’t like how happy she sounded. “Happy New Year, Cat. Where are you?”

  “Ybor! Wanna come?”

  Abhorred by the thought, I shouted above the din in the background as I asked, “Are you drinking?”

  “No worries, baby. I got the Uber app.”

  I ground my teeth together. Same old Caitlyn. All she thought about was herself. “Cat, you said you were pregnant.”

  “I’ve only had a couple,” she whined. “A couple won’t hurt me when I’m only four months along.”

  “Who the hell told you that?” I swiped my hand across my brow. If the baby was mine, she was killing it. How could I protect my unborn child? “Cat, call for your ride now. I’ll meet you at your house.”

  “Seriously?” she shrieked. “Okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  My stomach plunged. What had I just done? “Maybe saved your unborn child’s life, that’s what!” I said aloud.

  Uber . Why hadn’t I thought of Uber? I searched the app store on my phone for the service, added all the info, and waited. Within minutes I got a message.

  Twenty minutes later, I sat in Caitlyn’s driveway. God help me, what was I doing? Saving your child, I reminded myself. If it’s my child … Then again, even if a baby wasn’t mine and I saw someone pour liquor down his throat, I’d stop them.

  Forty minutes later, no ex-wife.

  Sixty minutes later, still no Caitlyn.

  The thought of Charity driving to Nathan assaulted my stomach again. I’d witnessed the last time Nathan threatened to kill himself. He’d been fine, then he’d turned on the whining. How could she run to him? Still, the thought of her driving all that way on New Year’s Eve. I pulled out my phone and texted her. Call me when you can. I need to know you’re okay.

  I pocketed my phone as a black car with a blue Ford emblem on the front pulled into the driveway. With my hand held up to shield my eyes from the headlights, I tried to make out the driver, wondering if it was the punk I’d seen her with in our bed. The back door swung open, and Caitlyn stumbled out, staggered in the wrong direction of the door, and ended up sprawled out on the grass.

  The driver lowered the window, but I waved him off. “I got her. It’s not the first time.”

  “You her husband?” the man called. “She said she was meeting her husband.”

  “Yeah,” was the easiest answer. No need to explain to this stranger that, technically, I was her ex-husband.

  “Okay … Just making sure.”

  “Thanks, dude.” I picked up Caitlyn and carried her to the porch. “What the hell, Cat?”

  Her head lolled back, and she blinked up at me. “Heeeeyyyy, Brocky. Love you.”

  I propped her up on the bench by the door so I could dig the house keys out of her purse. “Sure you do. More like, you love to party.” Without a doubt, Caitlyn’s drinking had probably played a role in her infidelity. I reached down to pick her up again, but she pushed my hands aside as she stood up, then fell forward. I caught her, but she waved her hands in front of her like a bratty kid, which she was.

  “I can walk!” she insisted, jerking away from me. She stood straight, steadying herself against the doorframe. Once inside, she made a beeline for the couch. It was impossible not to notice her swollen belly. It was only a little bump, but there wasn’t any doubt. Caitlyn was really pregnant.

  Sadness washed over me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sniffed. “Dammit, Cat.”

  She fell back on the couch. “What?”

  No matter how I felt about her, if the baby was mine, I had to do something. But what? I crossed the room and sat beside her. “Is it really mine, Cat?”

  “I told you …” she slurred. Her head lolled forward, then it looked as though she were trying to get up.

  A couple of drinks, my ass. Knowing what was coming next, I picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. I set her in front of the toilet, then pulled her long auburn hair away from her face as she emptied her stomach. As disgusting as it was, it was probably for the best. Maybe some of the alcohol wouldn’t get to the baby. I could only hope.

  Chapter 16 – Charity

  12:00. The glowing green numbers on my dash reminded me that it was a new year as I drove onto the Skyway Bridge.

  I hated this bridge. Hated driving over it. Even as a child when my parents drove, I’d closed my eyes, fearing that one wrong move would send the car careening over the short barrier that lined the bridge. Looking up at the cables that soared hundreds of feet into the air had always made me dizzy.

  Even when I’d gone on a cruise and everyone had been excited to pass beneath the bridge that spanned the mouth of Tampa Bay, I’d fretted, watching as the stacks on the cruise ship barely cleared within what looked like feet of the bottom of the bridge.

  For the first time since I’d left Clearwater Beach, I let up on the gas pedal. Every time I’d called Nathan since I got in the car, he hadn’t answered. I’d ignored Brock’s call a couple seconds ago, only because I knew I was near the bridge.

  Was Brock right? Was Nathan playing me?

  I hit the redial button on my steering wheel to call Nathan again. Still nothing. “Dammit, Nathan! What are you trying to prove? And why the hell am I here?” I screamed. “I should be celebrating New Year’s Eve. With Brock. Not allowing you to control me, as you always have!” Why was I so stupid?

  At the top, I slammed on my brakes as Nathan’s Honda came into view. I pulled up behind it and jumped out. The lights were on, but I couldn’t see him.

  “Oh, no!” I screamed. “No, Nathan! You wouldn’t have.” I stared up at the bright red phone under a sign that read Emergency Crisis Cou
nseling. If suicides were a regular occurrence, why were the sides of the bridge so low? As I ran back to my car, I peered over, not knowing what I expected to see. Hopefully Nathan hanging on, performing some daredevil stunt.

  My stomach plunged, and my hands broke into a sweat. The bridge was so high above the water. All I could see were a few tiny dots of light in white, red, and green. The lights were in a near perfect circle. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Lights on boats maybe? Was it possible that a fisherman could have seen him jump?

  Tears poured from my eyes. “Why? Why would you do this, Nathan?” I grabbed my phone out of the cupholder and ran back to Nathan’s car as I dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1. Police, fire, or medic?” a woman answered.

  A cry burst out of my throat. “Help him!”

  “Ma’am? What’s your emergency?”

  “My … Nathan. I think … I … he just jumped off the Skyway.”

  The woman spat out a slur of words, but only one registered with my brain.

  Safe? Had she asked if Nathan was, Safe? “No,” I tried to push out, but I wasn’t sure if the word left my mouth. Nathan wasn’t safe. He’d never been safe.

  The wind whipped at my face, drowning out her next question. Why would she ask, Anyone else?

  “No …” I tried to make my lips form the word. No one else had ever cared about Nathan. I was the only one who cared. He’d told me that over and over.

  The woman was still talking, and all I wanted was for her to find him. “Did you see?” I thought she said, but the question didn’t make sense. Why wasn’t she helping? Why would she care if I saw this coming? No, I didn’t know he’d gotten Morgan pregnant. I didn’t know it was Nathan’s baby Morgan had aborted.

  Angered, I dropped the phone to my side, stumbling back to Nathan’s car. Maybe it was a game. Maybe he was hiding, hoping I’d find him. A way to get attention. My phone rang again, and I stared at it.

  Cars whizzed by, not bothering to stop. How many passersby had seen Nathan get out of his car and climb over the barrier, and yet, hadn’t stopped?

  Would I have stopped? I hadn’t stopped earlier. I hadn’t taken his threat as real. Maybe he just wanted to know that someone cared. If I’d just answered his text, maybe I could have convinced him.

  I dropped to my knees. “Why, Nathan?”

  Swirling blue lights surrounded me. Then thumps. Then shouts. Then something clawed at my skin. But I was numb. I blinked, trying to bring the world into focus.

  More shouts came. Beams of light blinded me. Then finally, a welcoming cloud of darkness drew near, enveloping me. The dense cloud blocked out the unwelcoming light. I closed my eyes, welcoming the reprieve from the swirling blue and bright white beams, and from Nathan’s cries to forgive him. The thumps dissipated. Then, the shouts faded into nothingness.

  But the cries continued. I wasn’t sure if they were Nathan’s cries or my own that the cloud of darkness refused to blot out. As if in a nightmare, my arms and legs refused to move. If only I could cover my ears, or run away, I could escape the wails of grief.

  Chapter 17 – Brock

  After finally coaxing Caitlyn off the bathroom floor and into her bed, I tried to call Charity again. Why had I let her go alone? Regardless of how childish I thought her ex was, I shouldn’t have let her leave — again.

  As the previous times, her phone rang four times before going to voicemail, so she wasn’t hitting decline, and her phone wasn’t dead. So, what was going on? Was she lying dead in a ditch somewhere after some intoxicated driver ran her off the road? Or was she with Nathan?

  The thought of Charity going back to her ex after telling me she loved me … after we’d been inches away from making love, sent a fire through me as I’d never experienced with any woman.

  When I’d caught Caitlyn in bed, I had simply shaken my head and walked out. Driven to my mother’s house until I decided what to do.

  But right now, I wanted to hit something. I wanted to grab Nathan and throw him off the Skyway myself.

  Decision made, I snatched Caitlyn’s keys off the coffee table and headed for the garage. I’d be back before she woke up.

  The Santorini black Range Rover, a color Caitlyn had chosen, she said, because she wanted to go to Greece, sat impressively inside the garage I had customized with a handmade workbench and shelving to hold my tools. A place where I could build and create, and teach my children that there was more to life than the mall and video games, and especially more to life than being in a gang. Now my power tools and everything else I owned that wouldn’t fit in my tiny apartment were rotting away in a storage unit, and unless I did something with my life I would never have the backyard I always imagined for my children.

  As I backed out of the garage, the realization that I’d only be able to see my child part time assaulted my heart. All my life, I’d sworn that I’d never be away from my children the way my father had always been. If it weren’t for my mother, always making sure I was home for dinner every night, tracking me down if I wasn’t, no telling what I would have ended up doing to fit in, to become a full-fledged member.

  How could I allow Caitlyn to raise my child, knowing her primary concerns in life were getting her nails done and getting drunk? Not that I had a problem with painted nails and a few drinks; I didn’t. But Caitlyn was so scatterbrained she’d probably leave a child inside a sweltering car, thinking, It’s only for a few minutes.

  The idea made me sick, but what could I do? I was in love with Charity, and even if I wasn’t, I’d never be able to forgive Caitlyn, never be able to hold her again without thinking of the lard-ass she’d brought into our home. Into our bed.

  With a shake of my head, I concentrated on the road, on getting to Charity. I hit Charity on my phone’s Favorite s screen, praying that she’d pick up this time.

  The line connected, but it wasn’t Charity’s voice I heard.

  “Hello?” the mystery man asked again, his tone carrying a note of worry.

  Oh, God! “I’m looking … for Charity,” I choked out.

  “Are you a relation?”

  No. God, no! “I’m …” I struggled for an answer that would give me the info I needed. “I’m Brock Ryan, Charity’s … fiancé.”

  “Yes. Thank you. I see that she has your name listed in her phone. We’ve been trying to notify her next of kin, but the entries marked Mom and Dad keep going to voicemail —”

  “What’s going on?” I cut in. “Charity lives with me,” I lied again, knowing it was the only way to get answers.

  “Thank you, sir. Charity called 9-1-1 from the Skyway Bridge. When we got here, she was incoherent. We’re en route to the emergency room right now.”

  I blew out a breath. Thank you, Lord! Charity was alive. But still, I had to make sure she wasn’t in the same condition that my sister had been — I’d kill Charity’s ex if he laid a hand on her. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

  “We had to restrain her when she came to, as she was trying to jump out of the ambulance, but yes, she’s okay physically.”

  I released another breath of relief. “Where are you taking her?”

  “We’re pulling into Bayfront Medical Center right now.”

  “Thank you,” I said and disconnected the call, immediately typing Bayfront into my maps. I still had eighteen minutes, so I called my mother.

  “Mi’jo?” her tired voice answered. “Estás bien?”

  “Mai!” I cried out to the only person I could be myself with. “Please pray for Charity.”

  “Sí, Mi’jo. Voy a hacer en este momento.”

  If there was one thing I could count on, it was that if my mother said she’d pray right now, she would. No matter if it was the middle of the night, I knew she’d already be on her knees. My mother was a prayer warrior. I wished I had the same faith in prayer. “Thank you, Mai. I love you.”

  “Yo también te amo.”

  Tears flooded my eyes as I disconnected the phone. I knew I should have asked for pray
er for Nathan, too, but considering what the paramedic said about Charity’s state of mind, Nathan had jumped. Or, at least Charity believed that he’d jumped. I still had my doubts.

  After finding a parking spot, I rushed through the exterior doors leading to the ER. I looked at the lady in reception without approaching her, keeping my strides in the direction of the ER doors. “My fiancée was brought in via an ambulance,” I called without breaking my pace.

  “Sir,” the woman called as I approached the doors, but a man on the other side opened the door, allowing me to enter. In my upscale clothes, I guessed I didn’t look like a threat. Last time I’d rushed into the ER, I’d still been in my work clothes and I’d been stupid enough to wait for someone to assist me while my sister had been half-dead. I had to live with the knowledge that if I hadn’t been part of a gang, my sister never would have gotten involved with one of the gang members, and she wouldn’t have been attacked, nearly stabbed to death when she’d broken up with him.

  I shook my head to clear it again. Would I ever catch a break, or would my life continue to be one upset after another? I dropped my head, wondering if that was how Nathan had felt? It was wrong for me to judge him without even knowing him. Didn’t I despise people who did that to me? It was no wonder Nathan was so upset. If I’d seen Charity hanging all over another man, after I’d been stupid enough to lose her, I’d be mad too.

  Even though the security guard had let me through the doors, he rested his hand on my shoulder as I stepped past him. “Can I help you?” His nametag had Security written beneath his name: Carlos.

  “Yes. My fiancée was just brought here in an ambulance.”

  Carlos pointed down the hall. “Take a left at the corner. I’ll radio back that you’re on your way. What’s the patient’s name?”

  “Charity. Charity Bauer.”

  Chapter 18 – Charity

  Cold. From my fingers all the way down to my toes, my body ached from the icy dampness that surrounded me. I tried to reach for a blanket, but my arms felt heavy, disconnected, as though they might not exist.