Never Let Go (The Storm Inside #4)

by Alexis Anne

  But not anymore.

  Actually those days had been gone for about six years. From the moment I got pregnant with Sam, one or both of us had been knocked up. At first we replaced alcohol with expensive chocolate—a totally awesome substitute—but eventually exhaustion and crazy schedules took relaxed, quiet evenings pouring out our hearts off the table.

  Now I either squeezed into her office, or she squeezed into mine. Being friends during working hours seemed to be the only alone time we could get. We had a standing bi-weekly date for sushi and manicures (or a movie) but neither of us ever felt comfortable going deep into personal issues with strange sets of prying eyes and ears hanging on our every word.

  So here I was, on her couch where her client’s parent’s normally sat, nervously drumming my fingers and staring at the mostly closed blinds. “He’s distant,” I sighed. “He’s in his head.”

  “Has he been to see Phyllis?”

  Phyllis was his new therapist. Jennie knew her pretty well, so she always referred to her by her first name, which of course always threw me for a loop because to us she was Dr. Scalzo.

  “Twice already. That’s bad right?”

  Jennie smiled and shook her head, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her. “No, that’s good. It sounds like he has a lot to unpack and he wants to do it fast.”

  “Too fast?”

  Jennie sighed. “Two appointments in a week is not too fast with the kind of crap he’s dealing with.”

  I slumped back against the cushion. She was right. I knew she was right, but it didn’t freak me out any less. “I’m talking to you because he’s not talking to me.”

  “And that’s why you’re scared.”

  I winced, but she was right. I was scared silly. Jake pulling away from me and keeping his thoughts to himself had never led anywhere good.

  “How do I get him to start moving those stubborn lips of his?”

  “You don’t.”

  I gave her a pained expression. “That is not the advice I’m looking for.”

  She shrugged. “Suck it up buttercup. He will talk when he’s ready to talk. He’s talking to his therapist, that needs to be enough for right now.”

  “When should I worry?” It had been a long, long time since I was this worked up over Jake’s wellbeing.

  Jennie was quiet and when I looked over, my eyes collided with hers. “Can I stop being a professional right now and just be your best friend?”

  “Please.” I needed less logic and more commiserating.

  “This is fucked up. I’m worried. I’m worried about him, but I’m also worried about you. You’re so focused on him that you’re ignoring yourself.”

  “Huh?”

  She slid forward to the edge of her chair and leaned onto her elbows. “We both know traveling with kids is stressful enough for a month of therapy right there.”

  “True.” Jennie’s kids did not travel as well as mine did, but it was still so hard. So much work no matter how good or wild your kids behave in constricted social situations.

  “Then you added in visiting family—estranged family—family that is still keeping secrets from you both. And then they betrayed you.” She folded her hands together. “Not just Jake. You. And the girls.”

  My shoulders slumped. She was right. I was completely ignoring everything I was feeling and hiding behind Jake. “I’m so mad at them I could scream.”

  With everything they’d already done, how had they thought more lies and secrets would be a good idea? Or maybe that was the only way they knew how to do anything. Either way, I was pissed and wanted nothing to do with them ever again.

  “You should be mad. That was seriously insane.” Jennie was basically giving me permission to rant and throwing a little gasoline on the fire to make sure I burned good and long.

  She was such a good friend.

  “I don’t even know what to do. I want to exact some sort of retribution, but I can’t. What on earth would I do?”

  We named a half dozen ridiculous and totally illegal things, then I sighed. “Yeah, I feel a little bit better now.”

  She smiled. “Good. I do to.”

  “You weren’t there.”

  “Solidarity, my sister. Solidarity.”

  I had the best friends a girl could ever ask for. “I want to have everyone over for dinner, but I think Jake needs a little more time before I smother him with love.”

  “I have a crazy couple of weeks anyway. How about a month from now?”

  I whipped out my phone and tentative plans were arranged. I sent calendar invites to Greg and Jake, and instantly got their acceptance. “Looks like we’re on.”

  “It will be good,” she reassured me. “Give him time, do whatever it is you do, then we’ll all come together as a family and set everything right.”

  Family. Our real family. The one we’d created with these wonderful people.

  I gave her one more squeeze, double checked our plan for manicures, then kissed her belly. “I will see you in three months, Eve.”

  “Her name is not going to be Eve.”

  “Andrew agrees with me. You had your shot with daughter number one, don’t fail me a second time.”

  In all fairness, Megan was named after Andrew’s mother. That was the beautiful and correct thing to do. But now the fun and games were over. Aunt Eve needed a namesake.

  She pushed me out the door. “Go away you crazy ego maniac. I will name my daughter something beautiful and feminine. Like Sawyer.” And now she was teasing me about our unconventional name choices for our girls.

  “I think that’s perfect. Goodbye Sawyer!”

  Jennie glared at me. “Out!”

  I WAS MORE than a little bit shocked when the mysterious end of day meeting Josh had suddenly booked me into turned out to be Jake.

  “Mrs. Spencer, I believe I’m your three o’clock?” Jake grinned as he leaned up against my open door. His hands were shoved into his suit pants while his jacket and shirt were both open as if he’d lazily loosened everything after a particularly trying day of meetings.

  It took my brain one…two…three seconds to fully digest everything. Then it hit me at all once. Jake was my mysterious appointment. And, since I seemed incapable of speech, I pushed back from my desk and wrapped him up in a hug.

  He sighed and enveloped me in his strong arms, dropping a soft kiss on the top of my head. “It’s been too long since I’ve done this.”

  “It’s been forever.” I didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, more like longing, and I froze while I waited to see how Jake took it.

  “I figured that since I’ve been zoned out for a while, now was a good time to start it back up.”

  I relaxed and nodded. “I like it. Come in.”

  He closed my door with his foot, not letting me go. Instead we made out right where we were. “Can we move to the desk?”

  I smiled up at him, pulling him over to where my large wood desk sat in the middle of my large office. I’d moved twice in the last few years, but the desk always came with me. I told everyone else it was because I hated change and liked my desk just the way it was, but that wasn’t the real reason. My attachment to the desk was sentimental. Jake and I had made up there, and there, and there. There three times.

  “I think about that first orgasm every single time I look at this desk,” he whispered in my ear.

  I shivered. “Me too.” The image of Jake behind me desperately sucking and…wow…I needed to banish those thoughts during working hours immediately.

  He sat on the edge and pulled me between his thighs. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”

  “It’s okay, you’ve got a lot to sort through. I just wish you’d let me in a little.”

  He nodded slowly. “I know. I can see the hurt in your eyes. I feel like an ass.”

  “Don’t,” I sighed. “That’s not what I’m thinking. I just want to make you happy and if I don’t know exactly what’s going on up here,” I ran my index finger along hi
s brow, “then I’m fighting blind.”

  “I’m trying it’s just—” he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking or feeling half the time, so I don’t know how to share it with you.”

  “You’re like one of those giant super computers churning a metric ton of data.”

  That got a chuckle out of him. “You’re not wrong. Dr. Scalzo said I’m still processing and I’m locked in a loop, going over the same data over and over trying to make sense of it.”

  “And talking to me won’t help because you haven’t sorted it enough to have anything to say.” I was back to feeling helpless.

  He kissed my forehead. “I’m angry. Angrier than I’ve been since I came back stateside. I don’t like it.”

  Anger was one of the major reasons he’d left me for so long. I couldn’t admit it to myself, but hearing that terrified me. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d always worried would take Jake away from me again.

  “You should be angry,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “You have every right to be angry—I want you to know that. And I think fighting it, trying to be not angry, is exactly what will make you explode.”

  He was looking down now, so I leaned forward to rest my forehead against his, connecting us even more. We stood like that for a minute or two, feeding off the energy surging between us.

  “I don’t know which is more dangerous, Eve. Letting it out or keeping it in. I don’t want to hurt you or the girls.”

  I think my heart broke a little. “I know you hate yourself when you let the anger win. I read your journals, remember?” He nodded. “But keeping it in is going to be a thousand times worse.”

  I could see the internal fight taking place inside Jake. The boiling anger he was so afraid of mixed with the loathing he felt for the man-child who’d run to the other side of the world. He’d come to peace with his past, but now that the past had come storming back into his life, the peace was over.

  “What do I do?” he whispered.

  That was the problem. I didn’t have a clue.

  10

  JAKE

  Jake’s Journal

  When your father dies you’re supposed to feel something. That’s human nature.

  I don’t feel human anymore.

  I don’t feel anything. And the things I do think I feel are so terrifying to me I can’t allow them to exist. Fuck. I’m so screwed up. Even from the damn grave that man has the power to skew my reality and make me question everything I think I know.

  When I got the news it was like someone attached a vacuum to my heart and sucked everything out. I’m empty inside—so empty it feels like my skin is going to collapse in and I’ll be crushed into a ball of nothingness.

  It reminds me a lot of the night of our college graduation. I think that was the night I picked my reality once and for all. In choosing one, I had to destroy the other. I’d come to terms with the fact that my dad had brainwashed me, and my life with Eve was more real and a hell of a lot healthier than anything I’d ever known before, but two worlds can’t exist in the same universe. As long as I was in college they both just sort of phased in and out. That night they collided and if I didn’t pick one, they’d destroy each other…leaving me with nothing.

  The choice was so easy. Eve. Always Eve.

  But once I got started, I couldn’t stop. Instinct took over. I had to destroy the world my dad created. It was the most out of control and inhuman thing I’d ever felt. When it was done, I was empty.

  So fucking empty.

  I didn’t know who I was—terrified I’d do to Eve what my dad had done to me—because I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. I wasn’t sure I was real.

  How I feel right now is pretty fucking close to that. Am I real? Am I human? How can my father be dead and I feel nothing except something I refuse to put into words. In my head it does not matter that my father was a controlling, manipulative, physical abuser and mental manipulator. It doesn’t matter that he used me as his toy. My brain and my humanity are telling me I’m supposed to feel things I don’t feel. He used to tell me I wasn’t good enough for anyone—that I wasn’t fit for the world.

  That’s exactly how I feel right now.

  “And the hydraulics can handle salt water?” Greg asked the design team at our afternoon meeting. We were reviewing a new system to help control temporary flooding.

  “These are designed to be a short term solution, not a permanent one. Yes, they can handle the salt water,” Ron said.

  “Excellent. Move ahead with the prototype. I’d like to have it tested and in production before hurricane season.” Greg pushed back from the table, effectively ending the meeting. He cornered me before I could escape. “My office. Now.”

  I’d been waiting for this. He’d been watching me for weeks, but not saying anything. The disastrous dinner party last month had been the final straw. Apparently being a grumpy jerk to your friends and wife was grounds for an ass kicking from Greg.

  And honestly? I was looking forward to it. I wanted him to tell me what a low life I’d become. I knew it was bad that I wanted the punishment, but even I could see I was in an out of control spiral and was probably weeks away from achieving lost cause status.

  He shut the door firmly, but didn’t slam it. That was a good sign.

  “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  Never mind. I sat on the small couch he kept along the wall, clasped my hands, and waited for more.

  Instead he stared at me for a good long while.

  “Seriously,” he threw his hands up. “You’re literally going to sit there and take it?”

  I shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Fuck!” he leaned back and groaned. “This is so much worse than I thought it was.”

  At least we were both in agreement on that. “The last thing I ever wanted was to give my mother the satisfaction of knowing she’d fucked me over one last time—fucked Eve over, too—but here we are. She got to me…just by accepting their invitation.”

  “And now you’re beating yourself up over the fact that you let her get to you? That’s fucked up, dude.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” I yelled. “She did get to me. I should have been stronger than this.”

  Greg stared at me, eyes wide, mouth hanging open like some sort of carnival clown. “You may be an idiot. And you damn well may be a jack-off. But weak? I’m gonna have to knock your ass out for even thinking it.”

  Didn’t he get it? All that work…all those years was washed away in a single moment. All it took was my mother and her family being oblivious to reality. I should be able to forgive and forget the Senator’s selfish stupidity, but I couldn’t. I was stuck being angry that despite everything, they still didn’t get it.

  And my mother? She hadn’t flown to Maine for a family reunion with her estranged parents. Any lingering hope I’d had for that had been obliterated when Adam called to check in on me. He detailed the smugness with which my dear mother relished the news that Eve and I had taken the kids and left the moment we heard she was coming. She barely paid any attention to the Senator or Rose except to toss them a few insults she’d probably been storing up for a few decades, ate as much food as she could, and left. They discovered later that she’d stolen a gold knickknack from the front hall where the security cameras were always on.

  So yeah. She’d come for one reason and one reason only: to get to me. And I’d let her.

  I wanted to explode. I was angry all the time, but any time I let my thoughts linger on my mother, it became unbearable. As if I was going to go thermonuclear like some kind of comic book super villain.

  “I am so…angry.” It felt good to say that out loud to someone other than my therapist.

  “And being angry makes you feel weak?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Yes and no. I just…I don’t feel like me. And that scares me.”

  He thought about that for a minute. “And Eve? You’ve ne
ver been so distant. Is that because of all this?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but we talked yesterday. She wants me to get angry.”

  “Let it the hell out, man. You’re headed towards an explosion of epic proportions the way you’re going right now.”

  But I still had the same problem I had yesterday. “I don’t know how.”

  Greg laughed. “Now that is something I can actually help you with. Give me a few days and I’ll make some plans. Think you can get through Thanksgiving as a decent human being?”

  I grunted. “I’ll certainly give it a shot.” I owed my very understanding family that much.

  WE DIDN’T CELEBRATE MUCH of anything growing up, so I was always a bit taken with the magic of the holidays in our house. Eve was in the off-season so the holidays had become her obsession. She went all out. She’d enjoyed holidays before, but after we got married she went into overdrive. I think it was because of me—like she was making up for every single one I missed.

  It made my chest ache with a lot of overwhelming feelings; mostly because I was secretly a great big giant kid. But not this year. I think she’d hoped the holidays would make things better, but I caught her worried glances out of the corner of my eye when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  And while I was a heck of a lot more mellow than usual, I wasn’t necessarily miserably unhappy either. Not like I’d been. Talking to Eve and Greg had been a good first step on the path back to normal. I didn’t feel quite so handcuffed by my emotions.

  So on my mission to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday with my family, I was observing. I didn’t have the energy or desire to bounce off the walls stealing pieces of pie and sneaking the girls gifts like I usually did, but I had time to take it all in.