Letting Go of You (Anchored Hearts #2)

by J. M. Witt

  “Okay. I have to go. I’m exhausted. Would you be willing to go dress shopping with me next week?”

  It was going to be a hard week for everyone. “Sure. I’d love that!” She hugged me and then left.

  Toward the end of the day I got a phone call from Smith. He seemed a little panicked. “Cassidy, I need you to come to the penthouse. It’s James.”

  “What do you mean? Is he okay?”

  “He’s alive, but I can’t get through to him. I think you’re the only one who can.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Prepare yourself. He’s a nasty son of a bitch when he’s drunk.”

  I sighed. “Perfect.” I hung up the phone.

  I hadn’t really experienced ‘drunk James’, but knew that I wouldn’t like him. He never had more than a couple drinks, if any, and I never thought anything of it. My mother was also a nasty drunk when she was still around. It blew monkey balls. I didn’t want to go see him, but knew I had to.

  Smith met me in the hallway outside of his door. “He’s being really aggressive, but I know he won’t hurt you.”

  “Aggressive?” It was worse than I thought.

  “He won’t let me closer than ten feet before he starts getting violent. I’ll go in with you, but keep your distance. I’ll stay out of sight.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this Smith. My mom was a nasty drunk.” The adrenaline was already pumping and I wanted to run to the nearest exit.

  “He won’t hurt you. He loves you too much.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  We walked in and I couldn’t hear anything. I looked to Smith and he pointed to the upstairs. I started up the stairs as Smith said, “He doesn’t mean it.”

  “Doesn’t mean what?”

  “Whatever he says. He doesn’t mean it.” He walked up with me but stayed in the hallway while I entered the bedroom.

  James was sitting, in the chair by the window, with a bottle of some kind of booze in one hand and piece of paper in the other. It looked like he was asleep so I stalked closer. As I got nearer, I glanced at the piece of paper and saw that it was actually a photograph. It slid right out from between his fingers as I looked at it. It immediately made me sad. Walking to his dresser, I stuck it up in the corner of the mirror, just under the frame.

  Walking back over to him, I had to lean over him slightly to get the bottle. He reeked of booze, it had drenched into him and was seeping out of his pores. I placed the bottle on the table and stood over him debating what my next move would be. The place was a wreck, almost like he was looking for something. I was putting everything away when he started to rouse. I kept my distance and waited for him to notice I was there. We locked eyes for a few moments and then he smiled that cheesy ass grin. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.

  “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

  “Is that so?” I could only imagine what he was dreaming of that involved me. He patted his lap, motioning me to sit on it. “Not happening. You need a shower.”

  “Okay.” I watched in disbelief as he got up and walked into the bathroom, dropping his pants as he went.

  Once I heard the water running, I stepped into the hallway and told Smith that he could leave. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I think everything will be fine.” He nodded and made his exit.

  Walking into the bathroom, I asked him, “Do you need anything?”

  He didn’t respond and I started to get nervous. What if he passed out and was drowning? I walked over and opened the fogged up door. He grabbed hold of my wrist and tried pulling me in with him.

  “I could use some help washing my back.”

  “James, don’t.” He pulled a little harder, but I wouldn’t budge. “I said no.”

  We were playing tug of war when he slipped and fell, hitting his head on the built in shower bench. Now he was playing my sympathy, laying there like he was unconscious. I turned to look in the mirror, waiting for him to give up the ploy.

  “James, knock it off.” Turning back around with my hands on my hips. “This isn’t funny.” I spotted the drain and the water running into it was pink. “Shit. James!” I turned the water off and tried getting him to wake up. “No, no, no, no…” I pulled my cell out of my pocket and called Smith. James started to come to when I was talking to Smith—who was still in the hotel—and said he’d be right up.

  “Dammit woman. What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Here.” I grabbed a towel and pressed it to his head, not exactly sure where the blood was coming from.

  Smith came rushing in and doubled over with laughter at the scene in front of him. “Serves you right fucker. It’s about time someone knocked your block off, or tried to anyways.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Ah, there he is. Mean bastard.”

  “Come on. We need to get him out of here. I’m not sure how bad it is.”

  Smith offered him an arm and surprisingly James took it. I grabbed another towel to cover him with as he sat down on the counter.

  “Would you hold still, I’m trying to find where it’s bleeding from and it’s not easy with all this hair.”

  His hair was longer than it was when I first met him. He reached in a drawer and pulled out some hair clippers.

  “Just shave it.”

  “NO!” I grabbed the clippers and put them back in the drawer. “Don’t you dare shave your head! Now stop moving, I think I found it.” I found it and applied some pressure, but it looked like a pretty bad gash. “Smith, take a look.”

  “Damn, yea you’re going to need stitches.”

  “Give me a break.” He jumped off the counter and almost fell over. “Fuck. Make it stop spinning.”

  “And looks like a concussion too.”

  He went to speak and instead lurched toward the toilet and began hurling.

  “You’re going to the hospital.” I left the bathroom, grabbed some clothes for him and waited for him to come out. When Smith dragged him out on his arm I threw the clothes on the bed. “Get dressed. And I swear to God if you get blood on my leather seats I’ll choke you.” I stomped out of the room.

  “She told you. Here, get dressed.” I laughed at Smith’s remark and made my way downstairs.

  ~<>~<>~<>~

  “Well, it’s definitely a concussion. We’d like to keep you for observation.”

  “Absolutely not.” I glared at him. “I’m not staying here overnight. No way.”

  “I’m only comfortable releasing you if you have someone to stay with you.”

  He looked to me, “I’m sure my wife won’t mind.”

  The doctor looked to me and I nodded. “Sorry I didn’t realize. Make sure to wake him up every three to four hours. The nausea should start to subside. If things don’t improve in the next twenty four hours, please come back. With your previous head trauma, I don’t want to take any chances.” Previous head trauma! “Try to keep the wound dry for the next couple of days.”

  He seemed perturbed. “Got it doc.”

  “They’ll be in with your discharge papers shortly.” The doctor handed me his business card as he left, “Call me anytime if you have any questions.” I didn’t think anything of it.

  When I looked back to James he was glaring at me. “Get me out of here.”

  “Soon enough. Just relax.”

  “I’ll relax when doctor’s stop blatantly hitting on my WIFE.” I was mortified knowing that probably the entire ER had heard him.

  “You’re being ridiculous. Like you give a crap if someone hits on me.” I knew I was pushing it.

  “You’re my wife.”

  “Then fucking act like it! I’ll be in the waiting room.” I walked through the curtain and immediately blushed as half the staff and some patients stared at me.

  A couple of the nurses winked at me and one even said, “Stand your ground girl.”

  ~<>~<>~<>~

  He didn’t talk to me for rest of the night. I set t
he alarm on my phone once he laid down, leaving me downstairs. I tried to get some sleep, but it was pointless. Watching TV helped. When my alarm went off, I muted the TV and headed upstairs.

  He looked peaceful and sexy as fuck just lying there in his underwear with the covers pushed off of him. My fingers were itching the touch him. I wondered what he’d do if straddled him and licked my way up his back, like he occasionally did to me. Knock it off, Cassidy! I pushed on his shoulder, but he didn’t budge so I pushed harder and said his name. On my third attempt he turned his head toward me and opened his eyes.

  “Doctor wants you awake for twenty minutes. Then you can go back to sleep.” He sat up and my eyes fell to his crotch. How nice it must be to wake up with a raging boner.

  “See something you like?” My eyes flashed to his. Busted!

  “Nope, nothing at all.” I turned to walk away and he grabbed my wrist. “James, please don’t.” I was surprised and maybe a little disappointed when he released my arm.

  “Whatever.”

  Four hours later, we repeated the same routine. “Please, don’t.”

  “Why are you being like this?”

  ME! “ME!” What was I mad about? I struggled trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. Frustrated I said, “Get a clue,” and left to go home. It was morning and I assumed he would be headed to work himself. I had to go home, shower and get ready for work.

  Chapter 22 ~Poison

  ~ JAMES ~

  It was the day of mom’s funeral. Visitation had been what anyone would expect. There were some laughs, lots of tears, and several memories were shared. Cassidy was there the whole time, both days, and stood by me. We didn’t talk much, mostly because of my guilt, and we were both being incredibly stubborn. I wanted to hold her close and apologize and tell her to run for the hills. If anyone suspected we were at odds, they didn’t say anything.

  Paul was there too. He and Cassidy spent a lot of time talking and I couldn’t help but be jealous. What did he have that I didn’t? She caught me staring and glared at me, disappointment strewn across her face. I wondered if she’d told him about our fight involving him.

  I took one last look in the mirror and adjusted my blue tie. Mom had requested that everyone wear blue since it was her favorite color. Mom was well known in society for her charity, especially with the under privileged children. I always wondered why she didn’t adopt any of the kids. She certainly loved them enough.

  When I arrived at the church I was overcome with emotion. The church that held over a thousand people was full. I stalked off to a side room and Cassidy followed me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I didn’t expect so many people to come.”

  “She was a great lady. You should be proud and honored to call her Mom.” I was in awe of her. “Hold your head high James. She loved you more than any of them.”

  I grabbed on to her and pulled her tight against me. I was about to say something when my father interrupted us.

  “Son, the caskets here. We’re ready when you are.” I nodded.

  “I’ll be here.” She squeezed my hand as I followed my father and joined the other pall bearers.

  Mom had chosen each of them, though they didn’t know until her passing. My father, my uncle and I weren’t surprised. Calvin, Paul, and Smith. All three of them were shocked when I asked on her behalf.

  I had told Cal, “She was so excited to welcome you into the family. And you two, she loved you like sons, maybe more so.”

  My father and I were on either side, taking the lead with the rest following behind. We carried her in, placed her in her spot of honor and took our seats. I don’t remember much from the ceremony. Lost in my own memories. Cassidy took hold of my hand at one point and I clutched her hand tightly. Almost everyone came up to me and offered their condolences.

  I rode with her to the cemetery. We had a small service for family and a few friends only. There was a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It was mom’s favorite kind too. It sparkled in the sunlight, making it look like the earth had been dusted with diamonds.

  “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.” I nodded to her as she left me with my mom. Even Dad had left already. How was I going to say goodbye to her?

  ~ CASSIDY ~

  I sat in my car and watched James as he stood by her coffin. I wasn’t sure how long I sat and watched him. Broken Ones by Jacqui Lee was playing through my speakers. A light snow started to fall and the scene was heartbreakingly beautiful. His profile was hidden while his hair fell around his face and his black coat turned to gray from the snow. He was all alone in more ways than one. He didn’t make a move, but for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. When I looked in my rear view mirror I realized everyone was gone except for the vehicle Smith drove. I spotted his figure in the driver’s seat and knew that he was waiting too.

  Without thought, when the song ended, I got out of my car and walked to where James stood. I wasn’t even sure if we were together anymore. Ever since she passed, things had been horribly strained between us. But I couldn’t let go of the pull that I was meant to be by his side. Wasn’t I? How did I get him to realize that too? His mother warned me about it all. I was going to miss her but knew my grief for her loss was nothing compared to his grief.

  His head had turned slightly at the sound of my shoes crunching on the snow, but he had yet to acknowledge me. When I reached him I stood behind him and to the side, waiting. His hair was growing damp from the snowfall as I watched a drop of water fall from the ends. I wanted to hug him, but was also afraid to touch him, not knowing what he needed from me, if anything. I heard the purr of an engine in the distance and watched as Smith pulled away.

  A few more moments passed before I moved to stand in front of him. His eyes were transfixed downward as I tried to meet his eyes, but he wasn’t there. His beautiful green eyes were now glazed over in misery and desperation.

  “James?”

  I placed my hand on his upper arm, but he didn’t move. Cupping his face, I traced his eyebrows the way I did when we were intimate. I outlined his scar as his eyes fluttered shut and when he reopened them he was back with me. Tears filled his eyes, and mine, as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His arms enveloped around me tightly and I felt his tears fall down my neck. Gently, I pulled away and placed my hand in his. He didn’t object when I pulled him toward my car. Once we were both in my car, I wasn’t sure where to take him.

  “Do you want me to take you home or to the hotel?” He didn’t say anything. “I’m taking you to the hotel. So unless you want to go elsewhere…”

  “That’s fine.” They were the first words I heard from his lips, but it didn’t sound like him. He was void of any emotion.

  When we pulled into the hotel garage, security waved us through. We made our way to the elevator and up to his floor. He fumbled with the key card, trying to open the door, before I took it from him and opened the door for him. I watched as he walked in and took off his coat and suit jacket, throwing them both on a barstool. Standing by the counter, memories flooded me from the night he brought me back here after the masquerade.

  Grabbing the remote off the counter, he pushed a few buttons and the music played overhead. I didn’t know what to say or do, but knew that it was dangerous for me to be there. We had so much to discuss and I wasn’t sure that it was the appropriate time.

  “I should go. Will you be okay?” I regretted the words before they left my lips. Of course he wouldn’t be ok. His mother was gone.

  He stiffened and raised himself to his full height, glaring at me. I watched as he yanked his tie loose and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. I recognized the look in his eyes and knew I had to get out of there before I fell prey to him. Turning toward the door, I rushed for it, aware of his footsteps following closely behind. I turned the knob, but he shut it again before I had it fully open.

  “Cassidy.” My name falling from his lips sent a shiver down my spine as I closed my eyes.

 
“James, don’t do this. Let me go. Please.” I felt his hands rest on my shoulders before he pulled my coat off of me and dropped it on the floor beside me.

  “Please don’t go.”

  I let his words bleed into my soul. I think it was the first time he had asked me to stay and not the other way around. He pulled the clip from my hair and brushed his fingers through it as it fell down my shoulders. James buried his face in my neck and whispered something about oranges. I assumed he must have been referring to my shampoo. His hands were resting on my hips as my own braced against the door. I felt his hot breath trail by my ear as his whiskers tickled my face.

  “I need you, Blackbird. Please stay with me.”

  It was then that my ears focused on the song overhead that started playing again. It was on repeat and it caused the tears to overflow from my eyes. Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars rang through the penthouse. Why did he choose that song and why did he have it on repeat? He turned me to face him and pressed me up against the door. Staring at his chest, as the tears rolled down my cheeks, his fingers gently pushed my chin upward and I tried unsuccessfully to avoid his eyes.

  “Your mouth is poison.” He was whispering the words of the song to me and I chose to do the same.

  “I don’t love you.” My words were a lie and we both knew it. He pulled me tight against him as we swayed ever so lightly to the music. Why wasn’t I immune to his charm?

  “I still choose you, Cassidy.” His lips nipped at my ear and I tried to stop myself from leaning into him. “I always will.” He began placing kisses all over my face, licking away the saltiness my tears had left there.

  When his lips found mine I tried not to react, but he didn’t give up. Placing his large hands on my face, his fingers spanned back into my hairline as he began massaging my scalp and I felt my walls tumbling down. We’d played this tug of war with our relationship for months, maybe the entire relationship. But now it was more than a relationship. I was his wife. I needed him to prove to me that he could open up to me and let me in. Or I needed to get over it and deal with him and his secrets.