Madness

by J. L. Vallance

  So much for tea, a shower, and a nap.

  Chapter 29

  “Why would you do that?” Rory bellowed, backing me into a corner.

  “How do you even know what I did?” I snapped.

  “He called me, told me I was even. He said a gorgeous girl with amber eyes and lots of ink stormed into his office with an envelope full of cash.” His voice rose with each syllable. “Does that fit the description of anyone you know?”

  “Rory, don’t overreact—”

  “Do you not understand how dangerous he is?” he shouted, his face full of anger.

  “Yes! I found you, remember? I saw your face, was there when you went into and came out of surgery.”

  “Then why would you do something so stupid?!”

  “Was I supposed to sit back and let him attack you again? Maybe he’d kill you the next time. Or maybe I should have just hung back and waited for him to catch wind of me. Then he would have come for me when I least expected it,” I responded, shoving him in the chest. “I did it to protect you. I did it with the hope that you would get a fucking clue.”

  Rory backed away from me, looking stricken. The swelling was still intense in his face, especially around his right eye where he had the fracture. He was bruised and cut and though I wouldn’t have imagined it possible, he actually looked a little worse than he had the day before.

  “I told you I’d figure something out!”

  “Right,” I responded, shaking my head. “You’d have figured out something that would have been a bazillion times worse than what it was! Don’t you get it, Rory? Not everything is a game!”

  “I got it, Bubbles,” he admitted.

  “Then when are you finally going to wake the fuck up?” I asked.

  “My life with you has been a wakeup call, every moment of it. Even with the struggles I’ve had. You have made me want to have a better life. I just don’t know how.”

  “You need to figure it out, Rory. You make me feel things. Things I gave up on ever feeling. This relationship is complicated on a thousand levels, but I believe we’re worth it,” I replied, stepping closer to him. “I understand that now. But as worth it as we are, I can’t keep playing this game. I can’t keep going back and forth with you. If you have any more earth shattering addictions, let’s air them out. Now.”

  “The drinking, the pills, the gambling. . . I think that covers it,” he replied with a weak chuckle.

  “Do you really find humor in this?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replied, sighing. “But goddamn, Frankie, I am lost and afraid. And fuck me; the last thing I want is to hurt you.”

  I reached out, lacing my fingers with his, meeting his intense glare. The heat building between the two of us in the small space was nearly palpable. His broken arm hung loosely at his side, the cast looking warm and heavy—much like my heart.

  “I can’t keep facing the repeated build up and let down. I have a life to live.”

  “You won’t have to,” he answered, and I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe him.

  “Are you ready yet?” I whispered.

  “For what?” he asked, using the fingers of his broken arm to push the hair back from my face.

  “To open your eyes?” I asked once again.

  “Almost?”

  I closed mine. I was ready. I had been since the night I first realized I was in love with him. Rory needed to take the leap with me. He made me believe in the possibility of love—of us. But he held back on giving into it. If only he knew the future that lay before us, perhaps that would help him.

  “Rory—” I began, my words stopped by a warm finger pressed to my lips.

  “Shh, Bubbles,” he whispered, his lips hanging a half a heartbeat from mine. “Tomorrow, we’ll face it tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to love you.”

  I reached up, buried my fingers in his hair, and pulled him to my mouth. He sighed, he breathed life into my tired bones, and when he opened his mouth, I pushed my tongue forward, relishing in the taste of mint that lingered on the tip of his. I kissed him long, holding his mouth to mine, my free hand grabbing onto his hip, pulling him into my body, helping him press me into the wall.

  I looked at him, met his fierce ice blue eyes, my breath catching in my chest.

  “I love you, Rory.” It felt better than I imagined it would—admitting something of such epic proportions. My heart has always been mine alone. I’ve always watched it, protected it, very carefully. Until Rory came along. I’ve opened my chest, pulled my heart free from its cage, and handed it to him with a neat bow.

  He smothered my body with his, pressed his erection into my thigh, and my body burned with the need to feel him above me, beneath me, within me. It didn’t matter—I just needed to feel him. Every bit of him. The best feeling in the universe came with allowing myself the freedom to admit that I loved him. And I did. With everything I had and was.

  “Say it again,” he ordered gruffly, his fingers gripping my chin.

  “I love you,” I complied, meaning the words more than I’d ever meant anything in my life.

  “I love you, Francesca.” His voice was low, vibrating in his chest again. “I’m yours. All yours.”

  “Ditto,” I sighed.

  He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting him carry me to my room. He kissed me feverishly, nipping at my bottom lip, and quicker than I realized, my clothes were gone. The cool air welcome on my heated flesh. We tumbled onto the bed together, Rory entering me quickly and forcefully.

  I gasped, my fingers pressing into the skin of his back. I lifted my hips, meeting each one of his thrusts, enjoying the build of pleasure in my core. I pulled his lips back to mine, kissed him hard. I forced my tongue into his mouth, tasted his sweet breath.

  Rory rolled us, and I landed straddling him, breathing heavily. His hands rested on my hips, his fingertips pressing firmly as I began to move slowly, methodically. I grabbed his hand, pushed his arm—the one that was unbroken—up above his head as I smothered his body with mine, kissing his chest along the way. I laid my forehead to his, drew in a shaking breath, and started moving my hips in a slow, smooth, circular motion.

  His hands moved, grabbing a fistful of hair that made me moan, before smoothing down my back. Everywhere he touched felt like electricity moving across my skin. It felt like we were connected—mind, body, and soul. My body tingled; the pleasure was growing, reaching a peak. I wanted to tumble over the peak.

  My eyes met his in the soft light of the room, and my movement increased. Rory’s breaths quickened and a deep and low groan slipped from his parted lips

  “I love you, Rory,” I whispered, my body shuddering with the strong climax. Rory pushed up, tumbling with me.

  I collapsed on top of him as his fingers drew light circles into my skin. This is what happiness feels like. . . A random tear slipped free, landing on his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. For once,” I replied.

  “I love you, Bubbles.” He kissed the top of my head, settling back into the sheets.

  “Move in with me, Rory,” I demanded. “Stay here and we’ll work on getting better together.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he replied, pulling me tighter into his body.

  Everything seemed to fade away in the darkness; nothing mattered but us. I had him. We had each other. We were going to have a baby. I felt all of the things that I’d always been promised when I fell in love. I waited so long to feel them. But I finally did, and it was better than anyone ever explained.

  I loved him. I would be having his child. My eyelids fluttered as I drifted to sleep, my mind finally finding peace as I decided to tell him over breakfast.

  Chapter 30

  Every man faces a moment in his life where he has to make a painful choice.

  Mine happened to be one that was going to gut me. But more than me, I knew it would devastate Frankie. I hated myself for being the
piece of shit I was. That’s what led me to make such an unbearable choice.

  I stayed awake all night, after I shared the most intense sexual experience of my life with Frankie. It wasn’t just sex. I made love to her, and we connected on a level I had never allowed myself to connect with anyone ever before. And after sharing something like that with her, I was going to leave.

  Because I’m such a fuck.

  I lied to her. Told her we’d face the future tomorrow. My tomorrow and her tomorrow would be very different and very far apart. It killed me to watch the hope spark behind the light of her eyes. It killed me even more to know that when she discovered what I did, that spark would burn out. It would flake away and disappear with the morning.

  Frankie fell asleep curled up against my side, and I held her tight as I struggled with my decision. I had no other choice. The call had been made before I stepped foot out of that hospital. I found and made arrangements at a treatment facility out of state. It was time. If I was ever going to have any kind of a future, it had to start with me facing my past and finally getting clean. I understood that truth now more than ever.

  I should have shared all of that with her, but it was my own burden to bear. I had forced her to go through enough already. She had seen me at my worst and had gone into one of the seediest establishments in the county to pay off my debt. A debt that no matter how long it took, no matter what it took, I would repay.

  I left her lying in that bed, all of the love that had grown and matured between the two of us surrounding her, shielding her from what would be coming to her when she woke. Christ. She asked me to move in with her, and instead of accepting all she offered—everything I wanted—I was leaving. I was running away from her in the middle of the goddamn night. Like a fucking coward. I dressed and made my way into the kitchen to find pen and paper. My hand shook as the pen hovered over the paper, and I struggled with what to say.

  I said the only thing I could, the only words that could sum everything up but also ensure that she wouldn’t come for me. Not right away. I had to heal first. The pen moved easily, gracefully over the paper as I left her with eight words. Eight goddamn words that I knew would devastate her. In the end, it would be the best thing for her.

  I’m sorry, Frankie. I’m just too fucked up.

  **

  My body ached in a good way as I rolled over to find the bed empty. I imagined Rory, fumbling in my kitchen, attempting to figure out the controls on the microwave. Maybe he already ran out to pick up breakfast somewhere. Or maybe he was in the shower. The thought made me smile as I lay in bed listening to the birds chirping outside the window.

  Today would be the day. I would tell Rory that we were going to have a baby. Hopefully his response would be calm—more so than mine had been initially. And then, we’ll talk about him moving in. I smiled to myself, thinking of the future. What a rare occurrence that was.

  I climbed out of bed and slipped into my robe before padding out in search of food, tea, and Rory. All the butterflies that had once attacked my stomach with the thought of telling him what grew within me were gone. After the night we shared, the connection we formed, I felt more at ease with our situation than ever. I finally felt like everything was going to be okay. That wasn’t an easy place to arrive at. But I’d finally arrived.

  The house was still and quiet. The air was cool and filled with thick unease as I walked toward the kitchen. My mug, the one I always used for my morning tea, was set in the middle of the counter with a tea bag inside; a note was propped against it. I smiled as new and welcome butterflies assaulted my stomach.

  I opened it and read two sentences. Two. That’s all that was there. Apparently that was all I had been worth. That was all it took to crush me into a pile of ash. I crumbled to the floor, the paper falling slowly, hitting the floor seconds after I did. The sobbing started somewhere in between. And my heart? It shattered into a billion pieces before it scattered into the air.

  Rory left.

  He was gone and I knew somewhere in the depths of my soul he wasn’t coming back. That reality crashed into me, it stole the air from my lungs and the hope from my heart. It fucking devastated me.

  The kitchen floor was where Karleigh found me, curled in a tight ball, nearly three hours later when she came searching for me after I failed to show up at the winery. She sunk to the floor, read the note, and held onto me. Karleigh cried after I had long run out of tears. She waited in silence until I found the strength and energy to say something.

  “I’m pregnant, Karls,” I whispered. She pushed my hair back from my face—my blotchy and swollen face—and placed a tender kiss to my forehead.

  “Oh, Franks,” she whispered back. “We’ll get through it.”

  “How could he do this?” I asked, begging for an answer, knowing she could offer none. “He knew, Karleigh, he knew I was so fragile.”

  “You’re not fragile,” she snapped. “You are strong and amazing. You will get through this because you are bigger than this. You’re bigger than him.”

  “Maybe,” I sniffed. “I fought for him because I thought he was different. I thought he needed me as much as I needed him.”

  “If you do nothing but sit and wonder about what you did and why he left, you will do nothing but wallow in pain. Forget about the whats and whys. Think about the nexts.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Simply.”

  She helped me from the floor and to the couch where I stayed while she fixed me tea. When she returned, I settled back into the cushions with my tea and told her about the past few days and the experience I had with Doogan. She expressed her disappointment with Rory and his vices as well as his disappearing act.

  “When he comes back—”

  “If,” I pointed out.

  “When he comes back, you need to send him packing,” Karleigh advised. “There is troubled and then there is plain trouble. I have a feeling he is the latter.”

  She had a point, one that was hard to argue with.

  “He may be, Karleigh. But I love him, more than I should and for all the reasons I shouldn’t.”

  She let silence fall, and I quickly drifted off to sleep, but not before I had a chance to think about our night together. He’d been so loving, so passionate, and so intense.

  He’d been saying goodbye while I was finally saying hello.

  **

  I sat across from Lukas, his rich hazel eyes boring into mine. He had a crazy calm about him, although his eyes looked murderous.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Good luck finding him,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders as if it didn’t matter, like I didn’t care. But it did matter. It mattered and hurt and pissed me off.

  It had been two weeks since Rory had left his note. Since he had left me. Two weeks since I had been left to deal with the devastating pain and shock of it. There hadn’t been one call, letter, text, or random sighting. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth. Some days, I didn’t know whether that made it better or worse.

  I’d sat my mother down a week after he left—once I was finally able to pull myself out of bed—and told her that I was going to be a mother. To say she had mixed feelings would be an egregious understatement. I understood every single one of her feelings and held every one of her concerns as one of my own. But, I assured her that I was up to this new challenge, that I could do this.

  Lukas was my last big reveal. Perhaps he was the one I was most afraid of. That’s why I decided to do it in a crowded coffee shop. The more witnesses the better.

  “He has no idea?” he asked. “That you’re. . . pregnant?”

  The word came out sounding like I had some rare and incurable illness. I smiled at him, reached a hand across the table to fit around his.

  “No,” I replied. “He left before I had the chance to tell him.”

  “After you paid a twenty thousand dollar debt of his?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to kil
l him,” he repeated.

  “Luka, it’s okay.”

  “It’s really not, Frankie. He used and abused you.”

  “I’ll survive this. I promise.”

  He studied me a few moments before standing. He walked around the table and stood beside me, staring down. He dropped suddenly, taking my hand in his.

  “Marry me, Francesca Winters,” he demanded. “I’ll take care of you, honor you, devote the rest of my life to you and your child. All you have to do is say yes.”

  I loved Lukas. He was smart, sweet, funny, took care of me in ways that no one in my life ever had—ever could—but he did not own my heart. Not in the way that mattered. He didn’t make my heart race, my palms sweat, or toes curl with a soul stealing kiss. Only one man had ever made me feel any of those things. That was the only man I’d ever be willing to give my soul to—I already had given it to him. And he broke me.

  Oh how different my life could be if I could give myself to Lukas.

  “Lukas,” I started, “You are so sweet—”

  “Say yes, Frankie. I’ll never treat you anything but good.”

  “I love you, Luka. I love you too much to let you settle for a life you don’t really want. It’s noble of you to want to swoop in and save the day. But I don’t need saving. Just be here, as my friend.”

  The look that moved over his features was enough to break the parts of me I’d managed to mold back together over the past few days. It was a look that said he wouldn’t really be settling but he knew I would. And that was a devastating blow.

  “You’re not doing this alone, Winters,” he said finally, his voice strong and resolute. I placed a palm to his cheek, attempting to soothe him.

  “I have a village surrounding me, Luka. I’m far from alone.”

  “You have a village plus one,” he replied, taking my hand from his cheek, placing a warm kiss to the center of my palm. “I’ll be with you, every step of the way. You can’t make me stay away. Things don’t have to go back to the way they were. Just don’t shut me out. Let me be your support.”