by Chloe Walsh
She was sleeping in my bed again.
And I was hard as rock watching her.
I didn’t dare close my eyes, though.
If Hope Carter decided she was leaving me again, I planned on fucking the notion right out of her pretty little head.
****
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jordan
I was on twenty-four-hour suicide watch in the hospital, while my father waited on a phone call from the residential treatment center in Aspen that he was trying to get me into.
Derek never asked me if I wanted to go there; I was going and that was it. He'd gone as far as saying that I could hate him the rest of my life if it made me feel better, but he was keeping me alive.
I wanted to hate him for it, for taking control of my life like this, but I couldn’t.
Not when he had sat by my beside for the past eighteen hours straight, while I went through the absolute horror of withdrawals.
My mother had stayed for a while, but Derek had given her his house key and sent her home to his place when the vomiting and diarrhea had gotten so bad that I attempted to smash my face against the tank on the back of the toilet.
He stayed, and warded off the doctors and nurses who had insisted I be restrained to my bed.
In the throes of my pain and madness, I could vividly remember Derek saying the words, "Come anywhere near my son with those and I'll shove them up your ass."
When I had ripped my bandages off and tried to open my stiches, he'd held me in his arms, telling me he loved me over and over, until I gave up fighting.
I wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Not even close.
I still wanted to peel the skin off my bones and douse myself in the iciest water I could find, anything to stop the fire tearing through my veins.
But I could think again.
I could comprehend what people were saying to me.
Everything wasn’t so hazy anymore.
And I fucking hated it.
I didn’t want to wake up from this.
I didn’t want to feel.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
I couldn’t block it out.
I couldn’t keep him out.
Distressed, I got out of my bed, plotting every possible way I could end this once I got into that bathroom and locked the door.
Body trembling, I tried to put one foot in front of the other and failed miserably.
Exhaustion crept through my heart, leaving me with nothing left inside. "Dad," I cried hoarsely as my limbs failed me.
I was done.
All the pain.
The anger.
The hurt.
I couldn’t feel it anymore.
"I've got you, buddy," my father called out, bursting through my personal darkness. His arms came around me just before I hit the ground, breaking my fall. "I'm here," he whispered, wrapping me up in his arms. "Always."
"Dad," I cried, tears flowing freely down my face. "Dad…"
"I've got you, Jordan," he promised, holding me up. "You're safe with me."
"Make it stop," I begged, choking on my tears as sobs racked through my body, rendering me fucking useless. "Take it away for me." Shaking my head, I barked out a sob – one that came straight from the darkest depths of my soul. "I can't…I can't do this anymore!"
"You are not alone." With one arm around my shoulders, my father pressed his hand to my face and dragged me closer, taking my weight for me. "I am right here with you, son."
This was the first time I had allowed a man to touch me and not lose my mind.
It was so fucked up.
I wanted his comfort.
I needed his touch.
I was just so damn scared to feel it.
To let it back in.
Because the emotions I kept at bay were the ones that I knew could kill me.
If I let myself feel them.
"I am going to get you help," he continued to tell me. "And I'm going to be right beside you the whole time." He moved to the bed, then sank down. Limp, I allowed myself to fall into his arms. I allowed myself to lean on him both mentally and physically.
For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to believe him.
"I will never give up on you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You're my boy, and I love you most."
I shuddered violently at his words.
"We are going to get you into that treatment center, and I will stay there with you if you want me to. And then, we are going to get out of this place. You and me, Jord. We are going to see the world, buddy. Whatever you want. We'll write up a bucket list and do it all."
Tears poured down my face; his words shaking me to my core.
"I love you more than anything or anyone on this planet, and I will get you better, son," he added, voice hoarse and laced with sincerity. "You are my number one."
****
Chapter Forty-Eight
Hope
When I woke up this morning, it was to the sight of Hunter naked and sprawled out on his stomach – and to the obnoxiously loud sound of my cell ringing.
Stretching out, I snaked out from under the covers and felt around the floor for my phone.
When I found it, I quickly slid a thumb across the screen and pressed it to my ear, not bothering to check who was calling.
"Hello?"
"Hope." My mother's voice came down the line. "Where are you?"
"Mom?" Frowning at the sound of her clipped tone, I dragged myself into a sitting position. "What's wrong?"
"Can you come home?" she answered my question with a question of her own. "What I have to say to you isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone."
"Um…" I glanced nervously at Hunter who was now awake and watching me. "Yeah, I can come over."
"I'll see you soon," was all she said before the line went dead.
"Shit," I muttered, dropping my phone down on the nightstand beside me. "That was my mother." Frowning, I chewed on my bottom lip and said, "She sounded mad…wants me to go over there to talk."
Anxiety churned inside of me.
"Oh my god, what if something's happened with David?"
"Nothing has happened with David, HC," Hunter was quick to assure me. He trailed his calloused fingertips across my bare skin, settling on my lower stomach. "Stop worrying, sweetheart."
"I can't help it," I shot back, flushed. "I'm a worrier, and my mother's never snippy."
Hunter arched a brow as he looked up at me with an amused expression on his face. "Snippy?"
"Don’t tease. You didn’t hear her," I grumbled. "Something's up with her –" Pausing, I turned and gaped at him. "Oh shit. Do you think they know about us?"
"Would it bother you if they know about us?" he replied, tone a little harder now.
"It will bother me if I'm not the one to tell them," I stated, eyes locked on his.
He stared hard at me for the longest moment before letting out a heavy sigh. Throwing off the covers, he got out of bed and stood before me in all his glorious nakedness. "Come on, HC. Shake a leg."
"Where are we going?" I asked, unable to stop myself from staring at his impressive early morning erection.
Jesus Christ.
How did that thing ever fit inside of my body?
"We're going to see your mother," he replied. "And my eyes are up here, sweetheart."
Mortified at being caught in the act of ogling, I looked up at him guiltily. "Sorry."
Hunter smirked. "Look away. I've got nothing to hide." With that, he padded into the adjoining bathroom, giving me a perfect view of his ass on his way.
The sound of the shower filled my ears then.
Flopping back down on the mattress, I released a frustrated groan.
How the hell was I ever going to coexist with a man I couldn’t look at without turning all cave woman?
"You coming?" he called out from the bathroom.
Oh yeah.
I was most definitely co
ming.
****
Lucky
"You good, HC?" I asked when we pulled up outside the red-bricked, two-story house on Thirteenth Street.
The question was a pointless one; she looked so far opposite from the word okay, I should have rephrased the question to 'are you going to faint'.
Her knees were bobbing restlessly as she sat in the passenger seat of my truck with her eyes wide and full of fear. Her clasped hands had turned white from the sheer force she was putting on them.
"I'm not good, Hunter," Hope finally replied, knees still bopping along, but now her head joined. "I'm really, really not good." Turning to face me, she whispered, "Can we just drive away?" her voice was small, her eyes wide. "Get out of Boulder…. hell, out of Colorado, and start somewhere fresh."
"We don’t run, baby," I told her. "From anything."
"Maybe we should take it up?" she offered glumly. "Looks kind of appealing right now."
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I climbed out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side door to open it. "Let go of the door, baby," I coaxed when Hope yanked the door shut again. Forcing myself to bury the smile that was spreading across my face at the sight of her fucking adorableness, I tried again, and this time she let me open her door.
"I'm scared," she blurted out. "Hunter, if they know what I've done, they're going to hate me."
"Well, I know what 'you've done', and I still love you," I told her with a shake of my head. "Nobody is going to hate you, Hope Carter. It's impossible."
"You won't leave me?" she asked, voice small, as she climbed out of the truck. "You'll stick with me?'
She looked up at me, those big blue eyes shining bright, and took a step closer. That was all I needed. I would take it from here.
"Of course." I took her hand in mine, and smiled. "Ride or die, HC."
****
Chapter Forty-Nine
Hope
I'd known I was in trouble when I heard my mother's voice this morning, but I never expected to be led into an ambush, which was exactly what I walked into when I stepped through the front door of my parents' house.
Mom, who was sitting at the kitchen table, was joined by a woman I hadn't seen since early childhood.
Karen Valentine.
Sitting beside her, in an even more shocking turn of events, was Derek.
Seeing them sitting less than a foot apart, knowing how volatile their relationship had been, stunned me.
The cherry on the cake, though, had to be the sight of Annabelle sitting at my parents' table, glaring daggers at me.
Oh, that bitch…
My only saving grace in this moment was the irresistibly charming, and ruthlessly lethal man who, even though he'd be looked at like he was the spawn of Satan, was standing right beside me.
In the kitchen where nothing good ever happened, I stared at the place where his body had been before quickly averting my eyes. The blood was gone now, the smell erased, but the memories of that night were still very much alive and real for me.
"What's going on?" I finally managed to say.
"What's going on," Derek repeated flatly before turning to glare at me with such anger that I felt myself pale. "What's going on, Hope, is that my son is lying on a hospital bed waiting to be transferred to the Mountain View Residential Center. He tried to kill himself!" Derek choked out, directing his fury straight at me – like I'd always known he would. "He slit his fucking wrists and could have bled to death in that house. Alone."
Pain hit me like a wrecking ball as I struggled to comprehend and make sense of what I was hearing.
Jordan hurt himself?
He tried to kill himself?
"Oh god," I strangled out, covering my mouth with my hand. "Is he okay?"
"No, he's not okay. How could he possibly be okay after what you did to him!" Annabelle screamed, interrupting Derek.
"I didn’t know," I choked out, feeling the burn rush up my neck. "I swear, I didn’t know he was in that frame of mind."
"But you knew he was taking drugs again," Karen chimed in, looking at me in the exact same way Derek was. "You knew he was drinking and you left him alone." Shaking her head in disgust, she demanded, "Where were you, Hope?"
"Hold the fuck up," Hunter was quick to intercept. "She's not a goddamn babysitter for your adult son, lady."
"Lucky," Derek snapped. "Stay out of this."
"And let you all talk down to Hope like it's her fault that your screwed-up son is a junkie? " Hunter countered. "You can shit in your hands and clap if you think I'm gonna let that happen."
"Tell them why Jordan fell off the wagon in the first place, Hope!" Annabelle, hell bent on taking me down, demanded. "Go on. Tell Jordan's parents what you did!"
"Hope?" Mom turned and looked at me. "What's she talking about?"
"Your daughter has been having an affair," Annabelle hissed, not giving me a chance to speak. Raising her finger, she pointed it directly at Hunter and spat, "With him!"
"You're getting on my last fucking nerve, Blondie," Hunter growled, rubbing his jaw. "Seriously. Someone needs to throw some holy water on your ass and banish you back to the hole you slithered out from."
"Lucky!" That was my mother. "Is it true?"
When he clenched his jaw and didn’t respond, Mom turned to me.
"Hope, is this true?" she asked shakily. "Are you having an affair with Lucky?"
****
Lucky
Well, the shit had hit the proverbial fan in Thirteenth Street.
"Hope, is this true?" Lee demanded, eyes locked on her daughter. "Are you having an affair with Lucky?"
All the pain and suffering and fucking isolation came down to this moment.
She had to do it.
She had to make a choice.
Claim me or shame me.
I had been expecting the inevitable; her begging them to forgive her for something she had no business apologizing for, and then turning around to me and ripping my heart to shreds.
But what I had been expecting was the opposite of what happened.
"I'm not having an affair with Lucky," Hope replied. "I'm with him, Mom."
Lee turned white. "With him?"
"Yeah, Mom. I'm with him," Hope repeated, voice a little shaky. "We're together."
The pressure in my heart was so extreme in this moment that I reached up and rubbed my chest for relief.
Well shit…
She did it.
She actually fucking did it.
"You fucking bastard." Derek shoved his chair back and jerked to his feet.
Derek lunged for me, but was quickly held back by Karen. "Don’t, Der," she ordered. "He's not worth it."
"He's a piece of shit," Derek snarled, glowering me.
"Back off, Derek," Hope snapped, shocking the hell out of me by coming to my defense. "It's not his fault."
"You stole his wife!" Derek roared.
"She was never his to steal, old man," I shot back heatedly. "And trust me when I tell you that she came willingly."
"Because she's a whore, that's why!" Annabelle snarled. "A spoiled, entitled daddy's girl, who walked out that door, knowing Jordan was a wreck, and never looked back."
"Don’t speak about my daughter like that," Lee growled, but Annabelle didn’t listen.
"You left him there to die, Hope," she hissed. "You knew he was on the edge and you left anyway. You practically handed him the knife –"
"Get out of my house!" Lee screamed, stunning the hell out of all of us.
I'd known the Carters' for a few years now, and never once in all that time had I ever heard Lee Carter raise her voice.
But she was raising it now like a lioness.
"Lee, this isn’t Annabelle's fault," Derek chimed in. "She is Jordan's best friend. She's just trying to protect him."
Now, it was my turn to laugh.
"Protect him," I chuckled. "Good one."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snarled, eyes
flashing with outrage.
"You do realize what you've let into your house, don’t you?" I asked Hope's mother.
"Hunter?" Hope choked out. "What do you mean?"
"That one right there." I pointed at the blonde bitch with the giant chip on her shoulder. "Is your husband's half-sister." I turned to look at Annabelle and smirked, "Isn't that right, Annalisa?"
"He's lying," she screamed, face turning purple. Shoving her chair back, she jerked to her feet and hissed, "David is not my father!"
"He never said he was," Hope countered angrily. "He never mentioned the name David at all." She glared at the blonde. "You just played yourself."
"You think she gives a shit about your son?" I tossed out, turning my attention on Derek. "Wake up, Derek. She's a fucking implant, man. Been watching the whole lot of you for years now."
"I love Jordan," Annabelle announced, focusing on Derek. "I do. He's my best friend. We've been looking out for each other for –"
"Get out of my house," Lee hissed, rising from her chair. "Now!"
"But I –"
"Get the fuck out!" Hope screamed, coming to her mother's aid. "Or I swear to god I will hurt you."
With a furious expression, Annabelle turned on her hooker heels and stalked out of the room.
"When you run home to Daddy to tell him all about this, make sure you tell him Lucky says hello," I called after.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll hear from him soon," she spat.
"Excellent." I grinned. "Something to look forward to."
The front door slammed, and Lee sank back down in her seat, looking weary and sad.
I hated that.
She was a good woman.
Fucking hated seeing her like this.
"Lee," I began to say, but she cut me off with a cold stare.
"Do not talk to me," she warned.
"Mom," Hope croaked out. "None of this is his fault."