Once again I realized why. Damn Becca. I ignored her reaction to my hickey and glared. “No.”
“Do you love her?” she signed, trying to hold her smile in.
“Stop.”
I didn’t know that emotion. It was a foreign, confusing, possibly unreal idea like dark matter. It could be real, but proving it would shatter something else far more beautiful. Some things were the way they were. Love was one of those things. Though I wanted women, I had never stopped to think about what it would be like to love them, to have them love me in return. Now I knew that was impossible. Otherwise Tess would have stayed for the right reasons and Becca wouldn’t have needed an arrangement. Loving me? Who could do that?
Why would anyone do that?
“Does she remind you of Elise?”
For one second I was thankful I couldn’t hear. Watching Uma spell out my mother’s name was hard enough. I shook my head. “No. But,” I admitted, “I keep comparing them.”
She nodded slowly, contemplating ideas in that head of hers. “You love her,” she concluded. “And that scares you because the last woman you loved destroyed you. The people we love possess a lot of power over us, honey. They can break us, but they can also save us. I loved Grant more than–” Uma paused, swallowed hard, and then continued, signing faster to get it out. “Love is powerful. It’s possessive. It shows you your true fears before you even understand what you’re afraid of. Fear and love go hand in hand. But the one thing always stronger than fear is love. Even in the midst of your fear love thrives.”
I looked away. Her words were opening my chest and ripping my heart out one word at a time. I wanted Becca so badly in that moment I felt physically empty. Uma didn’t know who Becca was. If she did she’d tell me to get over her now. Becca had no business being with a guy like me. She was destined for someone who could hear her beauty, rather than see it. Someone who could listen to her heartbeat, rather than feel it. Someone who could hear her love, rather than doubt it. That wasn’t me.
But I wanted it to be.
Uma grabbed my arm. I looked at her unwillingly.
“What’s her name?”
“Becca,” I revealed out loud.
Uma tried to fight it, but she smiled anyway like a proud momma bear. I rolled my eyes, which only made her smile harder. Her smile eventually faded and she revealed her true feelings. “Becca isn’t Elise. You can’t allow your mother to make your choices. She hurt you—not Becca. She left you—not Becca. Your mother failed to protect you—not Becca. Not all women are the same.”
I raised my eyebrows condescendingly without replying. My head felt heavy and my body hurt. I just wanted to sleep. Uma’s emotional responses were draining the last bit of energy left inside of my body. She wanted me to admit things I didn’t even understand.
Once again my mother had turned into Becca. Uma could say they weren’t the same. They were.
They were both going to leave me broken, with my shell, with myself.
And I would let her.
Because I had a feeling a week with Becca, a month, a year, would be worth the time I spent forever without her.
It was all a guy like me deserved. A small, incredible gift I would always cherish.
Chapter Fifteen
Becca
“Damn it,” I growled, messing up my fourth drink order of the night.
I tossed the botched tornado into the basin and restarted, making sure to pour the liqueurs so the blue hovered above the clear rum. It still looked like shit, but I wasn’t in the mood to bother. I slammed the drink down on in front of the customer. She gave me a bitchy expression, one I wanted to slap right off her pretty little face, and then threw a ten dollar bill at me.
“I want my change,” she demanded.
I considered shoving her change up her tight ass.
“It’s on the house,” Max said, taking her money from my fist and handing it back to her. “Next one too,” he promised.
She beamed and winked at him, taking her tornado and money and bouncing away. I detested women who bounced. If you were hot, why did you need to jiggle?
“What’s wrong with you tonight? You’re off your game.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Becca,” he warned, grabbing my upper arm when I tried to move around him. “Your eyes are bloodshot. You’re jittery, occupied, and you’ve barked about ten heads off tonight. Talk to me.”
I sighed and bit my lip, chewing on it. It was almost midnight and James hadn’t showed. My texts remained unanswered as well. He’d been so broken when I left. I knew I shouldn’t have left him in that state, but I needed this job and Max was already lenient enough when it came to me. James’s lost, anguished expression came back to me. Those eyes, those sharp blue soul-sucking gems, should never look that sad, that empty. They deserved unbridled happiness. Not the darkness I witnessed taking him over.
An uneasy feeling invaded my body when his first text went unanswered. After the fourth text and his no-show my chest had tightened with apprehension. I couldn’t concentrate, nor did I want to.
“Becca.” Max grabbed my chin delicately and made it so I could see his face. “What’s wrong?”
My expression must have given more away than I intended because his mouth turned down and he urged me through the back and into his office. He slammed his door shut and pointed to the chair across from his desk. There was a picture of a pregnant Claire on his desk, beaming at the camera and holding her small baby bump. ‘PROUD MOMMA’ was inscribed over the top in an elegant font.
I picked up the picture and cracked a smile. “Nerd.”
Max chuckled. “I love that nerd.”
I set the picture down and sat back, trailing a hand through my hair. I was nearing something. An edge, a breaking point, a precipice—whatever it was, it was going to destroy me. My body felt stiff, tensed, anticipating it. Anxiety wasn’t an uncommon emotion for me. As a child it ate me alive. I’d managed to shove it aside when I got older. I didn’t have time to worry about how I felt when I had to take care of Rain, work, and make sure she had what she needed. Now, however, it was coming back alarmingly fast, almost as if it had never left me. I’d just managed to live around it—the pit in my stomach, the fear in my chest, the inability to breathe, and the feeling like my bones were going to crack underneath the pressure.
“Claire told me about James. Is that why you’re so upset?”
Big mouth. “It’s not only about James. It’s everything.” I looked up at his kind brown eyes and nearly broke down. I was breaking down too much lately. It had to stop. Strength? You still there? “It’s Rain, it’s me, it’s yesterday and tomorrow, and,” I breathed, “it’s James. We all have pasts,” I explained half-heartedly. “And I think both of our pasts are catching up to us at the same time.”
He stared at me intently, in big brother mode. “Anything I can do, babe?”
“You can let me leave early so I can check on him. He won’t answer his texts.” My voice trembled. Why wasn’t he answering me?
“If you need time off I’ll give it to you. I can advance you some money also, if that’s what you need. Whatever you want, you can have it. You know that.”
Normally I would deny his offer of money. I worked for my income. Doing nothing for something had never been my idea of self-sufficient. Just this once I didn’t think pushing away his help would benefit me. My strength was slowly seeping out of me. I had to plug up the holes or I’d deflate and meet the cold hard surface of the ground soon.
If my strength was gone I wasn’t sure that I would even bother to get up this time.
I could barely meet his eyes. “I could use the money.”
He got up and walked over to his safe, punched in a code, and then came away with his checkbook. After he reclaimed his seat he wrote me a check, signed his name, Max Clarke, on the dotted line, and then held it out with nothing but concern on his face. I took the check hesitantly, waiting for someone to poke their head in his of
fice and call me out on my weakness. I cringed and deposited it in my pocket just in case.
“Asking for help isn’t a bad thing.” Max sighed sadly. “You and Rain share a lot of the same issues. She distrusts everyone and you don’t need anyone. When are you two going to realize you can rely on people? Not everyone is going to hurt you.”
Whatever happened to the light, unemotional conversations? The vapid, boring exchanges that meant nothing to either side? Although I had a feeling those conversations had a hand in getting me to this place. Emotions were natural. But I wasn’t natural and I’d done my best to ignore mine and now they were revolting against me, demanding to be set free.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
He steepled his fingers and appraised me closely. “Since you’re scaring away my customers tonight, I think it’s probably better to let you go. You have the week off too. Come back on Monday. Same shift. But call me later, and tomorrow. So I know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay now.” Something told me I wouldn’t be in the mood to talk to anyone. My anxiety heightened, making my body tense. I didn’t need Max checking in on me every hour. Since when were people not allowed to have a mental and emotional breakdown? “And thank you, Max. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Claire.” I rose from my seat and went around his desk to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You need to shave.”
He grunted. “Claire likes it,” he explained, scraping his fingers down his scruff.
I understood why. James’s scruff was still fresh in my mind. Thoughts of him made me oddly yearning. My normal reaction was to immediately cease them in their tracks. You never yearned for a man and you can’t start now. But this one time I admitted to myself that I did.
I yearned for James and nothing was going to make me forget it, not even the part of me who lived her life for herself.
She wasn’t falling apart.
I was.
So she could shove it up her strong ass.
“Later,” Max said, eyeing me intently as I backed out of his office.
On my way out of Second Chances I ducked into Raul’s office to get my things. He was inside on the phone when I busted in. I waved my apology and reached around his body to get my purse where I’d left it.
He finished his call and hung up, looking me over disapprovingly. “Are you leaving early?”
I wasn’t in the mood for his hard-ass behavior. “Max is my boss, Raul. Not you.”
He grabbed my arm when I tried to leave. “What’s your problem, cariño? You haven’t looked at me like you wanted me to take your ass in a long time.”
I pulled on my arm, glaring at him to let me go. I was seconds from falling apart and I would not let this man witness that. The only man who could was out there falling apart by himself. I could sense it in the air; in my heart. What happened to James for him to earn that broken pained look in his eyes? “Let me go, Raul.”
“I never thought I’d miss it,” he drawled. He pulled me down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m free when I get off. If you want to wait for me at my place we can make this happen?”
His arms around me felt…wrong. Too strong, too enclosing. When James held me it felt more protective than entrapping. I hadn’t even known I wanted to be protected until Raul pulled me against his chest. I didn’t want Raul anymore. I didn’t want any of these men. I needed them to escape, to run, to make the loneliness in my heart go away even if for one second. But I didn’t want them. And they didn’t want me. If we continued to use each other I would be the only one who suffered.
“Of course you wait until now.” I pushed away from him and stood, fixing my shirt from where it had ridden up. “Let’s get something straight here. That little sexy game we’ve been playing was just that, a game. You took too long to make a move. It’s done, Raul. Now give me my purse so I can go.”
“Is it that guy you came in with the other day?” he guessed, reaching his hand out to settle it on my hip. His dark eyes roamed over my body. “The one with pussy written all over his neck with that hickey? You must really be afraid to mark a man that bad.” He tried to urge me closer. “You don’t have to be afraid with me. Sex isn’t scary. But I think you know that.”
“I’m not afraid,” I growled, shoving around his body to grab my purse. “And don’t act like you know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
Get out of here before you blow.
“You’re terrified. I can see it in your eyes. You’re running around here like you’re running from yourself. You love him?”
I left without responding, fearing my response more than I feared his question. Once in my car I locked my doors and took a deep breath. I could try his phone one more time.
Becca: Please answer me James. Just say yes so I know Ur okay. Please.
I waited twenty minutes before I accepted he wasn’t going to answer. James always answered me. Even when I ignored him, when I left him, ran from him, James never pushed me away. It was one of the things that drew me to him. Men were always quick to punish, to throw our games back in our faces. What had I done, leaving him alone like that? He’d fallen right in front of me, shaking, eyes bleeding his pain. I’d left him, again. It was my first instinct to take care of myself after taking care of Rain. I’d never had to put someone else first, and especially not a man. Men came last, when I wanted them, right where I wanted them.
But James was a man who deserved to come first. Every time.
I let that admittance wash over me until I was hyperventilating in the front seat, panicking about the strangling feeling overtaking my heart. It was warm and suffocating, comfortable and painful.
Needing to move, I started my car and left in a daze. When I got home I drove around the parking lot at the apartment complex searching for James’s truck. It wasn’t where it normally was. He wasn’t home. Why wasn’t he home?
And why did the idea bother me so much? He was an adult male with a life outside of me. He could leave if he wanted, go anywhere, and be with anyone. We hadn’t promised each other anything. But it felt like we had. Like he promised me something. Now where the hell was he so I could promise him the same thing?
I parked my car in his spot and took the stairs slowly. My body felt poised for an attack as I knocked on the apartment door. Five minutes later Josh answered, shirtless and rumpled from sleep. I could smell beer on him and women’s perfume, some floral heavy scent that made me nauseous.
“I don’t think the dweeb is here,” he grumbled, voice thick with sleep. “You need to get a key.” He closed the door after me and ran a hand through his hair, yawning bearishly.
“Don’t call him a dweeb.” I let him know how close I was to the edge, how far I’d go right now to establish some control. Kicking his ass wasn’t crossed off my list yet. “The only one here with a problem is you. You want to make another one?” I shoved at his chest, putting all my strength into the action. “What’s wrong with James? It is because he’s everything you’re not?” I shoved him again, this time into the wall. “It is because he’s gorgeous and you’re mediocre? Is it because he’s sweet and you’re a prick? Is it because he’s probably the most perfect guy in this entire world and you’re nothing but a sad, pathetic lay? Call him one more name, make him feel bad about himself one more time, and I will rip your balls off and mail them back to your mother.” One more shove sent him harder into the wall.
Josh stared at me in shock, his eyes wide as he clutched at his chest. “Becca…”
“Save it. It’s people like you that make him feel bad about himself. People who teased him and bullied him. There’s nothing wrong with James. He can’t hear, but he’s still a million times more special than you’ll ever be!”
“I didn’t…dude, Becca, I’m sorry. Calm down.”
“Shove it, Josh.” I stomped past his shocked body and slammed James’s door behind me so hard the windows in his room rattled.
I kicked off my boots and exchanged my jeans for the p
ajama pants he was wearing this morning. I didn’t realize what that meant until I’d tied the strings around my waist. He changed his pants. His dresser drawer was open and there was an empty space where a pair of jeans had been. His backpack was gone as well, leaving behind his textbooks, pencils, and notebooks scattered all over the floor. If I looked more closely his room looked off, empty, things taken and thrown in a rush.
Swallowing hard, I opened his other dressers, finding empty holes among his shirts and underwear. He did his laundry recently. Nothing should be missing. In his bathroom I searched his countertop. His toothbrush was gone and so was his toothpaste. Oddly enough, his hairbrush was still there. I snapped the light off, a sense of numbness taking me over.
James was gone.
He left.
Why did he leave?
The only explanation I could come up with was one I didn’t normally consider. In this case it was difficult not to. There weren’t many options to choose from. He left because of me. I’d invaded his space, stepped within his shell, and he’d left to get away from me.
I hadn’t meant to step within his shell. I just wanted his protection, his strength.
And so it happened. It hit me like a truck, propelling me forward with only one outcome. One minute I was standing and the next I was falling. The ground was just as hard as I remembered. It hurt just as badly. I looked around for my father, but he was gone. He was never there. I needed to accept that. I needed to move on from him. His neglect hurt a part of me I failed to embrace. It showed me things at such an early age that I’ve lived by these rules to protect myself from the pain. But I wasn’t protecting myself anymore. I was hurting myself.
The past was hurting me.
I crawled into James’s bed and curled up on his side, hugging his pillow to my chest like a lovesick woman. I rolled around in his sheets, keeping him for a moment longer. I inhaled the scent of him, his cologne, his soap, his warm, pale skin.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 21