Inevitable: Carter Kids #5

by Chloe Walsh

  "Can we pretend it didn’t happen?" she whispered from her huddling position on my couch. She flashed me one of those terrified puppy-dog expressions that usually made me cave and whispered, "Please? Can't we just go back to before?"

  "Not this time, HC," I replied with a shake of my head.

  The pain that flashed in her eyes almost broke me then, but I couldn’t keep lying to feed this fucked up denial she seemed to drowning in.

  "Tonight was…different," I whispered. More. "I can't go back to before." Not after being inside you…

  I wasn’t going to make it easy for her to leave me this time.

  "Everything's changed," she whispered, looking over at me. "Hasn’t it?"

  I nodded. "Yeah."

  "I don’t want to lose you," she sobbed.

  "You're not going to."

  "I already have," she urged. "Don’t you get that?" Shaking her head, she exhaled a choked sob and said, "It's all gone now."

  "No, Hope," I countered, forcing myself not to go to her. "It's not."

  "We can't be friends anymore," she sobbed. "Not after what we just did."

  "I'm not walking away from you," I shot back without hesitation.

  "But I have to walk away from you," she whispered. "It's the only way."

  If she didn’t have feelings for me, she wouldn’t be acting so irrationally.

  If this was purely platonic for her, like she said it was, she would have been able to brush this under the table and move on.

  Knowing that she felt the need to cut me out of her life only assured me that I was affecting her.

  One of these days she was going to wake up and have a come to Jesus moment.

  She fucking had to.

  Because the thought of her wasting her life on a man she thought she loved while I was forced to watch from the sidelines, made me want to claw my fucking heart out.

  "You can try and erase me all you want," I told her. She could build all the walls she wanted. I wasn’t her husband. I wasn’t the one who ran away from what he wanted. And I wanted her. "But we both know I'm not going to let that happen."

  "I need some time."

  "Time."

  "Yes, Hunter. Time."

  "You can take all the time you want. Keep rebuilding those walls and I'll keep smashing them."

  "Why are you doing this to me?"

  "Because you want me to."

  "No. I don’t."

  "Who's lying now?"

  "You're crazy to get involved with me," she whispered. "It's going to end badly."

  "I know."

  She raised a brow. "But you're not running?"

  "I don’t run."

  The sound of a knock on my apartment door filled my ears then, breaking the moment between us.

  "Oh god," Hope groaned. Grabbing a cushion, she covered her face and whispered, "Don’t let him kill me, 'kay?"

  "Okay," I chuckled as I got to my feet and walked over to open the door.

  "Care to explain what my sister is doing in your apartment, drunk off her face, at one in the morning? Cam Carter hissed, glaring at me like I was the devil incarnate. "Well?"

  Okay, so his anger was directed at me.

  "Come on in," I drawled.

  Shoving past me, Cam stalked into my apartment like a man on a mission. "Oh, I fucking intend to."

  When his gaze landed on Hope, he exhaled what sounded like a sigh of relief and shook his head.

  "You think you can hide from me?" He marched over to where his sister was sitting on the couch. Crouching down in front of her, he took the cushion she was still holding against her face and said, "You were always terrible at hide and seek."

  "I'm drunk," she admitted, staring at her brother in shame.

  "So?" he countered softly in a tone that sounded entirely unlike him.

  "And sad," she added, biting down on her bottom lip. "I'm really sad, Cam."

  "Don't be sad," he whispered, patting her knee. "I'm here to take you home."

  "That's what I'm sad about," she whispered before throwing her arms around her brother, and damn if my heart didn’t crack clean open at her confession.

  It almost killed me to call him tonight, but I knew it was the right thing to do by Hope.

  If I had my way, I'd keep her right here in this apartment and never let her go back. I knew with a little persuasion it could happen. She was miserable and unsure and starved for attention.

  But I cared about her wellbeing too damn much to be selfish with her like that.

  Besides, I didn’t want her to wake up in the morning and hate us both.

  "Come on, Hopey-bear," Cam finally sighed, tone weary and laced with concern.

  He stood up in one swift move and tucked her under his arm. "Staying here won't make you feel better."

  "I know," she sighed. "You're right."

  "I'm always right," Cam agreed as he walked his sister to the door.

  When he reached the door, he turned to look me dead in the eye. "I'll be back to talk about this."

  I didn’t doubt it.

  "I'll be waiting," I replied evenly.

  And then they were gone.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  HOPE

  "I'm in trouble, Cam." The words, hard as they were to admit, spewed out of my mouth, the urge to be comforted by the only other outcast in my family strong. "So much trouble."

  "It's going to be okay," Cam assured me as he buckled me into the passenger seat of his Range Rover.

  Seconds later, he was sitting beside me in the driver's seat and cranking the engine. He put the truck into gear and pulled out of his parking space.

  "He kissed me tonight," I sobbed. "And I kissed him back."

  "Lucky?"

  I nodded in shame.

  You did worse than let him kiss you, you little tramp…

  "Well, shit," Cam muttered.

  Yeah, shit!

  "What am I going to do?" I wailed. Jordan's face entered my mind and I cringed in disgust. "I'm a terrible person."

  "You're not a terrible person," Cam shot back.

  "Omigod." I paled. "I'm Bryan Adams in Run to You." Turning to Cam, I gaped at him. "George in Careless Whisper." Whimpering in horror, I choked out, "Hunter is Dirty Diana and I am Michael!"

  "It was a kiss, Hope," Cam scoffed.

  I squirmed in discomfort, my face flaming with heat.

  "It was just a kiss," Cam added slowly. "Right?"

  I stared at him, unable to get the words out of my mouth and tell him what a horrible human being I was.

  "Jesus, Hope," Cam groaned, reading the expression on my face like a book.

  "I didn’t do any of this on purpose, Cam," I whispered, forcing myself not to cry. "I feel fucking horrible."

  "I know." He sighed heavily before saying, "Christ, I saw this crazy-train coming a mile away."

  "You did?"

  "Come on, Hope," Cam growled. "Anyone within a thirty-mile radius of you two this past year could have seen this coming. The guy adores you," he added. "Fucking worships the ground you walk on."

  "No, he doesn’t," I protested. "We were only supposed to be friends."

  "Friends," Cam scoffed. "Let me tell you something, Sis. Luck's my friend, too, but I'd be seriously fucking worried if he looked at me the way he looks at you."

  "Oh, god," I wailed. "It's all so fucked up!"

  "Yeah, it is," Cam agreed.

  "What do I do?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "How am I supposed to tell Jordan?" I choked out his name like it was poison on my tongue. "He's going to hate me."

  "You're going to tell him?"

  "You think I shouldn’t?"

  Cam shrugged. "Hell if I know, Hope."

  "God," I sobbed. "I fucked up so badly."

  "I know."

  "Then help me!"

  "What am I supposed to do, Hope?" Cam shot back. "We're not kids anymore. I can't barge into the playground and kick their asses for upsetting you."

 
"I know. But I just… I need someone to fix me."

  "You're not broken."

  "I feel broken."

  "You're drunk," he countered. "You'll feel better in the morning."

  "I'll never feel better again."

  "Don’t be so dramatic."

  "Tell me what to do here, Cam?" I begged. "Please, just tell me!"

  "Just… follow your heart," Cam tossed out, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "And don’t worry about what anyone else thinks," he added, tone soft and reassuring. "Mom will get over it. And as for Dad?" Cam shook his head and exhaled heavily. "He's got your back, Hopey-Bear. Always. Same as the rest of us."

  "I'm not leaving Jordan," I blurted out, horrified at the thought. "How could you even suggest that?"

  "Listen, Hope. You're not the first person in the world to fall in love with two people," he stated calmly. "And you won't be the last."

  "What are you talking about?" I shook my head in horror and held a finger up in protest. "I'm not in love with Lucky!"

  "Of course, you're not," he shot back sarcastically. "You were begging me to leave you back there because you're not in love with him. You kissed him back tonight because you're not in love with the guy." He muttered a string of incomprehensible curse words under his breath before saying, "And you stare at him like he hung the fucking moon because you really don’t love him. I'm not blind, Hope Carter, and you're not stupid."

  "I don’t!" I slurred, twisting in my seat to glare at him. "I only love Jordan."

  I didn’t love Hunter.

  I couldn’t love him.

  I wouldn’t love him.

  I refused to allow this man to disrupt my carefully compiled future.

  He was wrong for me. Wild, unattainable, dangerous.

  I did not want that.

  "Goddammit, Hope," Cam hissed, losing his patience. "Don't you realize how fucking pathetic you look? Traipsing around after a guy who jilted you?" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel with temper. "Do you think we're all blind and can't see how fucking miserable you are with him? Well, we do. I see it. And so does Dad."

  There he was!

  The Cam I knew and loathed.

  "Goddammit, you're so stupid, Hope!" he continued to say. "So fucking stupid."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You want to have what Mom and Dad have so badly that you're blinded to the fact that you're fucking it up for yourself."

  "You don’t know anything about my situation, Cam!"

  "I know you're miserable."

  "Shut up, Cam," I growled, folding my hands across my chest. "I'm not talking about this with you anymore."

  "Because you don’t want to hear the truth," Cam hissed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, news flash, sweetheart; the truth hurts!"

  "He was raped!" I screamed. "I can't just walk away from him because things are hard right now." Tears were beginning to fill my eyes. "It's going to get better – he's going to get better." He has to. "And everything will be like it was before."

  "Cut the shit, Hope!" Cam shot back. "It's not going to get better. This is who Jordan is now. This is what his life has molded him into, and god knows I don’t blame the poor fucking man for being the way he is. If it had been me in his shoes back then, I'd have slit my goddamn wrists a long time ago. But I'd be a liar if I said I don’t think it's a fucking crime that you're basing your future on the guilt you feel for what happened in his past."

  "Please stop, Cam," I whispered, pressing my hand to my forehead. "I can’t hear this."

  "No!" my brother hissed. "I won't stop. Someone has to try and talk some goddamn sense into you!" Raising a hand, Cam roughly dragged his fingers through his hair, his expression one of sheer exasperation. "You don’t have to do what you're doing, Hope. You don’t need to be with him because that's what people expect from you. Goddamn! One of these days, you're going to have to stand on your own two feet. You're going to have to live your life for you and no one else. Sure, some people may not like it, but guess what? You don’t have to care. What they think about you is none of your business. Stop trying to please every damn person on this fucking planet. Step out from that golden girl shrine you've been hidden under your whole damn life and make a decision because it makes you happy – not him or anyone else."

  "I love him," I choked out.

  "Do you?" he countered. "Do you really love him? Be honest with yourself and think about it before you answer that question."

  "I don’t have to think about it," I screamed defensively, losing my patience. "I know my own mind, Cameron!" The fear of being hated and judged kept me from acknowledging what I truly felt inside – even to myself. "So just drop it!"

  "Then I don’t know what to tell you, Hope," Cam replied wearily. "I really don’t."

  He was quiet then, and didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

  I turned my face away and stared out the passenger window, but his words wouldn’t leave my mind.

  They continued to haunt me the rest of the drive home, and long after when I was tucked up in bed.

  I was not in love with Hunter Casarazzi.

  He had no part in my future.

  And I refused to entertain the notion.

  Even if my heart demanded otherwise.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  JORDAN

  "You're a shitty husband, Jordan Porter," Annabelle declared when I walked into the kitchen at a quarter after six on Friday morning. "An amazing friend," she amended. "But a fucking awful husband."

  Ryder was already seated in his highchair, digging into his breakfast, so I presumed he was the reason his momma was up this early.

  "Wow, thanks, Annie," I muttered, heading straight for the coffee pot. I knew I would never win husband of the year, but having Annabelle tell me that very thing first thing in the morning was depressing. "I'm fairly sure you covered the topic of just how shitty I am weeks ago."

  More than covered it.

  She'd given me a goddamn earful after the fight with Hope – and every day since.

  She wasn’t telling me anything I wasn’t already very aware of though.

  I was shitty.

  In every fucking way.

  "I heard you in there," she clarified, dropping her hands to her hips. "Talking to O Malley on the phone in the living room? You took another double shift." Annie shook her head and glared at me with obvious disapproval. "I know you're new to the whole marriage deal, Jay, but it's kind of mandatory to discuss these things with your wife before making decisions."

  I thought about defending myself, but decided I needed caffeine in my system before taking on the force of nature that was my best friend.

  Besides, deep down I knew she was right. I should have talked to Hope before I took on another shift at the hospital, but I wasn’t used to talking to anyone about anything to do with my life. I loved my job. I needed to work. It was my way of staying clean and focused.

  Besides, we weren't talking much about anything anymore.

  She was still mad as hell with me for fucking up the night she'd organized for us.

  I wanted to fix things between us, but I didn’t know how.

  And I was still dealing with her telling her family about my past.

  I couldn’t get past it.

  I felt so fucking tired from all of it.

  Every day I woke up weary and went to sleep exhausted.

  The medication I was on for my issues was strong enough to knock out a horse. Going about my day to day routine was all I felt able to do.

  Pathetic an excuse as it sounded, I was too worn down to put up much of a battle.

  "You've barely been home this week," Annie continued to quip, saying my thoughts aloud and making me cringe. "Actually, scratch that. You've barely been home since the girl got here!"

  "It's not your business, Annie," I snapped, pouring myself a mug of coffee. "You don’t know anything about it."

  "Do you know what day it was yesterday?" she demanded.

 
; "Thursday."

  "Funny," she deadpanned. "Real funny."

  "Fine," I conceded wearily. "What day was it?"

  "It was your wife's birthday," she exclaimed angrily. "And you didn’t remember!"

  My heart sank.

  I snatched my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen.

  Friday, May 13th

  "Shit," I whispered as guilt coursed through me. "Yesterday was the twelfth. I forgot."

  "I know you forgot," Annabelle shot back angrily. "And it's not good enough."

  "I'll make it up to her," I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach. "I'll… figure something out."

  "Don’t blow smoke up my ass, Jordan Porter," Annabelle shot back, not giving me an inch. "I know you better than you know yourself."

  Yeah, she was probably right there.

  Her no bullshit attitude around me was why we'd managed to remain friends for so long.

  Annabelle had always given it to me straight, and I had always loved that about her.

  Not so much this morning, though.

  "You won't make it up to her because you're avoiding her," she stated. "You've been snatching up extra hours at work every chance you get and spending next to no time at home with your family."

  "I need the money," I said, trying to argue my point, or at least give myself an out.

  "Not that badly," she chimed in, blue eyes locked on mine. "Go ahead and lie to yourself if it eases your guilt, but we both know you're using work as an avoidance technique." Her voice softened slightly when she added, "You know what happens when you burn out – and you will crash and burn if you don’t slow down."

  Yeah, I knew what happened.

  She did, too.

  "That's not what's happening here."

  "Are you sure?" Annie countered. "Because I've seen this behavior in you before. I've watched you use avoidance techniques to cope with stress, and I've also seen what happens when it blows up in your face." Sighing, she added, "It never works, Jay. You know that. Do you really want to end up back –"

  "Don't," I interrupted, holding up a hand to warn her off.

  I couldn’t talk about that.

  Not with Hope upstairs.

  "Please. Just…understand…" Pausing, I inhaled a calming breath before squeezing out, "I need your support here, Annie."