by Ashley Jade
Jackson's back is turned away from the door so he doesn't notice when it opens ever so slightly, but I do.
Just like I can't help but notice that Ricardo is hanging back in the shadows, purposely eavesdropping on our conversation.
Given what I know I have to do within the next few hours, I decide to twist the knife even deeper, knowing he'll hear every single word.
"I've never had a guy look at me the way you look at her," I start. "I've never had someone defend me the way that you defend her. Or protect me, or care about me. I've never had someone in my corner...not once. I mean, why the hell do you think I'm like this in the first place?"
Jackson pushes past me. "I'm sorry about that, Lou-Lou. I really am. But, it still doesn't make it right."
"I know, Jackson. Trust me, I know. That's why I came to apologize."
"I can't forgive you," he says and I feel my lower lip tremble because this whole situation is so fucked up and all I want to do is run out the door to Ricardo and make everything right between us...but I can't.
"I'm not saying that I'll never forgive you," Jackson amends. "Just not this second."
I lift my chin and that's when Ricardo's eyes connect with mine.
His eyes are glassy and he looks absolutely crestfallen.
I'm so gutted seeing him like this, I have to stop myself from calling out his name and running into his arms.
"Okay. I can understand that." I look down, my heart in my throat. "It's more than Ricardo's willing to give me," I whisper, only a beat away from breaking down altogether.
When I look back up, Ricardo's gaze hardens and he shoots me such a venomous look I feel it in my bones before he leaves altogether.
It's at this very moment it occurs to me that Ricardo and I never actually stood a chance in the first place.
Our end was over before we even began.
Because try as we might— there's no way we could ever make one another whole...because one-half of the puzzle will always be cracked.
Me.
Because I'm too fucked up and too damaged.
Too damaged to love someone the right way. Too afraid of someone breaking me.
I have to brace myself as a tear trickles down my cheek with my next thought.
It turns out I didn't have to be afraid of anyone breaking me after all...because I was already broken.
Ricardo knew it...and yet he still tried to love me. All while knowing that sooner or later my sharp pieces would end up taking him down with me.
Because everyone knows...a wrecking ball swings in both directions before destroying its target.
When I look up I see Jackson heading for the door. "Jackson," I call out, surprising myself.
He sighs deeply. "Yeah?"
"Word of advice? Since Alyssa and I are a lot alike."
He turns around to face me. "You're nothing alike. She's not—"
He couldn't be more wrong.
"Damaged?" I laugh. "Trust me, that girl is as broken as they come. It takes a damaged soul to know one. And just because she's trusting you enough to open up to you...it doesn't mean she's cured. It doesn't mean that her demons are gone. They're only temporarily camouflaged until something causes them to flare up again." I point a finger at him. "Because let me tell you something about the broken people, Jackson. If you hurt us...we hurt deeper than others. If you hurt us...you drudge up every past hurt that we've ever experienced and send us into a tailspin right back down the rabbit hole."
He opens his mouth to say something but I'm not finished yet. "Whether you mean to hurt us or not. It doesn't matter, because once we're in that tailspin...how do you think we cope? What do you think our go-to is? It's a vicious cycle and we end up taking down a lot of good people with us. People like you, Jackson. So be careful."
He slams the door behind him and I can only hope that for his sake, he listens to my warning.
I rub slow circles over my stomach and bring my cell phone to my ear. "Hey, Emilio. I'm ready when you are."
Chapter 15 (Ricardo)
I don't like what happened at Jackson's fight tonight.
Granted, he won. Which of course, I knew he would—despite the fact that his opponent was at least 3 inches taller and about 45lbs heavier than him.
But what really put me on edge? Was that he was hit not once, but twice in the cage tonight. And the last hit almost knocked the wind out of him.
He's losing focus...and he can't afford to do that. Especially if he's going to be hanging around Alyssa.
On the bright side...at least he made it clear that she was never allowed to come down to the club.
That's one potential problem eliminated...for now.
But either way, I need to have another talk with him.
I know he's supposed to be going out with Alyssa tonight...but I don't have a good feeling about it.
Therefore, I'm going to do something I've never done before.
I'm going to forbid him to go out with her.
He's not going to be happy about it...but it's the only way to keep the both of them safe.
The two lovebirds can have a cozy night in at home.
I make my way over to the fighter's dressing room.
I'm about to walk in but the sound of Lou-Lou's voice stops me in my tracks.
"I've never had a guy look at me the way you look at her," she says. "I've never had someone defend me the way that you defend her. Or protect me, or care about me. I've never had someone in my corner...not once. I mean, why the hell do you think I'm like this in the first place?"
Her statement causes my chest to cave in and makes it hard to breathe. I would have done anything for her. How could she not realize that?
I might not have defended her the way she wanted me to due to our circumstances...but I've always protected her.
Not only did I blow up my DeLuca's house for her...but I killed for her. Not that she knows I killed Luke...but still.
And God knows...I cared about her.
Hell, I still do.
The fact that she can't even register all that...can only mean one thing.
She never will.
No matter how many bombs I set off, no matter how many people I murder for her, no matter how much of myself I offer up to her on a silver platter...her perception will always be warped.
Because I didn't fix her like I told her I would.
Because my love wasn't enough to fix her.
I gave her my entire heart and soul...loved her with every single part of me— and it still wasn't good enough.
He pushes past her. "I'm sorry about that, Lou-Lou. I really am. But, it still doesn't make it right."
"I know, Jackson. Trust me, I know. That's why I came to apologize."
It's a strange feeling to be so enraged with someone...yet find yourself feeling proud of them for apologizing and taking responsibility for their actions.
The pendulum that my hearts hanging from begins to swing to the other side...but her words from a moment ago blast through my head like a cannon.
"I can't forgive you," he says. "I'm not saying that I'll never forgive you...just not this second."
She lifts her chin and our eyes connect for what feels like the last time.
It's at this moment...I know we're truly done. I feel it.
"Okay. I can understand that." She looks down. "It's more than Ricardo's willing to give me."
The icy death grip on my heart tightens and my fingers dig into my palms until I feel them start to bleed. I would have been willing to give her everything.
I'm so infuriated, I have to walk away. The situation with Jackson can wait until I've calmed down.
I need to get away from her. I can't even stand to be under the same roof as she is right now.
I'm tired of fighting with her.
I'm tired of not being enough.
And I'm so fucking tired of her hurting me.
I grit my teeth as I watch Jackson walk up the stairs with a bouquet of roses in his ha
Casanova's pulling out all the stops tonight.
Damn. I never got the chance to tell him that I don't want him going out.
I feel like an asshole...but then I remind myself of my reasons for being an asshole.
Someone has to look out for them. And that someone is me.
And just because Alyssa's videos are down, it doesn't mean people won't recognize her. And if they give her any shit— which of course they will because people suck— Jackson will beat the crap out of them, or worse.
He's got one hell of a hero complex and combined with his insane rage...that's just asking for trouble.
But, since I'm not a total asshole...I grab a vase for him.
I'd be willing to bet anything he doesn't have one of these laying around.
Hell, I didn't either. Not until I bought a shitload of them for Lou-Lou's birthday that night.
I walk out to the hallway and can't help but look in the direction of her door.
Like a magnetic pull, I find myself standing directly in front of it a minute later.
I want to use my key, but considering how things are between us, I know I don't have that privilege anymore.
Before I can stop myself, I knock a few times, but as usual...she doesn't answer.
"It's me," I say, feeling like an idiot for talking to a door. "I just came by to say— " I stop because I don't know what I came by to say. I shouldn't even be here.
I turn to walk away, but before I do, I find myself uttering, "I just want you to know, your safe spot is always open for you, Lou-Lou."
When there's no response...my concern outweighs my manners and I take my key out.
I search the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and finally the bathroom.
She's obviously out for the evening.
Cursing under my breath I take my phone out and text her.
Ricardo: I'm in your apartment. Where are you?
When she doesn't answer, I fight the urge to throw my phone against the wall. Instead, I dial Emilio's number. I don't even wait for him to say hello before I start right in. "Where is she?"
He grunts. "Is this gonna be a daily and nightly occurrence now?"
I ignore him. "She's not in her apartment. It's past 10 at night. I just want to know that she's okay."
"She's fine," he says. "I'm watching her right now. I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd call."
"Watching her? Where?"
He lights a cigarette. "She's at a club."
Out of all the things I expected him to tell me, this didn't even make the top 5 on my list. "What?"
"She called DeLuca earlier and asked if she could have a night out. He agreed but only if I went with her to keep an eye on her."
"That's strange," I say, because nothing about this sounds right.
Unless... "Is she using?"
He pauses for a moment too long before saying. "I haven't seen her shoot up tonight if that's what you're asking."
"Well, has she gone to the bathroom? Gone outside? Danced with anyone?"
He sighs. "She went to the bathroom once. She hasn't gone outside. And she danced with maybe two guys but neither of them looked like drug dealers and I didn't see them slip her anything."
"What club is she at?" I growl, because it's obvious that Emilio doesn't give a fuck about keeping her safe with the shitty job he's doing.
"Nope," he says. "I'm not telling you. It's for your own good, Ricardo. If DeLuca finds out you marched into a club and yanked her out of it when he gave her permission to be here, he's going to know something's up between you two. Besides, she's only going to be here for a few more hours. I've got this," he says before hanging up the phone.
Goddammit. I don't know if I'm more pissed because he's right, or the situation in general.
I close the door behind me before heading to Jackson's.
When he answers, I hand him the vase. "Here, take this."
He raises an eyebrow. "You could probably give Ms. Cleo a run for her money. How did you know I'd need this?"
"Saw you walking up the stairs with flowers. Figured it would come in handy." I grin. "Although I am surprised that you and Tyrone's bromance hasn't reached the level of flowers."
"I wouldn't be one to talk, Ricardo," he taunts. "You're the one who just happened to have a vase." He points across the hall. "Last time I checked, that was a one bedroom apartment. Tell me, what color flowers do you like to get yourself?"
I look down, silently cursing Lou-Lou's name."It's not mine. I had it for...someone."
I hear footsteps approaching. "Oh hey, Ricardo. Thanks," Alyssa says while taking the vase from Jackson.
I look up and utter another silent curse. "No problem," I say. "Wow, you look gorgeous."
Yeah, this is most definitely going to be a problem. Alyssa looks beautiful tonight. That short dress alone will cause Jackson to get into a few fights.
But then I see the smile on her face and guilt wraps its tentacles around me.
I know she doesn't go out a lot...not since that sex tape got leaked anyway.
She beams at me and the tentacles get tighter. "Thanks. It's my birthday. Jackson's taking me out to a club."
Oh, hell. I can't believe I forgot it was her birthday...I out of all people should know.
I just can't find it in me to ruin her night. Which means, I'm going out tonight, too.
"Well, I hope you have a good night," I say. "You really deserve to have a good birthday, Alyssa."
She glances up and gives me a weird look, then she shakes her head.
Ah, fuck...please don't figure it out.
"Thanks, Ricardo. I'm um—" She pauses. "I'm gonna go put my flowers in water."
"Have a good night," I say again before I turn around and walk to my apartment.
The night hasn't even started and I'm already positive it can't get any worse.
I turn my attention to the bar and take another shot when I see Jackson and Alyssa making out like a pair of horny teenagers against the wall of the club.
I'm still not happy about it...but there's something special between those two.
Well, other than their tongues at the moment.
I'm about to turn back around, but my eyes catch sight of a petite brunette on the dance floor. My senses are on high alert and I immediately stand up, intending to walk over to her...but then she turns around.
The disappointment that floods my chest when I realize it's the wrong petite brunette is brutal.
I slam my glass down and signal for the bartender so I can order another whiskey.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jackson and Alyssa head for the exit of the club. I breathe a sigh of relief, happy they're on their way home for the night.
The bartender fills my glass and I relish the slight burn it provides as I down the entire thing and signal for one more. I don't drink very often, but I'd say my life turning to complete shit in the last 55 hours is a pretty damn good reason to start.
I'm taking a sip of my new drink when someone bumps into me. I clench my fists because I'm really not in the mood to deal with some obnoxious asshole tonight.
"Oops," a female voice says.
The voice sounds vaguely familiar but I can't quite place it. "It's fine," I say, not bothering to turn around.
"Oh, my God. Ricardo? I thought that was you," the voice coos.
I look up just in time to see Scarlet out of all people plopping down on the stool next to me.
I tip my drink in the direction of the ceiling. "Yeah, God. You're on a fucking roll tonight," I say before downing it.
"How have you been?" Scarlet continues, even though I'm not paying her any mind.
When I don't answer, her hands slides up my arm. I instinctively pull away. "I'm sorry," she says. "I forgot how weird you are when it comes to all that stuff." She scrunches her face. "You look like you've had a shit night. Wanna talk about it?"
I swirl the ice around in my glass. "No offense, Scar. But I'm pretty sure you're the last person I should be talking to about this." I give her a look. "Shouldn't you be traveling the world or some shit with the small fortune you earned a few months ago."
She ignores my last statement and lifts a shoulder. "Well, no offense, Ricardo—but I had a feeling that bitch was going to do a number on you." Her lips turn up in a smug smile. "Should have just stuck with me. We had a good thing going."
I rub the back of my neck and avert my gaze. What Scarlet and I had was nothing compared to what Lou-Lou and I had.
But on the other hand...what Scarlet and I had didn't leave me feeling like I'm being sucker punched in the heart repeatedly.
I take out my wallet and throw a few bills on the bar. "I guess that depends on your definition of a 'good thing', huh?"
When I stand up, she wraps her arms around my waist. "Scarlet," I growl. "Hands off."
She doesn't listen. Instead, her hand ventures lower.
It's never okay to punch a woman, I remind myself.
I place my hand on top of hers but she stands up and her lips hover over my ear. "I can help you fuck her out of your system," she whispers. "You can be as rough as you want with me."
She cups my balls and I mutter a curse. "You can take me in the alley, pretend I'm her, and fuck all that hate away."
Maybe it's the few glasses of whiskey...or maybe it's the way my balls ache at the thought of hate fucking the living shit out of Lou-Lou against a wall that does it, but when Scarlet takes my hand and leads me to the back exit— I don't protest.
As soon as we get outside, she's all over me. Unzipping my jeans, clawing at my chest, attempting to kiss me.
I close my eyes and try my hardest to pretend it's Lou-Lou but Scarlet's pleas for me to fuck her grate on my goddamn nerves. "Shut up," I bark to a stunned Scarlet.
I've never been this much of an asshole to her...but hey— she's the one who offered herself up to use like a cheap toy.
I shove her against the dumpster. "Make one more sound and I walk away."
She nods and I move her dress up over her hips. "The only person I like to hear beg for my cock is her...not you. Understood?"
A crease forms between her eyebrows and her mouth drops open. "But...she's not even anything special," she blurts out while reaching for my face.
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