Let Me Heal You: Beautifully Broken Book 3

by Samantha Wolfe

  I didn't respond, not knowing what to say as I cried silently. He reached over and gently wiped a tear from my cheek.

  "I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad. I'm sorry I...fuck. See? There I go now." He let out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I just wanted to share what was going on with me. I don't want to keep things from you anymore after what happened." He leaned toward me and put his right hand on the back of my neck and touched his forehead to mine. "Please don't cry, baby. That's not what I wanted at all."

  So much for being calm and relaxed today. I guess it was too much to hope that I could let go of all my guilt in one day. Jensen leaned back a little, and started brushing the tears from my face with his fingers. His eyes glinted like he might cry too.

  "We're a couple fucking crybabies," I said in an attempt at levity. Anything to get us out of this funk we slipped into.

  He snorted out a laugh, and a corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile. His hand slid from my neck to my cheek. "Just another reason we were meant to be together." That got a smile out of me. His smile widened, then he pulled me close and kissed me senseless. When he was done his eyes were gleaming for an entirely different reason. He caressed his knuckles down the side of my face. "I love you."

  "I love you too," I replied wholeheartedly. "Now get us out of here before my wine wears off. I've got to make sure I'm still tipsy for you later."

  "Yes, ma'am." He nodded, still smiling, and put the Camaro into gear. We pulled out into the street to head toward Andy and Lydia's house. I may have succeeded in pulling Jensen out of his funk, but I was still lost in mine even as I pasted a smile on my face. This parole hearing was adding so much stress to my life, and now it was spreading out to the man I loved. The one person who didn't need anymore stress in his life. Here came the guilt again, and I was helpless to fight it.

  Chapter Eight

  Jensen

  "I'm going to ask Lydia to marry me," Andy announced. It was just the two of us standing on the deck off the back of his house. The girls were in the kitchen chatting, and Andy had dragged me out here to talk. Now I knew why. I was stunned speechless for a moment. We didn't sit around and talk about his relationship with Lydia, but I figured this was inevitable. I just hadn't expected this so soon. It took a year for them to move in together. They took their time with everything.

  "Congratulations, brother," I told him, and he glanced over at me with a smile. I raised my can of soda up, and he lifted his beer bottle. We clinked them against each other and took health swallows of our drinks. He stared at me with an expectant expression. "What?" I asked, perplexed by his stare.

  "You're not going to fuck with me about it?" he asked with an incredulous smile.

  "Why would I do that?" I asked him with a shake of my head.

  "Oh, I don't know," he said after a laugh. "Maybe because not that long ago you told me you were going to be a bachelor for the rest of your life, and that marriage was for fucking chumps."

  "When the hell did I say that?" I asked him, taken aback. I didn't remember saying that at all.

  "I think it was my New Years Eve party, right after I told you I was thinking about moving in with Lydia."

  "I was drunk off my ass," I laughed. "Why the fuck would you listen to anything I said that night?"

  "You told me that right before you hooked up with that blond chick that came with one of Lydia's girlfriends." He pointed his beer at me. "And I know you were drunk, because you barfed in my bathtub."

  I shook my head in response, and we lapsed into silence. I felt like we were talking about a stranger, like I didn't even recognize who that person was anymore. "I didn't know..." I trailed off as I stared off across Andy's tiny backyard.

  "Didn't know what?" Andy asked next to me. I hadn't realized I had said that out loud.

  "I...I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about," I said vehemently as I turned and met his eyes. "I'm glad you didn't listen to me. You and Lydia belong together."

  "I never knew you felt that way about my relationship with Lydia," Andy said quietly. "I just assumed you didn't care."

  "Why would you think I didn't care?" I asked, feeling a pang in my gut. "I never said that."

  "You've never shown any interest, never asked about it. I just assumed."

  A painful lump suddenly filled my throat. He thought I didn't care, and I felt like the shittiest friend on the planet. I'd never asked because, deep down, I had wanted what he had, I just hadn't been able to admit it to myself until now.

  "I was jealous," I said in the barest whisper.

  "What?" Andy asked when he couldn't make out my words.

  "I was jealous, Andy," I spoke louder as I looked away again, unable to meet his eyes when I thought I might start crying. Sydney was right. We were fucking crybabies. "I wanted what you had. I wanted someone to love me."

  I suddenly realized that I had been fucked up before the accident, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. Did that mean there was no fixing me if I had already been messed up in the head? I hadn't had one serious relationship since Delaney had fucked me over eight years ago, not until Sydney. I had a few girlfriends, but I had never felt the way I did about Sydney, and I ended up hurting all of them. I was so desperate for someone to love me and want me that I had let things hang on longer than I should have. I was such an asshole to those girls. My mind was reeling, and I felt my heart rate spike.

  "You do now," Andy said as he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I jerked away from Andy, feeling hypersensitive and not wanting to be touched. I moved to the other side of the deck out of his reach. I started breathing heavily as a panic attack hit me. The can of soda in my hand fell out of my limp fingers to thump on the wooden boards of the deck, the liquid spilling out as the can rolled away.

  "Jensen. Are you alright?" Andy said with concern, thankfully not coming any closer.

  "No! I need Sydney," I gasped out in desperation.

  "Calm down, brother. You're okay." Andy tried to reassure me as he stepped toward me.

  "Get her," I demanded as I backed away from him. "Right fucking now!"

  "Alright, alright," Andy conceded. He turned and hurried into the house as I sank down to my knees on the deck, pulling at my hair and rocking back and forth. Stark terror flooded me, and I had to fight the urge to run out of Andy's yard to God knows where, just to try to get away from my own fucked-up head. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to shut everything out. The tightness in my chest turned to pain, and it scared the shit out of me.

  "Jensen?" I heard her voice and felt her hand on my head. My eyes flashed open and I looked into her eyes, finding solace in them like I always did. She reached for my hands, so I laced my fingers through hers and clutched onto her for dear life.

  "Help me," I pleaded. "P...please. Can't b...breath."

  "Don't fight it, baby." She spoke calmly as she knelt down in front of me. "Remember? Relax into it. Let it flow through you."

  I nodded emphatically, trying to do what she told me. I started focusing on my breathing and trying to slow it down. I tried to stop fighting the fear and anxiety, let it do what it wanted. I can do this, goddamn it. I've done it before. Sydney let go of my hands and took my face between her palms, forcing me to meet her eyes again.

  "Jensen, you're safe and nothing can hurt you. Remember?" She caressed my cheek with gentle fingers. "Say it with me."

  "I...I'm safe," I forced out between panting breaths. "N...nothing. I'm a f...fucked up nothing."

  "Stop that," she snapped in annoyance, her eyes narrowing at me. "You know that's not true."

  I said nothing as I stared down at my hands, continuing to freak out inside, because that was the problem. I didn't know if that wasn't true right now. I was spiraling down into all these horrible thoughts about myself again, and I couldn't seem to stop it. She pulled my head against her chest and hugged me tight. I didn't even bother to hug her back.

  "What happened?" I heard her ask and couldn't
reply, but the question wasn't directed at me anyway.

  "I'm not sure," I heard Andy answer her. He knelt down next to us, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I told him I was going to propose to Lydia. Then we were talking about my New Years Eve party, and some stuff he said to me against marriage that night. I told him I didn't think he cared about my relationship with Lydia because we never talk about it. He told me he had been jealous, and then started having a panic attack."

  "I'm s...sorry, Andy," I stammered out as I started to sob uncontrollably. "I care...I swear I do." I felt him rest his hand tentatively on my shoulder, and I just wanted to curl into a ball of nothing.

  "I know you do," Andy told me, his voice filled with concern. "I'm sorry I thought you didn't."

  I couldn't respond as I rocked back and forth in Sydney's arms, my body trembling as I clutched at her shirt. Sydney and Andy kept talking to me, urging me to slow my breathing and relax. After a while, I calmed down enough for the pain in my chest to stop, and I felt like I could breathe again. I sat up and looked at Sydney. Seeing the concern in her eyes nearly had me sobbing again.

  "Please take me home," I whispered to her, suddenly desperate to get out of here, to go somewhere I felt safe.

  "Okay, but I can't drive your car, baby," Sydney said as she caressed my cheek. "I don't know how to drive a stick."

  "I can drive it home," Andy suggested. "Lydia can follow us in her car."

  "Okay," I agreed immediately. Andy looked shocked by my answer. I had never let him drive the Camaro before, but at this moment, I didn't give a fuck who drove my car. I just wanted to go home. Andy helped me stand, even though I didn't really need it. I let him do it anyway, my guilt about how I treated him tearing me up inside.

  The four of us left Andy's place shortly after that. Sydney and I rode silently in the Camaro with Andy driving, while Lydia following in her little gray Nissan Altima. I sat in the passenger seat staring out the window sullenly, wishing I had never suggested going anywhere tonight. At one point, Sydney put a gentle hand on my shoulder from the back seat. I put my hand on top of hers, but I just couldn't bring myself to respond in any other way.

  When we finally got to the condo, Andy parked in the garage. I got out of the car and walked into the house without bothering to say anything. My shame burned inside me now that I had managed to calm down, and I just couldn't look at any of them, not even Sydney. I didn't stop until I was in my room. I pulled off my clothes, leaving them wherever they fell, and crawled into my bed. I curled up on my side and tried to will myself to go to sleep.

  I was still awake when Sydney came in. I could hear her getting ready for bed in the bathroom, but I didn't move or react in any way. She got into bed next to me, pressing her naked body against my back. When she caressed my hip and said my name, I feigned sleep and didn't respond even though my body wanted to. I knew sex would probably make me feel better, but I didn't think I deserved any comfort right now.

  "I know you're not asleep, Jensen," Sydney whispered angrily. "I know you're trying to punish yourself by denying what you need from me. You hate it when I do that, so I'm not going to let you do it." She reached forward and gripped my already erect cock in her hand. My body betrayed me as a low moan escaped my lips, and my hips shifted unconsciously.

  "You know you want me, so take what you need from me. I want you to and I...I need it too." Her voice broke into a sob, and I couldn't stop myself as I rolled over and pinned her to the bed under my body. I shoved her legs apart roughly with my knee and rubbed the head of my dick through her already slick folds, then slammed myself into her. She gasped, and I wasn't sure if it was from pain or pleasure, but she wrapped her legs around me, and I started thrusting into her hard and deep. I picked up speed, chasing my release and needing it desperately. Faster and faster I went, her harsh cries egging me on until wild pleasure fired through my body, and I exploded inside her, grunting and growling as I pounded out my orgasm into her.

  When I finally came down and rolled over, pulling her into my arms, I realized I didn't even know if she had climaxed or not. I didn't even paid any attention. My stomach twisted into a hard knot inside me, and I had this overwhelming guilty thought. I used her, just like all those other women. It was all I could do not to run into the bathroom and throw up. Sydney drifted off to sleep in my arms, and I silently cried myself to sleep a long while after that.

  **********

  I dreamed I was driving my Camaro fast along a dark winding road. Sydney sat next to me in the passenger seat with fear in her eyes, asking me to slow down, but I only laughed as I ignored her request. The car started squealing its tires through the curves, the back wheels threatening to lose traction on the pavement, but I kept driving faster and faster. Sydney started screaming something I couldn't understand, because the sound of a baby crying started drowning her out. I was confused, couldn't figure out where this baby was and why it was crying. The Camaro finally careened out of control around a sharp curve in the road. I fought for control of the wheel as I suddenly realized what Sydney was screaming.

  "Our baby, our baby!"

  Our baby? I was shocked as I realized the crying was coming from the back seat of the Camaro. The wheels hit the edge of the pavement, and the car flew off the road. It slammed into some trees, the sudden deceleration jolting through the vehicle as tree limbs crashed through the windows all around me, and glass flew everywhere. I closed my eyes until everything stopped moving and there was nothing but silence.

  When I opened my eyes again, I immediately looked to my right. Sydney was there, her body limp and lifeless with multiple tree branches impaling her. Her dead eyes stared at me with accusation and there was blood everywhere, so much fucking blood.

  "Our baby, our baby!" Her words echoed inside my head with a surge of terror.

  I turned to look in the back of the car and saw a car seat sitting there, but there was no baby in it now. It was filling up with blood and pouring out of the sides. I stared at it in horror as I realized that I had killed Sydney, and I had killed our baby. I wished I had died with them as I started screaming and screaming.

  I abruptly jolted awake in my bed, woken by my own screaming. Sydney was hovering over me, her eyes filled with concern and fear for me. I jerked up off the mattress and pulled her into my arms, feeling her breathing and alive against me. The sudden relief overwhelmed me, and I began to sob.

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I started chanting, picturing that empty fucking car seat in my head and Sydney's lifeless eyes staring at me. How the fuck did I think I was good enough to be a father? Who the hell would want a fucked-up mess like me for a dad?

  "It's okay, baby," Sydney reassured me, her head tucked under my chin. "It was just another nightmare." It wasn't okay. It was the most fucked-up nightmare I had ever had, and I couldn't even bring myself to tell her that. She had to know that I wasn't good enough to have a baby with her. How could she not know that? She was probably humoring me out of pity. Why the fuck did I ever think I could have a family with anyone?

  A sudden sick feeling came over me. I kicked the blankets off my legs and leapt up out of Sydney's arms. I rushed to the bathroom in the dim early-morning light, knelt on the floor in front of the toilet as I flipped up the seat, and threw up into the bowl repeatedly until I thought I might actually pass out. I was left hovering over the bowl, panting and dizzy, as I gripped the sides of the toilet in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

  "Jensen?" Sydney asked from the doorway. "Baby? Are you alright?"

  "No," I croaked out between breaths. She grabbed a washcloth out of the cupboard, and I watched her wet it under the faucet. She wrung it out, then came over and laid it across the back of my neck. The cool wet cloth felt good on my clammy skin, and I sighed with relief as I rested my forehead on my upper arm, not caring at all that my arm was draped across the edge of the toilet bowl.

  I sighed as Sydney started rubbing gentle circles on my back. Her touch calmed me down, help
ed me relax, until my stomach settled. I raised my head up from my arm and looked over at where she knelt on the floor next to me. Her eyes were filled with empathy and worry.

  "What did you dream that was so bad?" she finally asked as she took the washcloth off my neck and started wiping the cool cloth across my forehead. I sighed deeply, I couldn't tell her the truth. It was too horrifying even to talk about, so I settled for a partial truth instead of a lie; like that made what I was doing any better.

  "I was driving and we wrecked," I whispered wretchedly as I looked away from her eyes and stared at the floor. "You...you died."

  "Baby," she said softly as she finished wiping my face clean. "It's over now and I'm okay. It was just a dream, and it can't hurt you."

  Can't hurt me? What a fucking joke. I felt like my heart was hemorrhaging inside me. There was a deep dark hole gaping inside me right now, the edges raw and painful. I felt her fingers gently touch my cheek, and I looked back up at her.

  "Do you need to call David?" she asked. "He's probably awake right now."

  "No," I answered harshly. There was no way in fuck I was telling him about this or about my freak out at Andy's last night. What if he told me that I couldn't handle the hearing on Friday? She needed me there, and I couldn't let her down. She looked suspicious of my vehement reaction.

  "I'm...I'm going to see him later today anyway," I told her in a reasonable tone. "I...I just want to go back to sleep right now."

  "Alright." She seemed convinced and let it go. "Do you want some water? I can get you some."

  "Please?" I asked. "Can you get me a cold one from the fridge?"

  "Sure, baby." She gave me small smile. "Anything you want, but let's get you back in bed first." I nodded and let her help me up off the floor. I followed her back to our bed, and I climbed onto it. She tucked me in and smiled down at me. After she left the room to get my water, I stared up at the ceiling, feeling guilt ridden and still a little nauseous. I started thinking about the sex we had last night, and how I had used her with no thought to her pleasure or to take care of her like I always had before. I was so distraught about it that I was in tears, by the time she returned to our room with a bottle of water.