If I Fall (New Castle Book 2)

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If I Fall (New Castle Book 2) Page 9

by Lydia Michaels

She hobbled to the window. Her gaze landed on the Jeep parked at the curb. Shit.

  Taking the steps at a zombie’s pace, she unlocked the front door. Jeremy’s hand stopped mid-knock and he scowled, looking furious and disheveled.

  “Tell me you’re okay before I freak the fuck out,” he growled.

  With zero emotion left, she quietly said, “I’m okay.”

  “Why didn’t you answer the fucking phone? I was worried sick!”

  He barged into the house and she shut the door behind him.

  “What the fuck, Jade? You don’t tell someone you’ll be at their house around midnight and never show up and then not even have the courtesy to call or answer the fucking phone! I called the hospital and they said you left hours ago! Hours, Jade! Where the hell have you been all night?”

  “Here,” she answered in a small voice.

  Feeling exhausted, selfish, and small, she lacked the energy to face his rage. He obviously hadn’t slept. He had every right to be furious.

  It shouldn’t be possible to feel more horrid than she already felt, but seeing how livid he was dropped her several layers beneath rock bottom. If only his concern could save her from the hell she was living.

  He angrily forked his fingers through his hair as he paced the hall. “If you didn’t want to see me, you could have said so. I called the cops.”

  “You called the cops?”

  “Yes! For all I knew you were kidnapped or in a ditch. It never occurred to me you would be hiding out here all by yourself. What the fuck, Jade?”

  “Kat needed someone to watch Trixie. Gloria’s husband’s allergic,” she explained lamely.

  “You could’ve brought the dog to my house!”

  “Please stop yelling,” she said in a small voice, staring at the ground.

  The empty house echoed with the sound of his breathing. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

  Still angry, but no longer yelling, he snapped, “Why the hell not?”

  “I had a really, really bad day.”

  The tension syphoned out of the house and he seemed to look at her—really look at her—for the first time since barreling inside and demanding explanations. His hand reached for her brow and she pulled back before he could make contact. He scowled. “I was just checking to see if you have a fever. You look…”

  She didn’t want to hear how she looked. “I’m not sick.”

  He took another step closer and she retreated, maintaining the same distance. His jaw ticked. “What’s going on, Jade? You’re not acting like yourself.”

  “I can’t do this right now, Jeremy. I’m sorry.” He had no idea how sorry.

  “Is this about your apartment? Your wallet being stolen?”

  “No, not really.”

  “But it’s somehow connected? Jade, you have to tell me what’s going on with you.”

  Knowing her opportunity for diversion had passed, she shut her eyes and accepted what she had to do. So overwhelmed with sadness, she was physically ill. “Jeremy, I want you to leave.”

  His head snapped up as his gaze hardened. “What? Why?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Because I can’t do this. Us.” Her chest tightened as her vision blurred, but she kept her voice stern. “It’s not going to work.”

  “What are you talking about? Jade, we just need to set some ground rules—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “There’ll be no ground rules. There’ll be no working this out. You don’t have to worry about where I go because there will be no us.”

  His shoulders bunched and released with each labored breath. “Why are you doing this?”

  “My reasons are my own business. I’m sorry, but I just…”

  She’d wanted him for so long and in the short time she had him, she realized he was more amazing than she’d ever imagined. A sob lodged in her throat and she swallowed it back.

  “I just can’t be with you.”

  “Jade—”

  “You have to leave.” He took another step toward her but paused when she, again, took a step back. If he touched her, she’d shatter. “Please go, Jeremy.”

  He shook his head. “Why won’t you talk to me? Jade, don’t—”

  She turned away and opened the door with an unsteady hand. “It’s over, Jeremy.”

  His brow creased as his lips thinned. His voice was reed thin as he stared at her, confusion filling his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

  Lowering her face to hide her tears, she waited for him to accept that this was the way it had to be.

  Leaning close to her ear, he voice hardened into a cruel hiss. “You’re a coward, Jade Schultz. You don’t deserve my time if you can’t even find the courage to be honest with yourself, let alone me. You want to keep secrets, play games, and alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you for anything more than a quick fuck? Fine.”

  Her eyes closed as she refused to argue with him. If only he knew how deeply his words stabbed her already punctured heart. Any more holes and it might stop beating once and for all.

  “Have a nice life.” He slammed the door and she flinched.

  Tires screeched in the quiet night and she numbly slid her back down the wall, crumbling to the floor in a heap.

  She held her belly, surrendering to the agony ripping at her perforating heart. She gasped and sobbed until her sides ached.

  Her arms wrapped around her torso as if to cover the undeveloped ears of the baby in her womb as she howled every hateful word she knew toward the bastard who, in one depraved moment, derailed her entire life.

  “I fucking hate you…” Tears and snot formed rivers down her face into the collar of her shirt. “What did you do to me?” She moaned, the weight of her condition sitting on her chest like a grand piano. “You ruined my life.” Her hand swiped at her eyes and nose, but there was no stopping her tears. “I … hate … you,” she sobbed. “I hate you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  By noon the following day, the only productive thing Jade managed to do was call out of work. Around one, she made some soup only to let it grow cold. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She stared at nothing in particular for hours on end. She was utterly numb.

  When Trixie occasionally scratched at the door she roused from her comatose state with barely the strength to hold up her head. There was nothing to do. She was pregnant.

  Around six o’clock she managed to climb up the steps and crawl into bed. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She didn’t remember dreaming. She awoke around eight the next morning and ran to the bathroom, where she immediately vomited.

  The painful, unending bout of heaving turned her hollow stomach inside out. She cried as she hugged the cool porcelain to her clammy cheek. How had this become her life?

  Forcing herself to drink some water and eat a few saltines she fumbled from one room to the other, often finding herself somewhere she didn’t recall walking to. The pattern continued, much the same, until Sunday.

  It was all a blur, minutes feeling like days, hours fleeing by but leaving no memories in their wake. Eventually, she had to return to work, but at the moment she could barely function on a personal level. How could she possibly take care of others?

  All she could do was sleep, the numbing pull of unconsciousness an anesthetic to her soul. And no matter how long she slept during the day, by nightfall she was still exhausted. She gave up. She didn’t want to cry and she didn’t want to try to make sense of an ugly fucked up situation that couldn’t be justified. She just wanted to pain to stop and she wanted to be left the fuck alone.

  A soft whimper escaped in her sleep. It had taken him two days, but he finally found her. She hadn’t been going to work. Why? Was she ill? Keeping to the shadows, he studied her face in the pooling moonlight as she slept, curled on her side in yet another bed. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks bore the dry tracks of tears.

  His head tilted as a peculiar emotion twisted in his
stomach. It bothered him that she was sad. His fingers itched under his leather gloves to touch her, but not with barriers between them.

  What if he ran a hand over her hair? Comforted her? Would she be terrified to see him there in her friend’s house? Better to stay back.

  The other man wasn’t here with her, which was a relief. She shifted and he stilled, holding his breath as she rolled to her back. Her flaxen hair tangled across the pillow and, again, he was tempted to move closer, touch her.

  His mind replayed their night together. It had been so easy.

  After endlessly observing her, she’d become a bad habit he couldn’t quit. Walking her out of the bar that night was a breeze. She was out cold by the time he put her in the car.

  He had to touch himself on the drive to her place because the simple task of tightening the seatbelt over her body and feeling around for her keys had left him rock hard. Those full tits and curvaceous thighs. Her pussy tasted like the sweetest nectar. Her skin rivaled the softest silk. And when he shoved his cock deep in her cunt… His eyes rolled back on a silent sigh, his dick twitching hard against his zipper.

  He needed to have her again. He wanted to hold her to him as he forced his cock down her throat. Watch her eyes tear as she struggled to take all of him. Maybe she’d beg—for him to stop, for more, it didn’t matter. The word please on her full lips would be enough for him to shoot his load. God, he wanted to cover her in his come.

  He peeked into the hall. The beagle was still busy devouring the steak he’d brought as a distraction.

  Biting off one glove, he slowly lowered the zipper of his pants, each little tooth coming undone letting a risky moan into the silence. His cock pulsed in his grip as his eyes devoured her. He’d give anything to trace his dick across those lips again. Maybe see her tongue skate out and sample his flavor.

  The other night had been beautiful. His hands molded her body as his cock filled her, pumping hard and harder still with not even a peep of objection from her pretty mouth. He’d held her soft hair in his fist, yanking her head back so he could see her. Like a glutton, once inside of her, he couldn’t stop. He’d filled her with come, painted her skin with what seeped out of her cunt, rubbing it into her tits and over her tongue.

  He grunted, his hand jerking faster as he stood in the shadows. Almost there.

  He locked his jaw, silenced his breathing as he leaned into the wall. His gaze zeroed in on the curve of her breast, as he longed to pinch it hard. It was amazing how an unconscious body could still respond.

  His spine twitched and his balls lifted. He reached to the dresser and quietly swiped a tissue. Yes… He swallowed a grunt as he emptied his load into the tissue and quickly shoved the evidence into his pocket.

  Letting out a jagged breath, he ran his thumb over the crown of his dick, catching one last drop seeping from the tip. He was a fool, but he couldn’t resist. Hiking up his zipper, he moved closer to the bed. God, she was stunning.

  His thumb slowly reached out. “You’re mine,” he whispered, pressing the tip of the digit past her full lips onto the hot tip of her tongue.

  Her face turned away and she rolled on her side. Time to go.

  He paused as her shoulder caught his eye, the nightshirt slipping down her arm. The branding had been the difficult part. He’d planned to leave the mark on her thigh but decided against that placement just before he stamped the hot metal into her lily-white flesh. He wanted other men to see it, to know he’d been there before them—wanted her to think of him every day she saw it.

  As a successful man with multiple degrees, a beautiful home, and plenty of money, all he was missing was a good woman—her. One day she’d be his. He’d make sure of it.

  As she evenly breathed, he lingered another minute. Keeping his motions steady and his touch feather light, his fingertip traced her eyebrow, followed the curve of her cheek, and coasted over her lips.

  He would have her again. But this time he’d be smart. This time she’d be the one to come to him. It would only take a matter of time before he got everything he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

  Shutting his eyes he breathed in her scent one last time, reaffirming the memory. Walking quietly down the steps, he passed the dog. It should be waking within the hour from his special treat. He pulled the door closed behind him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trixie barked, springing off the bed. Jade was so weak the jostling sent fissures of pain shooting through her body. The dog bolted out of the room.

  “Jade?”

  She opened her eyes but made no move to uncover her face from the blankets and pillows. The mattress dipped. Turning stiffly, she found Kat looking at her with concern and Tyson standing tall behind her, appearing worried as well. The dog raced around the room, howling with excitement to have her people back.

  “Are you sick?” Kat asked.

  No matter how much she wanted to put her troubles aside and lose herself in her friends’ romantic adventures, there was no hiding the pain welling up inside of her. A tear escaped and rolled into her matted hair.

  “Jade, honey, what’s wrong?”

  When she tried to talk all that came out was a raw sob. Kat pulled her into a hug, rocking and soothing much like a mother does with for her child, and Jade cried in earnest.

  “Jade, what’s happened? Do you need a doctor?” Easing her back, Kat looked into her eyes. “You’re pale and your eyes are puffy. You’re a wreck.”

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” she bawled and Kat continued to hold her.

  The thought of having so much to explain exhausted her before she spoke a single word. There was nothing Kat could do to change her circumstances, but having her near was the most comfort she’d felt in days.

  As her cries dwindled to shivers and shuddered breaths, she shut her eyes and rested against her friend’s lap. It was a closeness she needed, one she couldn’t get from anyone else.

  When she awoke again, it must’ve been in the middle of the night. Kat was sleeping in a chair next to the bed and Tyson was gone. Numbness set into her hip and she forced herself to sit up.

  “You’re awake,” Kat whispered. Her grim expression showed in the shadows. Jade’s outburst had obviously scared her. “Do you want some water?”

  She took the glass from Kat’s hand and greedily swallowed its contents. When she finished, it was too late. “Oh, God—”

  Stumbling from the bed, she bolted for the bathroom. Her knees crashed down on the tile floor as she clung to the cool ceramic bowl and puked.

  Minutes later, water was running and a cool damp cloth pressed to her brow as she rested her clammy face against the now warming seat of the toilet. She opened her eyes and found Kat kneeling beside her and Tyson standing at the door.

  “Jade, I think you need to go to the hospital,” Kat whispered.

  “No,” she rasped.

  Kat looked at Tyson then back to her. “Ty, see if you can find some crackers and Ginger ale. See if we have tea, too. If we do, make a cup and add some of the soda to it.”

  Once Tyson left, Kat helped her stand. Jade braced her palms on the vanity of the sink and winced at her reflection.

  Her hair was a rat’s nest and her skin was paper white. Crescent shaped bruises hung like hammocks under her eyes and her cheeks were sunken in. No wonder Kat was so concerned. She looked half-dead and she smelled fully there.

  “I need a shower,” she croaked, her throat raw. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words in days and her esophagus burned from bile.

  Kat turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. As the room filled with swirls of steam, Jade pulled off her pants. As she twisted her arm through the strap of her tank top she froze.

  There, in the reflection on the mirror, was the stain of her predicament. The small, angry pucker was beginning to heal and she would be forever branded a victim.

  She wanted to claw the mark from her flesh. Fucking motherless whore—cock sucking, scum bag… Her vocabulary
failed her. There was no word vile enough to describe the monster that had done this to her.

  The ever-present dip and swell that came with thinking of him turned her stomach. Like attempting to thread a needle when too blind to see the hole, she would never have the satisfaction of rightness again. There would be no closure, no justice.

  She breathed through her teeth. No one could fix this. No one.

  Kat held her arm as she stepped under the spray. Too exhausted to stand, she lowered herself to the floor. Kat adjusted the plug and switched the water flow to the bath faucet.

  As the warm water filled the tub, Kat gently washed her hair, pouring a Cookie Monster cup over her shoulders and chest. When she rinsed the remainder of shampoo away she pulled Jade’s hair behind her shoulders and stilled.

  Her fingers tentatively touched Jade’s shoulder and Jade flinched, her shoulders curling inward. A myriad of emotions played across Kat’s face as she ran her fingers gingerly over the abused tissue.

  Shaking, Jade whispered, “Do you know what it means?”

  As her best friend shook her head a crushing disappointment broke another part of her meager reserves. They finished her bath in utter silence.

  A little while later, she sat at the kitchen table across from Kat while Tyson made coffee. It was time.

  Jade took a deep breath and finally spoke the truth she’d been hiding from. “I don’t want you to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. If you can’t give me your word, then I can’t confide in you.”

  Kat nodded and looked at Tyson, who hesitated but also nodded.

  “The night of your rehearsal dinner, Jeremy and I went to the Pink Lounge afterwards for a drink. I only had a few drinks that entire night and was by no means drunk. Jeremy left around nine o’clock, just after I got your text about picking up your ring. I was supposed to leave shortly after him, but I don’t remember getting home. I can’t remember anything after getting your text.”

  Kat frowned. “How did you drive if you can’t remember getting to your car?”

 

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