Page 98 of Hiding from Hope

She doesn’t listen, instead she heads for the door. I shut the phone off and head toward her. Fuck the shop. I need to fix this first.

“Case—”

The phone rings again. “Goddammit!” I hiss in frustration under my breath again and feel the rage boil up. Casey flinches and I scold myself.

“Just wait here, baby, please, okay? We’re not finished,” I urge before quickly turning and heading for my room, answering the phone with a bark at whoever was choosing today to piss me the fuck off. “What!?”

“Oh, sorry, boss. Umm, there is a guy here who said he needs to talk to you?”

I swear to all that is holy, if it’s not the fire department because the shop is burning down, Eugene was going to be fired so fucking fast. “Who?” I growl.

“Uhh, I don’t know someone from a development pla—”

“Tell him to fuck off. I’ll be at the shop later, but unless the place is on fire, don’t fucking call.” I hang up without waiting for an answer, making a mental note to apologize for that later as I turn around and head back into the living room. Completely unable to control my shit right now because my woman wasn’t making any sense, and I needed to fix—

The room is empty. “Casey?” I call out, which is fucking stupid because I can see her purse is gone from the counter and in its place is the key I had cut for her. My apartment is small enough to know she isn’t here at all. I practically run to the door and rip it open. “Casey!” I shout, and when there is no response, I slam the door again, pacing the apartment and almost ripping the hair from my head.

“Fuck!” I scream at no one but myself. This is my fucking fault. She is gone because I couldn’t handle my shit quickly enough to clear up any of her concerns. I couldn’t tell her all the shit I am feeling and bury all the stupid emotions.

For the second time in my life, the future I had mapped out feels like it is slipping through my fingers. The difference is, this time, I know exactly what the fuck to do about it.

I’m going to go get her the fuck back.

Casey

“Are you sure, sweetie?” Mom’s gentle voice floats through the phone where I have it propped on my side table. I sniffle–because apparently all I do now is cry–but I push through the tears and respond to Mom.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling like dinner. Just super hungover from last night.” And also currently suffering from having open heart surgery, where it was removed from my chest and replaced with a deep black hole of nothingness.

Why am I such a stupid idiot? Why do I have to butt my nose in everyone’s business? God knows it’s why Grace hates me. And now I’ve lost Jessie because of it, too. It is any wonder Rosie and Addison have stuck around.

“Okay, honey, well, we’re going to go see Evan and Grace. We’ll catch you on Christmas day, then?” Because I told them I was spending Christmas Eve–my birthday–with my boyfriend. I hadn’t been able to tell them that was no longer happening. I was instead making a mental plan to cry until there was no moisture left in my body.

“Sure. See you then. Love you,” I say and quickly end the call, not able to hold the sobs in any longer. I roll onto my side, ready to just fall into the abyss, let it swallow me whole. I had collapsed on my bed, not able to spare Addison or Rosie a single look or word when I had run back to our apartment after my breakup with Jessie this morning.

It hurt like hell to wake up hungover and surrounded by his scent. It made it so much worse that while he was mad at me, he was still the gentleman he always was. Making sure I was home safe, looked after and cherished. Even in the end, he loved me better than anyone ever had.

Noise from deeper in the apartment has my ears perking up, and my heart skips in my chest when I hear his deep voice.

“Where is she?”

“In her room, but this isn’t a good time, JJ.” Addison’s commanding voice hits my ears next, and it sounds like they are right outside my door.

Shit. He probably wants his manuscript back. Rosie had given it back to me under the premise that I would return it to her with a deal ready to be made when Jessie agrees to sign with her publisher, but I know that is never going to happen. I just want to fix this. I want to give it back and pretend it never happened. That we never happened, because it hurt too damn much to think we had just made it, only for it to end.

“Move, Addison.” Jessie’s growl is unmistakable, and despite everything that happened, the deep timbre of it still sends shivers down my spine.

“Easy, JJ.” Noah’s usually charmed voice has a menacing air to it.

“Ease off, Karvelas. She’s my sister. What the fuck do you think I’m going to do?” Jessie bites back.

“You can watch your mouth when you speak to her.” Noah’s retort deepens to an octave rare for him, and it’s when Addison tries to calm them both down that I realize I need to intervene before the two alpha-males make fools of themselves.

I scramble from the bed, pull the book from my bag, and swing open my bedroom door, interrupting the siblings from their bickering.

I’m stunned for a moment looking up at Jessie’s incredibly handsome face, slightly blushed from his anger, which has guilt forming again because I know this is all my fault. The moment I’m in the doorway, it’s like the air is sucked from my lungs with his dominating presence. His eyes find mine and lock, never blinking or wavering. He just holds my gaze hostage.

I clear my throat and try to wipe the sticky tears from my face. Bolstering my confidence and trying my best to be unaffected by any of this. From behind Jessie’s frame, I can see Noah and Rosie standing by, looks of concern and pity marking their faces, but it’s Addison’s momma-bear rage I feel vibrating next to me. I rest a hand on her shoulder to let her know I’m okay. I’m incredibly appreciative that she is protecting me right now, when really, I’m the one that ruined her brother. If she should be mad at anyone, it’s me.

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