Page 63 of Fighting Jacob

After digging my phone out of my pocket, I raise my index finger, requesting a minute so I can call my mom. She’s panicked when I tell her Emily was roofied, but my assurance that she's safe puts her mind at ease. After advising me she's minutes away, I disconnect our call, then pivot around to face Jacob. I've just dodged one wreck relatively unscathed, so I may as well dive headfirst into another to test my luck.

“Do you want to deal with this now or later?”

After a beat, Jacob says, “Now.”

“Alright, then let’s do this.” Air snags in my throat when my eyes stray to the hard chairs lining the corridor. Noah’s bandmates are heading our way, closely followed by Ryan, the detective who took my statement after Jacob was arrested. “Somewhere private.”

After gathering Jacob’s hand in mine, I guide him away from Emily’s room. He doesn’t utter a syllable as we stride down numerous hallways, through the hospital grounds, and into the parking garage, but his silence breaks the instant we enter my car.

“After what he did to you, how can you trust him?”

“I don’t.”

His ragged breath says more than his words ever will. He's disappointed in me. He's not the only one frustrated. I thought he knew better than to believe the rumors the old biddies in our hometowns bicker about every day.

“Don’t believe every rumor you hear, Jacob. Sometimes they're nothing but made up stories.”

“So you weren’t at Mavericks with Callum Sunday afternoon?”

It’s the fight of my life not to smack his snippy tone into next week, but I manage to hold back—barely. “You already know I was, but instead of asking me why, you’ve reached your own conclusion without any facts to back up your assumption.”

I hate when my voice quivers at the end. Vicious rumors are nothing new to me. Usually, they roll straight off my back, but defending myself to Jacob isn’t something I thought I’d ever have to do. It hurts more than I care to admit.

“It’s a bit hard to ask you what’s going on when you have my number blocked.”

“Did you try to call me?” I bite back with just as much attitude. “Or did you just go out with... What was her name this week?” I tap my finger, pretending I don’t remember the name that stabbed my heart a trillion times earlier this week. “Oh, that’s right—Casey—just to get back at me?”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jacob

My heart drops to my stomach when Lola spits out Casey's name, but it does little to leash my anger. Seeing Noah's reaction to Emily being roofied is already wreaking havoc with my emotions, so you can imagine how fucking close to the edge I got when every attempt I made to reach out to Lola was hindered by a blocked number. It's not the first time she's cut me out of her life, but blocking someone's number is the equivalent of unfriending them on Facebook. It's a clear sign you want nothing to do with them. It fucking gutted me knowing she could cut me out so quickly but keep Callum around.

“We’re not here to talk about who I have or have not... dated—”

“Dated? Are we still calling it that?” Although Lola is asking a question, she doesn’t wait for me to reply. “It’s funny that we can’t discuss your dates, but you’re more than happy to throw out accusations as to whom I’m supposedly fucking.”

Anger works up from my gut to my throat. “I don’t give a fuck who you're sleeping with as long as it isn’t Callum!”

Lola’s glare warns me I’m seconds from being castrated, but it doesn’t weaken my campaign in the slightest. Everything I’m saying should have been said months ago, so now that it’s coming out, nothing will stop it from being articulated.

“My ass was hauled to jail where I was treated like scum for teaching a low-life piece of shit a lesson about what happens when you put your hands on a lady, and for what, Lola? For you to run back into his arms! He put his fucking hands around your throat. How can you forget that?! I thought you were smart, strong, and brave! Clearly, I’m not the only fucking idiot sitting in this car.”

Regret hits me like a ton of bricks when tears drop down Lola’s face. She’s quick to wipe them away, but they’re replaced with more before her hands are even halfway across her cheeks.

“Please don’t cry—”

“I never asked you to defend me, Jacob! Not once. What you just said is the exact reason I tried to stay away. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know that.” I drag a shaky hand over my head, finally understanding why Noah caves every time Emily cries. This hurts more than I can explain. I broke an unbreakable woman, and it’s more painful than anything I've experienced. "What if it were Emily?"

Lola fights with all her might to settle her tears before peering up at me with big, watering eyes. She’s confused, so I try and settle it. “What if it were Emily who was attacked by Callum instead of you? Would you want Noah to stand up for her?”

She contemplates my question for several heart-thrashing seconds before nodding.

“Exactly. That’s my point. The way Noah defended Emily tonight was no different than the way I defended you when you were attacked. It’s a natural instinct to protect the people you care about. I’ll never regret standing up for you, Lola. I'm just disappointed I hurt you so much you won't even take my calls anymore."

“I did that for you.” When her big, salty blobs come close to falling again, her eyes dart to the black sky. “The night I went to the police station to give my statement, I saw you. You were cuffed to the table, and your face was full of torment. All I could think of was that you would have never been in that situation if you hadn’t met me.”

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