Page 24 of Somewhere Without You
“Don’t you dare,”Katherine cut me off, her brown eyes blazing.“Don’t you dare fucking say you’re sorry.”Her fingersgentlycupped my face, and I flinched, the reflex uncontrollable. The fierceness in her eyes softened.“You have nothing to be sorry for. Do youhearme? You did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. Iknewshewasright, but the years of conditioned self-blamewerehard to shake.I’dgrownused to Jackson’s rage, accepting it as a punishment I deserved.
I sat up, trying to focus on Katherine’s face—raw grief clashing with a protective anger.Evennow, a small weight of guilt pressedheavilyagainst my chest. By tolerating Jackson’s violence, Ihaddraggedher into its suffocating grip. Seeing her like this twisted something deep inside me. I might have been the victim, but shewasthe collateral damage.
“How did youknowIwashere?”I asked, still trying to piece together whathadhappened.“Did Rita call you?”
Katherine shook her head, hernormallyvibrant bleached hair looking dull and lifeless against her sun-kissed skin.
“Iwasangry,”she confessed.“Angry with how we left things. Angry at you for walking out on me at lunch.Butmostly, Iwasangry at myself.”Her chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh, broken and defeated.“I tried calling you to apologize. I wanted to fix things, to try again, but you didn’t answer. Iwasn’tsurprised. I figured you wouldn’t want to speak to me,evenif youcould.Butsomething told me to try again, and it went straight to voicemail.”Shelookedaway, the shame and guilt evident on her face.“I’ve spent my whole life trying to protect you, and when you needed me most, Iwasn’tthere.”
“Kat—” I started, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away.
“No,”she insisted, her voice firm but shaking,“let me finish. Iknewwhat kind of man Jacksonwas, and I introduced him to you anyway.IfI’dnever sent him to the airportthatday, you wouldn’t be here.”
“You don’tknowthat,”I countered.
“I do,”she shot back.“ItwasGrant’s idea to send him, but I didn’t argue. I should have argued. I should’ve picked you up myself.Instead, I rationalized it, told myself Iwasbeing overprotective.Butwhen Isawthe way helookedat youthatday, IknewI fucked up.”
Above, a woman’s voice crackled over the speakers.“Paging Dr. Daniels. Dr. Daniels, please report to the third floor nurses’ station.”
Katherine’s voice softened again, the heartache bleeding through.“I couldn’t sleep. Ijusthadthis awful, gnawingfeelingthatsomethingwaswrong. So I drove over to your house. The gatewasopen, and that’s when Iknewsomethingwasn’tright. I found you. . . lying on the floor, and I. . .”She trailed off, her voice breaking. A raw, anguished cry escaped her lips.“The housewasempty, Emily. Hejustleft youthere, like youweretrash. What kind of person doesthatto someone theysupposedlylove?”
A bitter irony twisted in my chest. The man whohadclaimedto love mehadleftme to die.
“What about the staff?”I asked, my mind racing. Rita would be there first. Would she recognize something was wrong—or just sweep up the glass, ignore the blood, and carry on?
“I dismissed them this morning with a month’s pay, until we figure things out,”Katherine replied flatly.
I arched a brow. “We?”
“Yes,we,” she saidfirmly. “Ifyou think for one second I’m going to let you go back tothathouse alone, you’re out of your mind.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”I asked, desperation creeping in.
“Isthataseriousquestion?”Katherine leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.“You’ll stay with me.”
I shook my head.“What about Grant?” I asked. “He’s Jackson’s best friend, don’t you think. . .”I trailed off, watching as my sister’s face drained of color.“Wait, does heknow?”
Katherine bit her lower lip. “No,”she replied, her gaze falling to the floor. Shelookedlike shehadn’tsleptin days.
“Are you sure?”I pressed, noticing the flicker of regret passing over her face. Shewascaughtbetween her loyalty to me and her marriage to Grant.“This is my mess to clean up,”I insisted.“I won’t bring my trash to your doorstep.”
Her jaw clenched. “You’re not going back tothathouse, Emily. I won’t let you.”
“Jackson isn’teventhere,”I argued.
“Exactly,”she countered.“Whoknowswhere he is and when he’ll be back.Andyouknowhewillbe back.”
Shewasright. God, I hatedwhenshewasright.
“I have a little bit of cash saved up for emergencies,”I said, thinking of the small, rose-painted tea tin stashed in the back of my closet.“I’ll stay at a hotel until I figure things out.”
“Andwhat if you don’t?”Katherine sat up straighter, eyes hardening.“What if you run out of money beforethen? What if Jackson finds you?”
“What do you want from me, Kat?”Anger bubbled up in my chest as the weight of everything came crashing down.“Jackson isn’t stupid. Your house will be the first place he’lllook.AndI’ll be honest with you, I don’tknowif I’m strong enough to leave him. You don’t understand how charming he is, how convincing he can be.”My voice cracked, and hot tears spilled down my cheeks. “Mom’s gone, Gran’s dead, and—”
“Gran!”Katherine shouted, her voice frantic.“Oh my God, Emily. . . that’s it.”
