Page 124 of Tripped By Love
Someone always ended up wanting more than the other person could give.
Chapter Six - Dawson
WASTED ON YOU
“Just pass me the bitter truth.
Will I ever be the same?
Am I strong enough to change?
Is it in my blood?”
Performed by Evanescence
Written by Lee / Majura / McCord / McLawhorn / Hunt
It was still dark when wegot off the plane outside Hartford. Jada wobbled. She’d drunk herself into a stupor on the jet, hiding in the bedroom because she knew I would have said something and stopped her at some point well before she’d reached this level of inebriation.
At least there was no media here. It was a good thing because she could barely stand, and the paparazzi would have had a field day. It would definitely have gotten back to her father. Hell, it probably still would. After all, that was why Ken’Ichi had sent not onlyIto-sanbut alsoSaito-sanwith us.
To report. To keep us in check. To figure out if I’d planted the bug.
My stomach turned.
Jada’s makeup, which had been perfect when we’d left, was a blur, as if she were a smudged photograph. She might even have been crying, and it made me feel like shit. The same feeling I’d had for years now. I was a crappy human being, trying to do the right thing in a shitty way.
Instead of getting into the SUV withIto-sanandSaito-san, I led the way to the private parking lot where I’d left the Aston Martin DB11 Coupe that Dax had all but forced me to buy after our big win in Greece. The twisted humor I’d found in buying a car James Bond would have driven had been lost on him even if it wasn’t lost on me.
As we walked to the car, with me practically carrying her, Jada breathed out, “You’re right. They know.”
I glanced around warily, even though there was no one near us.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
She laughed sarcastically.
“We’re almost there, Jada. The next race is our last big hurdle.”
She didn’t say anything else. I wanted to give her some grand reassurance, but I wouldn’t lie to her. I opened the car door for her, and she curled into the leather seat, flipping her phone case over and over in her lap. Leather to leather to leather. That’s how I lived these days. My ass hadn’t sat on anything but it in so long I wasn’t sure it would know what to do when I did.
We didn’t say anything once we’d gotten into the car, and after almost wearing out the phone, Jada fell asleep. She stayed that way for the rest of the hour-long trip from Hartford down to New London. The silence had me reliving every moment of the last week, trying to figure out what else may have tipped them off. By the time I pulled into the driveway of her house, I still hadn’t found my answer.
I tried to shake her awake, but she barely budged. That was when I knew she’d had more than alcohol. Tranquilizers were her favor of choice when she felt really out of control.
I scooped her up, unlocked the front door with my thumb to the scanner, and headed down the marble-floored hallway to her bedroom. I laid her down, brushing the tangle of curls away from her face. The black tones shimmered with purple and blue in the pale light of the Tiffany lamp.
She was beautiful. Devastatingly tortured and beautiful. A combination that many men would find fascinating, but there was nothing between Jada and me but friendship. Trust manufactured out of necessity.
She looked up at me with heavily hooded eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slurring.
“Do I need to stay?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nah, just going to sleep it off.”
“You have to be more careful,” I said, chest twisting again.
