Page 56 of Wicked Scorn
Then another.
Until finally, she pulls the phone away from her ear and jabs at the screen with one manicured nail, effectively ending the call. For a long moment, she stares at the device clenched in her hand, chest heaving with harsh breaths. When she finally looks up at me, her eyes are over-bright with unshed tears.
“He…he uh, Rem,” she whispers, voice cracking with emotion. “There was no one there. He didn’t actually call me. Just a stupid fucking pocket dial. Two fucking years and then this. Why am I not worth it for the people I love to stick around?”
The anguish in her tone, the naked vulnerability shining from those beautiful blue eyes, has the anger draining out of me in an instant. I step forward and gather her trembling body into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She melts into my embrace with a soft, broken sound, burying her face in the hollow of my throat.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” I murmur, pressing a lingering kiss to her silky hair. “I know, I know.”
We stand like that for long moments, her slim form shaking with quiet sobs as I rub soothing circles over her back. The urge to hunt down her asshole brother and bash his face in wars with the need to comfort Oakley, to shield her from any more pain and heartache.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles again when her tears have subsided. Pulling back, she swipes at her damp cheeks with one hand, offering me a watery smile. “God, you must think I’m such a mess.”
“Never,” I growl fiercely, cupping her delicate jaw and brushing away the last lingering tear tracks with the pad ofmy thumb. “Don’t ever think that, okay? You’re the strongest, bravest person I know, Oakley. Look at what life has thrown you and you’re still here, still standing, still giving me a fucking run for my money.”
A muscle ticks in her jaw, and she gives a jerky little nod, pressing her face into my palm like she’s drawing strength from my touch. “I just…I hate that I was ready to cave. To forgive him as if he didn’t abandon me. He’s my big brother and the one person above all else I should be able to count on. To have in my corner, to protect me from the monsters under the bed and in real life. But all he did just now was make me feel like a desperate, helpless little girl.”
White-hot rage lances through me at her words. The thought of that idiot making Oakley feel anything less than cherished and adored makes me want to put my fist through a wall. She deserves so much better, so much more than his shitty, manipulative behavior. I gripe about my own brothers, but none of them would ever disappear and leave me when I needed them. She definitely deserves better than me and the sinister life breathing down my neck.
“Listen to me,” I say roughly, tilting her chin up so she meets my stare. “You’re not helpless anymore, you hear me? You’re a grown woman, beautiful and strong and so fucking incredible.”
She just nods but doesn’t say anything and I swear to fuck when I see Royce Ashford again, I’m knocking his ass out.
Oakley’s breath hitches, a sound so fragile it fractures the air between us. Suddenly, she steps back, her hand slipping from my grip as if it burns her.
“Take me home, Jeremiah,” she says, voice laced with an edge I can’t decipher. It’s not the soft plea from moments ago; it’s resolute, like she’s severing a lifeline.
“Oakley?” The confusion claws at my gut, a dull ache spreading through my chest.
“Please, just get me out of here,” she insists, and there’s a tremor in that one word, a shiver down her spine that doesn’t escape my notice. I read the conflict in her eyes, blue storms raging in depths I’m suddenly barred from entering.
“Alright, let’s go,” I agree, though every muscle in my body screams in protest. I slip on our helmets, but it’s like she’s oceans away.
The ride back to the house is silent, tense, and now I’m mad and annoyed at this entire situation. She doesn’t even wait for me to get off first and help her off. She’s already trying to undo the helmet herself, but her fingers are trembling too much. I unlatch it for her, and she gives me a small smile before heading toward the front door.
“Look, I can’t help if you don’t let me,” I admit to her retreating back. “One minute you’re all in, the next you’re sprinting for the hills and putting behind a damn brick wall.”
She winces. Good.
But just when I thought she’d turn around and fucking talk to me, she surprises us both by straightening her spine and walking away from me and right through the front door.
Oh no, baby bunny. You got me fucked up.
Chapter 21
Oakley
Ican do this; I tell myself as I stand outside of the study for lack of a better term. It’s fine. I only completely shut down, ignored him, and walked away a few hours ago. He hasn’t come up to his room and has left me completely alone staring at these four walls and picking at this navy-blue blanket. I need to just do it.
That stupid phone call from my brother that wasn’t even supposed to happen threw me back into the reality of this situation.
The scent of dark wood and leather fills my nostrils as I step into the dimly lit room, my heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal trapped in a cage. I can barely contain the anxiety that threatens to consume me, and I clear my throat, trying to steady myself as I face Jeremiah.
“Jeremiah,” I begin, my voice wavering slightly. God, why do I have to sound so weak right now? “We need to talk.”
He looks up at me, his green eyes piercing right through me, and I take a deep breath, gathering the strength I’ll need to express my decision.
“About what?” His tone is measured, almost detached. It infuriates me how he can be so calm when I’m a tornado of confusion inside.
