Page 60 of The Last Call
I hate him touching me. Cuddling me and coddling me. I hate myself even more for craving him. Snuggling in and letting him hold me. Comforting me when the only other person who ever did that is dead. And almost killed me.
Mack shot me.
My friend shot me.
I don’t know how to be okay because my best friend shot me.
I shove against Julius. Twisting and fighting to get away until agony rips through my injury almost as bad as my heart.
“Damn it lion. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
His arm wraps around my torso trapping my arms in his hold. So damn strong I’m immobile. I pant from the exertion. Overwhelmed from the effort of fighting with him and trying to make sense of everything and drowning in this flood of emotions that I hate. Being numb is so much easier. I’d forgotten how much my heart can ache, and I don’t think I can stand the pain.
Closing my eyes feels so nice. I just want to sleep. To feel safe. To feel loved. To feel whole. But every time I let myself feel that way, I get hurt. Julius is no different regardless of how much either of us pretends he is. “Please just let me go. Please leave me alone.”
“No.”
I give up and let him win again. Listening to his heartfelt murmurs despite having no idea what he’s saying. Wishing things weren’t so complicated, and I wasn’t so fucked up in the head. Forcing myself not to cry because of him or Mack or anyone.
“Tell me why you won’t let yourself love me.”
My heart breaks from his raw plea. Almost as broken as I am. “Because the man who was supposed to love me from my first breath to his last, disowned me. The man who gave me butterflies and made me think maybe he could be the one, raped me. The man who claimed to be my only true friend in the entire world, shot me.” I can barely breathe with him squeezing me against him. I can barely talk from my voice cracking. I can’t stop though. He has to know. “So if you wonder why I can’t believe in you, it’s because I’m tired of discovering that what I believe about the men I trust isn’t real.”
“There’s nothing more real than this Sydney.”
I’ve never wanted to believe in anything more than that. More than him. More than us. Hating that I’m so confused, I beg him for patience. “I just need time. You’re smothering me. You have to give me some space. Can’t you understand that?”
“You can have all the damn time you need. But not space. You live with me, you sleep in my bed, until you realize I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”
I open my mouth to argue. But I’m exhausted and can’t seem to form the words I want to say anymore. Floating too deep in this heady haze to articulate my reasoning. Drifting off to his whispers against my hair. I’ll tell him later. He’ll believe me then.
She swirls the ruby liquid in her glass and takes a long sip. Emptying the tumbler. She shouldn’t be drinking with pain killers but of course she disregards the doctor’s orders as much as she does mine.
I finish my own scotch and pour a second. We’ve been home for a week, and the only thing we seem to agree on is our choice of alcohol. Worse than arguing, we don’t even speak. I work. She sleeps. I chase. She runs. I hurt. She hurts worse. I try to comfort her. She resists me. Both of us fucking miserable, and neither of us can figure out how the hell to fix what’s broken between us.
My damn phone buzzes for what seems like the fucking hundredth time since I walked in here and found her staring at a blank screen with her expression almost as vacant. She said she wanted to work on the Victorian, but never even clicked on the file. Guess I’ll have to hire someone else.
I glance at my cell. Fuck! Val is checking on her since I’d forgotten to update her like I promised I would after she found out lion woke up. Maybe Syd should talk to her friend herself since she doesn’t have any interest in conversing with me. “It’s Val Vernon. She wants to see how you’re doing.”
The first spark of life I’ve seen in her all day—hell all week—as her head flies up, and she gapes at me. “How does she even know?”
I guess I never told Syd with everything else such a fucked up mess. Not that I thought she would care with the depression she’s mired in. “I brought her to the hospital. I thought maybe if she talked to you that you’d wake up.”
“You did that…for me?”
Shock flushes her pale face. Her gaze boring into me, studying me, as if she’s never seen me before. A frantic search for the meaning behind my proclamation.
“I did every single fucking thing I could think of so you’d be okay.”
Realization of my intentions makes her succulent mouth fall open. “That’s why Nonna is here too?”
“Of course.”
A slow nod as she frowns, huddling into herself while she ponders my assertion. Yet, she doesn’t ask for more, and I don’t offer. Obviously she doesn’t believe me. About this or anything else. I want to shake her. To scream and swear at her to make her understand that I would never do any of the things she fears. But if she doesn’t accept how much I love her by now, then I don’t think she ever will.
I leave her to her bottle. I have my own demons to nurse.
The door slowly opens, and beautiful lion peeks inside. As much as she claims she wants me to leave her alone, she always searches for me. Never wants to be too far away from where I am. Caught snooping when our eyes meet, she steps all the way into my office. Even from across the room I can feel the stress ravishing her little body. Coiled taut from her battle with me and herself.
