Page 87 of Needing Your Love
Chewing on a fingernail, I examined the bedroom window. Could I climb out and drop to the ground a floor below without killing myself? Probably not the smartest choice. I could end up with two broken legs and be unable to escape this nightmare. Sutton would see me at my worst, attempting to crawl away from the pain like a worthless worm?—
“Fuck.” I choked on the word, blinking my eyes rapidly to keep the tears contained. Nothing could be done about the agony ripping through me, and I clutched at my chest as my heart slowly rent from top to bottom.
Could I possibly sneak into the kitchen and get out the slider before either of them caught sight of me? A quick sprint across the lawn to my car wouldn’t be too cold?—
The BMW’s keys hung beside the front door.
More curses spilled from my trembling lips as I fisted my hands at my sides so they wouldn’t shake.
Inaction would only heighten my already thrumming pulse, my inability to draw a full breath.
Iwouldn’tfreeze this time and prove what a coward I was. I had to move. Protectmyselffor a fucking change.
One hesitant foot in front of the other, I made it to the landing.
I almost slipped down the stairs in my socks, which sent another burst of adrenaline through my already shaking body. The entryway sat empty, and I could hear the low murmur of voices in the living room. A peek around the corner showed them on the couch—sitting too goddamned fucking close.
Heat flushed through me again, and I clenched my jaw, ready to crawl on hands and knees by the opening to reach the entryway and everything I needed to get away from the sight of them together.
Worm.
Eyes closing, I swallowed hard. I wouldn’t crawl—for anyone, for anyreason. No matter how badly I wanted to crumple in on myself and disappear beneath the earth’s crust, where hiding would be ten times easier than living.
I stepped forward without a whisper of noise, eyes straight ahead as I stumbled past the living room entrance, praying like fuck they would be too wrapped up in each other to notice my presence.
Sutton didn’t see me, and if he did, he chose to ignore me because he didn’t call out to stop me from leaving.
My lower lip felt raw and chewed to bits before I got my shoes and coat on. The keys made a quiet clinking noise as I lifted them off the hook where they hung beside Sutton’s all cozy, like they’d found a new home. A fresh wave of pain slammed into my chest, and I bit on my tongue to keep my sobs contained. A silent turn of the knob, a gentle tug inward, and the door opened without sound.
I stepped onto the stoop, my ragged breaths a puff of white, my lungs instantly chilled by the early morning temperature.
Jamie’s SUV flew around the corner, and I only made it halfway down the walkway before he pulled into the driveway beside my car. He hopped out, jeans and flannel unbuttoned, hurrying around the front of his vehicle.
Sutton must have known Darla was in town. He’d invited his son over for fuck’s sake—and Jamie rushed forward as though desperate to see his mom again. I’d thought he hated her—he’d spoken of what she’d done with anger and hurt.
But like father, like son.
Again.
My throat went tight as hell, and I swallowed hard, a whine building in my chest.
Jamie stumbled in his haste when his gaze landed on me. “Jimmy?”
I pushed past him, hitting the unlock and yanking open the driver door of my car.
“Jimmy!”
Tears slid down my cheeks as I backed out of the driveway like my ass was on fire. I took off up the road without a destination in mind. I could drive to Canada and never return. Head west and never look back. Hop a plane in Boston, jet across the pond, and never think about Sutton again.
As if.
I swiped the wetness from my cheeks, but the tears continued to roll, making it difficult for me to see the road. Sobs started to tear from my lungs, and I struggled to keep a tight grip on the wheel as my insides shredded, leaving my soul in tatters.
I needed to get off the road before I killed someone.
A parking lot on the left beckoned through my watery eyesight, so I pulled in and cut the engine, forehead dropping to the steering wheel. I’d never cried so hard in my life. Not even when Dad had beaten the shit out of me and left me bleeding on my old bedroom floor the day I’d turned eighteen. He’d called me countless names, blamed me for my mom’s death, and that agony didn’t compare to how my heart ached like a thousand pound weight sat atop it, slowly crushing its ability to beat.
Stuttered breaths barely allowed me to stay conscious as I sank in on myself and wallowed in my misery.
