Page 75 of Free to Believe
After he made slow, tender love to me, he promised to be back after he grabbed clothes and “some real freaking food to eat. Jesus, Em. How do you survive on this crap?” He’s holding up a container of greek yogurt.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I offer weakly.
“I’m not acquiring it. I’ll be right back with real food. Go get showered, lady. After we eat, we’ll take Mugs out.” Brushing my wildly curling hair away from my face, he looks at me seriously. “Then, Em? We need to talk.”
I try to dampen down the panic building inside me. “About what?”
He thinks about it for a moment before he asks me quietly, “Do you know you talk in your sleep?”
I literally feel the blood drain from my face. Stumbling away from him, I reach out for the island counter. I grip it to stay on my feet.What did I say?
“Em? Em, goddamnit, look at me!” Pulling my face toward him, Jake yanks me back into his arms. “Don’t you see we’re too far in? Don’t you understand that letting me see who you really are isn’t going to change how I’m beginning to feel?”
That’s what scares the hell out of me. Because it might. Instead of responding verbally, I press my trembling lips together tightly.
That’s the thing with silence: you can’t argue back with it verbally.
Jake growls. Yanking me back toward him, he lowers his head and kisses me. Hard. Savaging my lips with his, he lifts his head only when the rest of my body is as shaking as my lips were. “Be back.” He storms to the door. Throwing it open, he stomps out.
His footsteps echo in the stillness of the room.
I tried loving him less, I scream mentally.It doesn’t work that way. I love him and Jenna. If I never tell them, it hurts me, and that’s what our deal was. Hurt me and no one else I love will die, right? Right, you bastard?
Without waiting for an answer, I make my way to the bathroom so I can be dressed for when Jake comes back.
* * *
Twenty minutes later,I’ve showered and thrown on a quick outfit. I’m running a pick through my curls when I realize Mugsy hasn’t come in to see me yet this morning.
Frowning, I make my way to the laundry room where his bed is located. Standing at the door, I let out a sigh of relief. Poor old man, still sleeping? I walk over and crouch in front of him. Stroking his head that’s more gray than black, I feel a chill whip through me.
“Mugs?” I rub his shoulder, but he doesn’t stir. “Mugsy, it’s time for breakfast. Jake’s going to bring over something like bacon or some crap.” My voice is shaking. “Come on, baby. It’s time to wake up.”
No.
Just no.
This can’t be my punishment.
You bastard, you wouldn’t do this, would you?
“Mugsy,” I plead. “Mugsy, wake up!” I lay my head down on his chest and hear shallow breaths. I hear the door open and do something so instinctive, I never begin to question it. I scream.
“Jake!”
43
Jake
I’m opening the door when I hear her scream my name. Everything stops: time, my heart, the world. Dropping the bag of groceries and other things I brought from the house, I race in the direction of her voice.
What I find shatters me.
Emily is lying next to Mugsy sobbing her heart out. Her face is buried in the scruff of his neck, and she’s begging for him to wake up. “Jesus Christ,” I whisper. “Baby, let me help.”
“This is why,” she’s mumbling. “This is why.”
“Em, get out of the way. I need to see what’s wrong with him. We have to get him to the vet.”
