Page 117 of Beneath the Hood

Her touch shocks me back to life and I clear my throat, pasting on a smirk. “I’m great. Hey, I’m leaving for the day, okay? Let Karen know.”

She gives a thumbs up, her eyes wary, and I race out of the front door, my heart racing faster than my feet can carry me, determined to find her and figure out what the hell is going on.

* * *

It’s beenthree hours of me calling and Blakely hasn’t answered a single time.

I try again, my head falling into my hands, this time an operator coming on the line and telling me that her line has been disconnected.

“Fuck!”Throwing my phone on the coffee table, I stand up, pacing. Frustration reaches up and clobbers my chest with its fists.

How could she do this?

I grab my keys from the counter, deciding to drive to her house and refuse to leave until she lets me in. Maybe that means I’m unhinged, but since my world has imploded anyway, what’s the worst that can happen?

Buzzing the intercom once I’m at the gate, anxiety lines the base of my stomach like fire ants, the sting shooting from my gut to my throat.

My fingers press the button again and again, but nobody answers, and I slam my fists against my steering wheel, defeat clawing through my chest and pulling my muscles tight.

How am I supposed to figure out what the hell is going on if I can’tgetto her?

My phone rings and I jump to answer, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Rhoades, this is Blakely Donahue’s manager, Sierra.”

My teeth grit. “Sierra, is Blakely with you?”

She sighs. “That’s none of your concern, I’m afraid. But she did ask me to make this courtesy call to let you know that your presence is no longer necessary.”

Her words go off like a gunshot, blasting holes through my middle, blood seeping out onto the floor. “Bullshit. This isbullshit, Sierra.” My palm smacks the steering wheel. “Let me talk to Blakely.”

“I’m afraid that’s just not possible. And if you don’t stopharassingher, I’ll contact the police and put a restraining order in place. I’d hate to have that tarnish your stellar reputation. Have a good day, Jackson.”

Click.

My breaths are deep as I stare at my phone, my brain zooming through every encounter I’ve ever had with Blakely, wondering what I missed, or where the fuck things went so wrong.

Why is she doing this?

I can only come up with one possible conclusion.

She’s a coward, and if I ever needed to know whether she would choose me or her career if it came down to it—now that answer is crystal clear.

I’m second choice.Again.

I thought I knew heartbreak when I left Sugarlake, but that was just a graze—a scrape—compared to the severed limb of Blakely giving up on us. Of the realization that maybe I never meant much to her at all.

That maybe, I was always just a safe place for her to land.

A visceral pain shoots through the width of my chest, my heart squeezing until it bursts, the glued-together pieces ripping apart until my love is no longer recognizable.

Now, it’s just shredded paper.

“Jax.”

My head snaps up. I’m not sure how long I’ve been idling outside of her estate, but clearly, it’s been long enough for someone to notice I was here.

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