Page 17 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“J, please, it hurts too bad,” I plead, the grip of panic tightening around my ribcage. Water drips from my nose as I use the spray to drown out her responses.

It doesn’t work. I’d hear that voice anywhere.

“Good,” he barks, and a sob explodes from me, leaving me no chance of holding it back. I can’t hear her right now. I can’t be reminded of what I did to her, to the both of us. Pinning her against the door, fucking her like a rabid dog. It’s disgusting. She may have wanted it, but that doesn’t make it any better.

“Is that Riggs?” she asks, and I can’t tell if her hope is good or bad.

“Yeah, it’s him,” J says, despondent.

“Oh god, is he okay? Jensen, tell me he’s okay.” Her voice is thick with emotion, emotion that slices my heart open with each word.

Why does this woman feel for me? Why can’t she just let me go, let me live my life in misery the way I like it? Falling for someone wasn’t my plan, and I had a plan. A perfectly good one.

Death. It’s as good a plan as any.

“Jensen, please, I can’t take this,” I cry as my knees give way, dropping me to the shower floor with a painful thud. I absorb the sting that the collision gives me, let it ring through my body happily because it provides a distraction, even if it’s minute.

“Oh, you can’t? That’s too bad, buddy. I have to check on my friends, because that’s what friends do. But I have to make sure your girl is okay.” Anger flares through me. Can’t he tell what this is doing to her? Why is he torturing her like that? If I weren’t so goddamn drunk, I’d bash his fucking face in. Fuck drinking. Why did I drink? I never do. If I had just gotten high, I could hand him his ass right now for hurting Charley. Not even likely, but it’s a good thought.

I’d be right where I am because I don’t stand a chance against Jensen.

He’s not the one hurting her, though. Is he?

“She’s not my girl,” I croak, hoping Charley doesn’t catch that statement. She doesn’t need me to add to her pain. But I’m desperate for him to hang the damn phone up.

“Yeah? Is that why you are drunk off your ass right now?” he asks, and my anger rises to dangerous proportions. Well, dangerous for me, not him. He’s getting off easily while my mind is taunting me and my stomach is close to volcanic status. I’m well past the moment of being embarrassed, on my knees, sobbing in the shower, so what’s a little vomit?

“Jensen, is he okay? Do I need to come there?” I try to stand, as if that will somehow help, like maybe I can grab the phone from him and tell her no. Like she can’t hear what I’m saying already.

“No!” I scream. “Do not come here!”

She sobs and that’s all I can take.

The alcohol sloshing in my stomach revolts. The sounds of my retching dance around the bathroom, echoing enough to taunt me.Exactly what she needs to hear right now.

“Jensen!” she shrieks. “Is. He. Okay?” Jensen composes himself as I continue to return the whisky in my system back to the earth, or at least the drain. My ribs are screeching at me to stop and I wish I could oblige them.

“Yeah, hon’, he will be. I promise. I wanted to make sure you were after he told me what happened.” He shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep. Charley’s crying in the background is all my mind can register, and it feels like someone is driving a knife into my chest, wriggling it between my ribs and twisting.

“I’ve got her, big guy. She’s fine,” Foxy adds in the background, and a slight shiver of relief trickles over me. At least she isn’t alone.

My stomach finally gives me a reprieve and I sit on my haunches, dropping my head back and letting the water run over me. The spray cleans the shower floor and Jensen reaches in to turn off the flow. A towel drapes over me.

“Alright, ladies, I’ll check in later,” he tells them and drops beside me, torturing me when her next words escape the phone.

“I miss him,” she says, her voice so faint I don’t think she meant to say it. The statement was more of a thought that slipped out.Fuck, I miss her.My hand comes to my chest again to rub.

“I know you do.” Jensen sighs, and it’s so sad I replay the sound repeatedly. He’s peering down at me with the weight of the world swirling in his storm-cloud eyes. Disappointment and embarrassment flood me and I rip the shower curtain shut, but he stops me, yanking it back open.

“Thank you for taking care of him, J.” He nods as if she can see it, but he’s nodding to me, acknowledging the thanks I don’t have to give him.

“Anytime.” With a tap on the screen, he hangs up and places his phone in his back pocket. “How you doing, brother?”

I raise a brow at him, reining in my attitude. Jensen doesn’t need it. Doesn’t deserve my childish antics. “How am I doing? You just listened to what I did. How the fuck do you think I’m doing?”

“Still think she’s not your girl?” He smirks and I want to slap it right off his smug face, but I don’t because he’s right. No one has a reaction like that to someone who isn’t their girl.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, though. I can’t hurt her, not anymore than I already have. But hurting her is all I’m bound to do, sooner or later.

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