Page 26 of Trust in the Fallen

I left a note on my way out, thanking them for the best night of my life as I fought the tears threatening to fall, but it’s not enough. Nothing I could ever give them would be.

The New York streets pass by, bringing me closer and closer to the Upper East Side and to the home I share with Jason. A gift from my parents for our engagement. A place I wish I could walk away from and never see again.

Jason normally works on Saturday mornings. He always says only lazy people take a full weekend, that no one really needs more than a day of rest before the week starts again, but I’ve always thought those comments have more to do with me sitting at home all day every day than how he actually feels about the five-day work week. Not that he gave me any choice in the matter.

Iwantedto work. I begged him, and my parents, to let me put my degree to use, but they insisted there was no point. Not when we got engaged on the day we graduated from college, and as soon as we’re married there’s no sense in working because we’ll be starting a family. Not that I have any say in any of that. That’s the plan they have for me, and one that I’m expected to follow along with blindly.

The early morning sun shines brightly on our quiet street, a rarity in the heart of such a big city, surrounded by skyscrapers and people rushing to get on with their day, but all I see is the future I don’t want sitting in front of me.

I pay the cab driver and climb out. The stupid angel costume hangs from my body, my bare feet touching the ice-cold concrete of the sidewalk before I drag myself up the stairs to the front door, my ankle protesting with every step. My keys sit heavy in my palm as I raise my hand to unlock the door, but before I can reach for the lock it swings open, and I’m face to face with the man I found cheating on me last night.

“Where have you been?” He growls and pulls me into the house with a harsh tug. He glances around the street, making sure no one saw me doing the walk of shame before slamming the door behind me. “I waited up all night for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” I say quietly, yanking my arm from his grasp with a wince. He’s not normally so physical with me, but the last few months he’s been changing. His anger has been escalating, and with that have come some things I probably shouldn’t have overlooked.

“How would you know?” he snaps. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t plan to either.” I start toward the stairs, dreading every step that will bring me closer to the bedroom we share on the third floor. The place is way too big for just the two of us, but as my parents always say, soon it will be filled with kids.

I only get up the first few steps before I’m pulled back down, and I don’t get the chance to catch myself before I land on my ass at the bottom with a heavy thud and shooting pain spreads through my whole body.

“We’re not done here,” Jason forces through gritted teeth, and for the first time since I walked in the door I actually take him in. His shirt is rumpled, his eyes dark and crazed, and there’s something unhinged about his demeanor that I can’t remember ever seeing before.

This isn’t the calm, collected, and frankly boring man I’m supposed to marry. No. This is a monster who hides behind a persona.

He crouches down to my level and grips my chin in a tight hold. “Where. Were. You. Last. Night?” He enunciates each word and sends dread spiraling through my stomach.

“At a friend’s,” I whisper. “I didn’t want to see you after seeing you with that woman at the bar. I needed some time to cool down and collect my thoughts.”

He watches me for long seconds, looking for some kind of sign that I’m lying, but I hope he won’t find anything. Can he still smell the sex on my skin? Can he tell by the way my makeup is smudged and my hair rumpled that I’m not telling him the truth? Did he have me followed? Did he track my phone?

Each thought hits me like a truck, until it’s not a metaphorical truck that hits me but a fist, straight to the temple. I can barely take a breath before another hit lands on my stomach, and a moment later stars burst into my vision, and there’s nothing I can do to keep myself awake.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

ELIAS

Since being discharged from the SEALs, sleep hasn’t come naturally to me. At first it was the memories of what I’d seen, the horrors of watching the men I considered brothers die right in front of me. But then I guess it was just a habit. I spent so many years barely getting a few hours of sleep a night, that my body learned to live on small bursts of sleep.

But as consciousness tugs my body from what would normally only be a few hours of rest, I realize I slept the entire night and from the bright sun streaming through the open blinds, into the morning as well.

Leighton’s soft floral scent surrounds me, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Is she the reason my body finally allowed itself a full night of rest? Could this be what it’s like for the rest of our lives? Waking up to her, fucking her into oblivion, happiness?

I drag my eyes open and turn my head, expecting to see her dark hair fanned across the pillow and her sleepy smile, but instead I only see Wyatt on the other side of the bed.

Where the hell is she?

I sit up with a start and look around, desperately searching for anything of hers that we discarded when we stripped her last night.

But it’s all gone.

She’s gone.

Emotions crash over me all at once until I can't differentiate what I’m feeling at all. Anger. Sadness. Resentment. Fear. The ache in my chest deepens, and I rub the center to try to ease some of the pain. How could she leave after all we shared last night?

But then again, everyone leaves Wyatt and I. Our families. Our ex-wives. Now Leighton.

I take a deep breath and will my body to calm down before reaching over to shake Wyatt. I don’t want to have to break this to him, not when he got his hopes up so high. But we can’t bury our heads in the sand. We’ve never been those kinds of men, and I don’t plan to change that now.

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