Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) (39 page)

“Reggie got on the phone with the social worker who helped him get custody of Presley and she worked with the state to get Mia released back to Drake full time. He will have to take random drug tests and the social worker will
drop by with surprise visits to make sure Mia is being properly cared for.” I feel a lump the size of a baseball lodge in my throat. I clear it a few times to make it go down, but it does nothing.

“I’m not
gonna lie to you, brother. Shit can’t possibly get worse for us at home. No one is happy and we fight all the time. It’s ugly.”

“What about Delilah? What’s she make of all this and you going to jail again?” Jeremy asks
, trying to change the subject to a lighter topic, but little does he know this topic is just as heavy and gut wrenching as the others.

“She doesn’t know anything. I haven’t spoken to her since Presley’s funeral.”

“What happened?” Concern is written all over his face because Jeremy has gotten really close to Delilah through the last couple of years.

Like a pussy
, I confide in my brother, aching to tell someone of my pain. “In a nutshell, we fucked, I told her I loved her and she basically said she didn’t, then left.”

“Jesus, yeah
, you’re right. Life can’t get any worse for you and I’m sorry I put you and everyone else through all this shit, especially Drake.”

The guard comes up behind Jeremy and alerts him he has one more minute to speak with me. Just like that, twenty minutes
has vanished rapidly as we say our goodbyes and he’s ushered back into the prison. Gone are the carefree days we’ve spent as kids swimming at the lake and the nights as adults we spent racing and hanging out—bonding as brothers.

Pain and loss take me over
as I watch him disappear from my sight and vanish for the next twenty years.

Delilah

The days have quickly vanished since I left Jake Evans in that hotel room weeks ago and tomorrow I will be walking down the aisle
, becoming Mrs. Emerson Knox. His name sounds foreign in my thoughts because I haven’t mustered up a single thought for Emerson since that horrible night. Jake has been in my mind twenty-four seven and I don’t know how to get him out.

When I was a kid, the only type of husband I dreamed about was a man exactly li
ke Emerson, a man who’s responsible and put together. Never in my dreams would I have wanted to run away from everything I’ve ever known to spend the rest of my life with a tattooed jerk who’s single-handedly stolen my heart with one fateful glance. Then again, I’ve never wanted to slap someone as much as I wanted to slap Jake, either. All of this actually makes me really mad at him.

He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with me or anyone. He was only supposed to learn how to treat women better, not fall in love with the person responsible for opening his eyes to love.

There are days where I wish I never met him. The Delilah I’ve become would have never existed and I wouldn’t be sitting here thinking of a man I can never have the day before I say
I do
to another.

My mother and father
have gotten me a suite at an upscale hotel for the night before my wedding. My bridesmaids are here for hours after the rehearsal dinner, though once midnight rolls around, I kick them out to get a few hours of peace to myself. Tomorrow, the preparations start early, and by four o’clock the doors at the church will open and I will be walking down the aisle with my father, turning my life over to Emerson.

As elegant as this room is, I don’
t want to be here at all. I lie down on the giant bed and close my eyes. When I drift off to sleep, I dream of tattooed arms wrapped around my waist that are pressing me into his chest—finally at peace.

***

All American Nightmare
comes blasting from my cell phone, startling me from the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks. Without hesitating, I pick up the phone and stare at the picture of a carefree Jake. I debate on letting the call go to voicemail, but my craving to hear his voice gets the better of me, and I answer, waiting to hear his voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” Jake’s voice is very quiet and reminds me a lot of the night he told me Presley died. Something is weighing heavily on his mind and guilt builds because I haven’t been there to help him through it. Or maybe the source of his pain is still me. “Sorry it’s late, but I wanted to tell you Carter has been arrested.”

“Oh
, thank God. When did he get arrested?”

“About a month ago. Carter
pled guilty to involuntary manslaughter and got sentenced to ten years in prison.”

“That doesn’t seem very fitting for his crime. He should spend the rest of his life behind bars.” I’m angry. What he did is inexcusable. He
’s torn a family apart, taken a mother from her baby and has changed the lives of all of us.

“How’s Drake taking all of this?”

Jake lets out another big sigh and remains quiet for a few moments. “Drake is angry. We all are.”

“Carter
deserves worse. I understand why you’re so angry.”

“That’s part of it, but there’s more.” I can barely hear his voice. I know he’s debating what he wants to say. There
’s an ache in my heart, knowing he can’t come to me anymore when he’s hurting. “Jeremy’s been arrested, too.”

“For what?”

“He and Ronnie were working with Carter; they were the other suppliers. When Carter got arrested, he made a deal, turning Jeremy over to the police.” I am stunned. I’m trying to find words to say, but nothing comes to mind. I don’t know what to tell Jake.

There’s stillness across the other end. The only noise is the sound of light rain falling outside. I know he’s there because I can hear him breathing
, however nothing is being said. I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t be damaging, but I don’t want to let him go. Although I can’t see his eyes, I can feel the burning intensity and the sensation they give me whenever he looks at me. Jake has an open door to my soul and the weeks we’ve spent apart have not changed that. He still lives in my heart.

“It’s all been impossible…
impossible to deal with beca—”

“Because why, Jake
?”

“Never mind, I’ll…
a… talk to you later.”

The line disconnects and my heart follows suit. The family is understandably hurting and there’s nothing I can do about it. After weeks, I’ve finally got
ten to speak to him again, but my heart is broken. Why? What was I expecting? I’m the one who left him. I’ve deserted him when he needed me the most, and now, when his voice tells me he needs me, his words cut me short. I roll to my side, trying to fall back asleep, but as predicted, the task is impossible.

***

The rain hasn’t stopped falling since last night. The droplets tap against the glass as the sky is lit up from the random flashes of lightning. Since last week, I’ve been in a blur, a walking zombie trying to allow the reality of marrying Emerson Knox to sink in. This is what I’ve always been told to do, been raised to do. My mind has been engrained—from the time I was born—to be attached to a man who my parents approve of; a man who comes from money and whose family is affluent in society. I am to become a Stepford wife. I’m to become my mother.

The church
’s library has been transformed into a makeshift dressing room. The table is covered in make-up, combs, hair spray and everything else a woman needs to make herself beautiful on the day that’s supposed to be the best day of her life. I feel anything but beautiful; actually, I don’t feel anything except what I feel for Jake.

L
ast night’s phone call has left me missing him tremendously and the heartache of our separation deepens with every breath I take. Sleep did not find me until six in the morning, and from what my mother has implied, I look awful. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, he’s who I saw behind my eyelids—the most intriguing brown eyes ignited by fire.

I kept thinking about the last night I saw him.

For a little while, what we had was perfect and as perfect as our moment was, I let everything fall apart when I told him we had to be over.

It’s been six excruciating weeks without him. How am I supposed to make it a lifetime when six weeks
is nearly impossible?

Here I sit, in the middle of the
church’s library, the last of the bobby pins have been secured in my hair and I can barely hear anything going on around me. My body obeys, like the trained robot it’s become, while my mind is screaming to run and my heart is bleeding in agony, but my body abides with every demand from my mother.

I stand to my feet and allow my mother and Aunt Laura to secure
the hundreds of buttons of my wedding dress. It is a strapless, white gown that fits tightly through my chest, waist and hips then bells into flowing tulle and lace. The cathedral veil substitutes the lack of train and the entire gown has been handmade especially for my big day. The sweetheart neckline dips perfectly toward the swell of my breasts, careful not to reveal too much cleavage. The stunning part of my gown is the delicate lace sewn into the bodice. It’s the exact same lace used on my mother’s wedding dress as well as my grandmother’s. It’s absolutely breathtaking and suffocating all at the same time.

When I get a glimpse in the mirror
, I feel like I am looking at someone else. The person I used to be before the summer I met Jake Evans. The tears begin to pool in my eyes, but I can’t allow them to fall. I just need a minute to get myself together. I can do this. I’ve been planning to marry Emerson for the last year and he’s the man I… love?

Why am I questioning this? I’ve been convincing myself for the past
few weeks that this is what I need to do, what I have to do, but after the phone call last night, all my confidence has vanished.

I just need a moment to myself, I have to get it together and I only have minutes before it’s time to walk down the aisle.

My mother is bustling around the room, acting like a complete lunatic as she critiques everyone’s hair, makeup and dresses. I get her attention as she’s fluffing the back of my veil.

“Mom, I need a moment alone…
to catch my breath.” The fakest smile spreads across my face and I move to the reading nook just off the library.

I pull the pocket door closed and glance around the
tiny room, which holds two oversized brown leather chairs with a small reading light affixed to a table, and has an incredible view of the garden through the patio doors located behind the church. I allow my legs to go weak and collapse in the chair. My mind is racing and my hands won’t stop shaking.

Stop it!

Why are my hands so shaky?

I sit on the edge of the chair, leaning my head down and start to take deep breaths in and out
with my chest rising and falling from every inhale and exhale. I can’t get him out of my mind. Jake has always been in the forefront of my mind. From the day I met him, he’s always been there.

Stop it!
I scream in my head. This is how it’s supposed to be. I have to be with Emerson. We have an entire church full of people who want to see us happily married. My mother and father have spent all this money to give me the wedding of my dreams and Emerson Knox will be a great husband. Life as I know it will be just how I’ve always imagined before Jake Evans came stomping in.

I don’t even have time to assess what I really want before I am ushered from the small nook into the library and then standing in the
narthex just behind the closed wooden doors of the church’s sanctuary. The sound of the rain is deafening when it lands against the stained glass. Thunder is rolling in the distance, producing a low rumble, vibrating the windows.

My father holds out his arm
, inviting me to take it. So I do. I’m starting to feel faint and at any moment I’m sure I will pass out. “You know, pumpkin, your happiness is all I’ve ever wanted for you.” I nod my head, not really listening to what he’s saying, only focusing on keeping myself upright. “But I suppose the last couple of months it’s been nearly impossible to pretend you’re happy.”

My head snaps in his direction and I stare at one of the most important men in my life. He looks dashing in his black tux and neatly combed salt and pepper hair. My dad is not much taller than me, but what he lacks in size he makes up
for with his intimidating presence. He’s an accomplished man, who’s done wonderful things in medicine, and he’s always been my buffer when my mother gets a little overwhelming, but this… it’s completely out of character for him.

“What?” I whisper.

“Happiness doesn’t equate to you being with the richest, most successful person. It only means there is nothing you would change, or regret, in life. Emerson is a fine boy, and I know he can provide well for you, but is that what will make you happy?” He’s not looking at me, only speaking his words out into the open, and I find them suffocating, more so than my dress.

“What are you saying
, Daddy?” I ask, praying he will tell me what to do. I pull on his arm slightly, making his eyes connect with mine. “Daddy?”