Cole (The Ride Series) (15 page)

“Did you hear?” she asked, referring
to the night before.

I nodded. “Most of it. I don’t get how
in the hell he thought I would be in his bed when he got home. He must be out
of his mind,” I said.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what
was going through his mind either, other than him being so completely wrecked
that we wouldn’t let him back here to see you.”

“Thank God you didn’t,” I breathed. We
were quiet for a few beats before I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to
do now,” I whispered, my eyes welling back up.

“What do you mean?” she asked softly.

“All I want is to just go home. But I
know he won’t allow that, none of them will. But if I thought I wanted to
disappear before, that was nothing compared to now.”

“I’m sure Sal will let you stay here,”
she suggested.

I shook my head. “I don’t want him in
the middle of this. It wouldn’t be fair. He and Cole go way back.”

“Connie?” she suggested.

I bit my lip. “Yeah, maybe that would
work for a little bit,” I sighed.

“I’ll call her,” she said immediately.
I knew she was desperate to do something to help. She got up to call Connie and
I continued my scrutiny of the ceiling.

I hadn’t moved by the time Kat
returned. “Connie said you can stay with her. I filled her in a little, I hope
you don’t mind,” she added.

I simply nodded, feeling completely
devoid of emotion. I felt utterly numb.

“Come on, Scar, let’s get you up and
into the shower. Then we’ll get some of your stuff and take you to Connie’s,”
she told me, pulling me up and practically shoving me into the bathroom.

I felt like a robot as I went through
the motions of getting dressed. Kat let me borrow some clothes. I stared at the
breakfast she put in front of me, unable to take a bite. I saw Sal and Kat
exchange glances, but I didn’t have it in me to put on a show. I was wrecked,
no sense in hiding it.

Finally, after what felt like an
eternity I was all set up in Connie’s guest room. We’d stopped briefly at the
apartment and Kat had run in to get some of my stuff. I sat on the bed and
stared into space. Kat had offered to stay with me but I waved her off. I
needed time alone and she had a life to live. Connie hadn’t asked questions but
had simply hugged me and showed me to my room. I was utterly grateful that she
didn’t hover. Finally, I curled up in a ball on top of the bedspread fully
clothed and fell asleep.

Chapter Eleven

When I woke up it was pitch black out and
the clock told me it was just after midnight. My stomach growled. I hadn’t
eaten in over 24 hours, but I ignored it. I clicked on the light and forced
myself to sit up. I sat there a while trying to get my head sorted when a soft
knock sounded at the door.

“Hey,” Connie said quietly, peaking
her head in. “I saw your light on, how are you?”

I gave her a weak smile. “Been
better.”

“You should eat something,” she said
softly.

“Later,” I shook my head. What I
really needed were my painkillers but if I took them on an empty stomach I knew
I’d get sick.

“Listen, I know it isn’t my place but
whatever happened – Cole looks about as good as you do,” she said
quietly. “He’s already come by several times to try to see you. I told him to
give it another day,” she said quietly.

“Cole can go to hell,” I shot out,
surprised by my anger, but relieved to feel it. I was tired of being so
desperately sad.

She looked at me carefully before
nodding simply.

“I think I’ll just watch some TV for a
little bit if that’s okay,” I said while standing up to stretch my stiff limbs.

“Whatever you need, babe,” she said.
“I just got home from work and was planning to head to Wes’s. Will you be okay
by yourself?” she asked worriedly.

“Totally,” I said as I nodded. In
fact, it sounded great to have the place to myself. “I really appreciate you
putting me up.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m barely ever
here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” she said with a warm smile.

I got changed into my pajamas and
grabbed a cozy throw blanket. I curled up on the couch and flipped on the TV as
Connie gathered her stuff and headed out.

My phone chirped with the tenth text
of the day from Cole, and I reached over and turned the thing off without even
looking at what his message said. He couldn’t act that way with me and then
just bombard me until I gave in. I needed space and time to collect myself. I’d
been through a hell of a lot the last few days and I needed to feel safe and
secure. At the moment, that meant being alone.

I spent the next day pretty much well,
wallowing. The two times I tried to leave the apartment to get some air, I was
soon followed by some bad ass biker. I was in no mood to have a chaperone, so
each time I just turned back around and huffed my way back into the house. What
I really wanted was to be able to run off the confusion and hurt that I was
feeling but my injuries prevented that option. Cole was giving me my space.
He’d only texted once that day and because I missed him I couldn’t help but
look at it. It was simple and to the point.

“Miss you babe.”

I missed him, too. It hadn’t even been
two full days, but I did. He’d become the center of my universe in such a short
time. My heart belonged to him and I knew that it always would. But he’d hurt
me during a time when I was most fragile and I was far from ready to answer any
of his calls.

Kat stopped by to inform me that Cole
felt like utter shit. He told her so
himself
when he
asked her how I was. She was still pissed at him, but even she had given into
his persuasive tendencies and seemed to be gently suggesting that I talk to
him. I’d given her an outright “no,” which had stopped her from pressing me.

Dinnertime came and went, but I wasn’t
hungry. I’d been mindlessly watching TV for a while when I heard the low rumble
of a motorcycle that started in the distance but kept coming closer. My heart
started thudding in my throat at the unmistakable sound of it stopping out
front. A knock sounded at the door moments later.

“Shit,” I whispered to myself. I sunk
deeper into the couch hoping that he’d just go away.

“Not going away till you open the door,
babe,” I heard his deep voice boom through the door.

“Shit,” I clipped, hauling off the
couch and stalking to the front door. I took a deep breath trying to calm my
raging emotions and opened the door.

I hated that he was easily the most
handsome man I’d ever seen. I hated that even though I was beyond pissed at him,
my body still responded to him. I couldn’t help myself from taking him in, my
eyes roaming over his face. He did look tired, his eyes were red and he clearly
hadn’t shaved in a while. Not that he did that regularly anyway. I noticed him
doing the same thing, taking in my swollen, red eyes, my hair thrown up in a
sloppy bun. If he didn’t want to look at me before there certainly wasn’t
anything good to look at now.

“
Gonna
let
me in?” he asked quietly.

“Fuck no,” I replied without
hesitation.

He sighed and looked off to the side,
biting his lip as though he was choosing his words carefully.

“What I said, it came out wrong,” he
started.

“How the hell does ‘I can’t look at
you’ come out wrong?” I demanded, thankful that my anger hadn’t yet deserted me
for despair.

“My thoughts were all fucked up, I was
drinking and having a really fucking hard time with everything that happened to
you.” He blew out a breath. “In that moment, looking at you just reminded me
how I didn’t protect you--knowing what he did to you and that he was able to
get at you again,” he admitted. “Looking at you reminded me that I failed you,”
he said, his voice raw. “It had nothing to do with you and everything to do
with me,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” I nodded.

“Okay?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I understand. My shit is heavy
and it’s more than most people could handle. I just thought maybe you could,” I
said with feigning indifference. “But, I get it. No hard feelings.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean,
no hard feelings?” he demanded.

“I mean, no hard feelings. Take care
of yourself,” I said, starting to close the door.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, putting
a hand forcefully on the front door preventing me from closing it.

“We’re done, Cole,” I said as though
it were obvious.

“Come again?” his voice was
deceptively soft as he stared down at me.

“We’re done,” I said again, determined
to sound far more confident than I actually felt.

“The fuck we are,” he growled.

“Oh
no
,” I said, my anger flaring. “This is not the time for you to assert your
macho bullshit. You do not get to decide this. You already made your decision
when you disappeared into a whiskey bottle and told me some really fucking
hurtful shit following one of the worst weeks I’ve had in my life!” I exclaimed,
my voice rising. “Now it’s my turn and I say we are –
done
,” I said emphatically.

I glared at him and he stared back at
me. I watched his entire face change from frustration to something close to
reverence. I braced for what he was about to say.

“We aren’t. We’ll never be done,” he
returned without hesitation. “I’m yours and you’re mine. I said something I
didn’t mean, it came out entirely wrong. And I’m sorry I hurt you… really
fucking sorry, baby. But we’ll work it out. There just isn’t another option,”
he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let me
clue you in. The other option is for us to be
done
!” I shrieked, trying to close the door on him again but he
quickly put his boot in the way.

“We can’t be done. I’m in love with
you,” he said quietly.

Dammit. Those words caused my anger to
desert me, and tears immediately filled my eyes. “How can you say that to me?”
I whispered hoarsely. “You basically force me to tell you some really
unpleasant shit and then hours later you can’t look at me? That’s not love,
Cole,” I said as I shook my head.

His eyes softened as he looked at my
now tear-streaked face.

“No one has ever loved anyone as much
as I love you,” he said, undeterred by my comment. “I admit, I let that shit
fester. The fact that fucker ever laid a hand on you is eating me up inside.
The fact that he grabbed you right from under my fucking nose combined with
everything you told me yesterday is really fucking hard for me to swallow, I
admit. But I should have just let it out. I was trying to protect you by
holding it in, that was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

I simply stared at him, not allowing
my reaction to his words show.

He blew out a breath. “Baby, there’s
no one else in this world I’d rather look at than you. You are the most
beautiful thing in my world whether you’re all done up to hit the town or as
you are now, tearful and exhausted. In that moment, I just couldn’t see past my
own shit,” he said and paused for a minute, assessing me closely. “I can see that
you’re not ready to move past this. But I’m not leaving whether I’m in bed with
you or on the couch. We can talk more tomorrow,” he said firmly.

“Fine,” I grumbled, my shoulders
slumping. I knew he meant what he said and I just didn’t have it in me to fight
him anymore. “The couch it is.” I gestured to it. I felt exhausted by our
exchange and just wanted to be alone. I could feel my resolve wavering and that
scared me. I walked away from him, leaving the door open behind me and heard
him follow me inside. I clicked the TV off, and without a look back I went into
Connie’s guest room and shut the door.

I curled back up into my now familiar
ball. I tried so hard to stifle the sobs that inevitably started. With
everything that had happened the last few days and how little sleep I’d been
getting, I was utterly unable to keep my emotion in check. When I heard the
door open I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Scoot over, baby,” his deep voice
ordered softly.

“No,” I choked.

“Not
gonna
lay out there and listen to you in here
cryin
’ and
not do anything about it. Scoot,” he said again, bending down to gently shift
me over. He crawled in behind me and pulled my body to his so that we were
spooning.

I hated how amazing it felt to have
his strong arms wrapped around me-- hated how much I needed him, how much I
loved him. I wanted to force him away from me or to remain stiff in his arms,
but I simply couldn’t fight it.

“Love you, baby,” he whispered, his
mouth at my ear. “I’m sorry.” He squeezed me tighter.

I merely hiccupped as my tears
subsided and I started to drift off.

When I woke, I realized that Cole was
still beside me and I could tell from his breathing that he was awake. Great. I
was facing away from him and I stared at the wall trying to collect myself.

“How long do you want to pretend you’re
sleepin
’?” his deep voice rumbled.

Dammit.

“A little bit longer,” I answered.

He chuckled before rolling toward me
and he pulled me back toward his body. “Baby, do you honestly think what I was
working out that night had anything to do with how I feel about you?” he asked,
his deep, sleepy voice causing an involuntary reaction between my legs.

“No,” I answered honestly. I’d had
time to think about this somewhat rationally. I knew he loved me and that he
was just lashing out, but that in itself was part of the problem. “But I do
think that if you can’t work shit out with me then we don’t have much to work
with,” I answered quietly. “Leaving the house like everything’s fine and then
not even calling, just disappearing into a whiskey bottle and lashing out at
me…I’m not going to put up with that shit, Cole.”

“I know,” he answered without
hesitation.

“I still need some time,” I whispered.

“Can’t give you that,” he answered
immediately.

“Why the hell not?” I demanded.

“Waited thirty years for you. I’m done
waiting,” he whispered, his breath warm on my ear, making me shiver. “Baby, I’m
going to act like a jackass sometimes. We’re still getting to know each other. And
neither one of us has had a healthy relationship to learn from before. But
we’re going to learn how to do this together. So no, I can’t give you space.
What I can give you is a promise that I will try my damnedest not to hurt you
and to handle you with care. I’ll protect you with everything I’ve got, and I’m
not going to hold back who I am – not even if it might protect you in the
short term. Because in the long term, it’ll break us down,” he said
emphatically. “That’s what happened the other night and I learned from it. I
need to find a balance between not scaring the shit out of you but also not
burying shit so deep that it festers,” he mused. “It’s just not something I’ve
ever had to consider before.”

“What were you holding back?” I asked
turning to face him, his blue eyed gaze mere inches from mine.

He sighed. “I’d already had a fairly
loose hold of my temper since this whole bullshit started, but when you told me
about what those fuckers did to you and what they tried to do...”he trailed off
as his jaw got tight. “I had to bottle that shit so tight, I’ve never felt
anything like it,” he explained.

I nodded, biting my lip and looking away.

“Hey,” he said quietly, tilting my
chin back toward him. “I’m glad you told me. I
needed
for you to tell me. I don’t ever want you to keep shit like
that from me,” he told me vehemently.