Forever, Jack (7 page)

My throat felt thick.

He swallowed. “And I didn’t
fuck
you. Believe me, I’ve done enough
fucking
…”

I flinched.

“… to know the difference.”

I licked my lips, trying to find moisture.

His eyes dropped down.

My back was against the counter, I had nowhere to step back to. My mind failed to remember what I wanted to say to him. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing you. Did you manage to remember that you ‘
loved’
me,” I made air quotes, “while you were cavorting around England with every girl who crossed your path? Did you think I wouldn’t see that, or didn’t you care if I did?”

“That’s not what it—”

“I mean who
are
you right now, Jack?” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. “Are you the actor who’s playing the part of the good guy? Are you trying to do the right thing
now
? Because I don’t need it. I don’t need you.” I took a deep breath and tilted my chin up, staring him in the eyes, ignoring how upset he looked, with his jaw tight, his shoulders rigid, and his bottom lip white as he worked it repeatedly with his teeth. “I may want you,” I said, emphasizing the word and pausing. It was a word he’d used with me, a word that had ultimately led me to kiss him. But a word that should simply mean an attraction and nothing else, that shouldn’t have led to anything else. “I may
want
you and be attracted to you, but I don’t
need
you—”

“Let’s work with that. You ‘want’ me. That’s a good start. We can’t go back, so let’s start again. Just give us a place to start. Give me a place to start.”

I held onto his upper arms, feeling their heat, their strength, rock hard under my fingers, and I drew on that strength to do what needed to be done. “It’s not a start, Jack. It’s what got this all so messed up in the first place. I’m attracted to you, sure. So is probably everyone you’ve ever met. It’s how you’re made. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“That’s not all you think of me. I know it isn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter if I have real feelings or not—”

“It does. It means everything.”

“No. It. Doesn’t.” I cast my eyes away from his and his arms tensed under my hands. I couldn’t look at him while I said this. “Since it turns out I didn’t really know you at all, I’m going to assume I was just like every other girl who’s ever fallen into your bed. Maybe it was the
idea
of you. The part you played with me. The Jack I knew then wouldn’t have deliberately hurt me … maybe I never felt real things for
you
. How could I when I’m not sure who you are?”

I looked back up at him and faltered a moment at his expression. Even the flush on his cheekbones had leeched away. Complete and utter devastation. I’d thought for a second that he wouldn’t believe me.
I
barely believed me. That was a seriously low blow and not like me.

Oh God.

“You do know me,” Jack said, his voice rough. “You know me better than anyone on this planet. And I pegged you for more honesty than that. I
know
you felt something real, not based on the illusion of Jack Eversea. I can see it. I can feel it. It is real. The only real fucking thing
I’ve
felt in forever.”

“Stop it, Jack.” I winced, resisting his words as best I could. “It doesn’t matter. How I feel about you isn’t even up for discussion. It’s irrelevant because I already know where this ends. I’ve been there.”

I knew I couldn’t have Jack in moderation. I wasn’t capable of it. I’d opened my whole heart to him already, and it had ended in a nightmare. All I could do now was put the deadbolt on, close the shades, and pray for daylight.

“I understand why you’re saying this, but you’re wrong,” he implored. “Shit. I did this all wrong. I’m pushing you. I went too fast. I’m sorry. I just needed to see you again, tell you what happened, not freak you out.”

“Jack. I’m not an idiot. Whether you push me or not still leads to the same place. Fast or slow, I’m not going there. And I thought it would matter to me to know what happened, but I don’t think it will make any difference.”

“I should have told you before how I felt.”

“God, Jack. What you should have done
if
you really felt the way you say you do, was not leave the way you did and not contact me for over half a year. What? Did you expect me to wait around pining after you? Well, I did. Does that make you happy? Make you feel more appreciated? Do you not get enough love from your adoring fans? I
was
devastated. But I’m moving on now. Or trying to. And I will as soon as you leave.”

I breathed through the crushing pressure that suddenly sprang up in my chest and gripped his arms tighter to stop the shaking in my hands. I needed to finish this, give him no way out. I couldn’t go back now. I’d only be here again the next time. “If there’s any truth to what you are saying about being in love with me—”

“No,” Jack said desperately, his green eyes flaring. “Don’t say it, Keri Ann. I know what you’re going to ask of me. Please … don’t do it.”

“If you truly love me, then you’ll respect my request … and
walk away
from this. Leave. Me. Alone.”

When I was nine, Alex O’Rourke hit a six in cricket that nailed me right in the chest. It was a hell of a shot, and he made the Second Eleven’s team for it, even though he was only on the Under-Nine’s
up until then. I was out for the count and flat on my back. There was no air, no oxygen, and no capacity to get some. I lay on the field presumably turning blue before the umpire made it over to me.

The evidence of the hit was a smear on my Aran v-neck from the red leather cricket ball right above my solar plexus.

The bright blue and cloudless British sky above me darkened around the edges and narrowed to a pinprick as my starved lungs communicated frantically, and in vain, with my brain. That tiny spot of light was the last thing I remembered until I woke up in hospital while they were x-raying my chest.

Standing in front of Keri Ann, as she closes the door on our relationship feels like that day. I know I need to keep breathing in and out. And I know I should say something, anything, to stop her, but my brain doesn’t know how.

I’ve said too much, anyway. And I haven’t told her enough.

I’ve fucked up.

I need to keep it together. I don’t want to beg and plead, but I’m already dangerously close to doing that.

Seconds drag by as I watch Keri Ann’s face deliver those words to me. Words that strike me where my deepest fears and insecurities lie.

I’m winded. My lungs, my mind, my tongue won’t cooperate. My entire body has betrayed me. If my mind was fully functional right now, and not in catatonic shock, if it was able to bark out an order for me to walk, walk to her and wrap my arms around her small frame, or even to walk out, I’m not sure my legs would get the message.

The only thing I
can
feel is a clawing, dark nothingness moving like sludge through my veins—taking over. It’s seeping dead emptiness through every inch of me, shutting me down in increments, until I can’t even see in front of me.

Finally, a synapse must make a last ditch attempt to fire and rescue me because I find myself turning away. Able to move.

I don’t even remember getting back to Devon’s, which is a miracle in and of itself because it’s so fucking dark here.

Because of the sea turtles.

I enter the house and sag against the wall. The memories of Keri Ann hit me like an avalanche. All the feelings that have been quiet and dead for the last twenty minutes switch back on at full volume.

I put my hand out on the same wall that I had her pressed up against right before I’d carried her upstairs seven months ago. A swift kick in the libido comes along with the memory I seriously don’t need right now.
Damn, this is bad.

I remember looking in her eyes and seeing the emotion there, feeling it in return so strong the reality was, she was holding
me
up as much as I was her.

I know she’s lying.

Please
let her be lying.

I swallow over a throat that feels like it will never close.

The thing about pain, whether physical or emotional, is there’s no running away. You can’t escape it and you can’t hide from it. Not by ignoring it, not by drugging it, not by doing a swan dive into a bottle. Sooner or later you’ll have to take a breath, let the pain rush in and get to the other side like your life depends on it. Because it does.

I know this, I’ve been through versions of pain many times. And yet, it doesn’t stop me from trying all three remedies in quick succession.

I grit my teeth and will my mind to shut down as I push off the wall and stalk into the kitchen, heading for the cabinet that houses the liquor. I can compartmentalize well, but this time it’s like trying to shove the Michelin man into a tiny ring box.

Sloshing several fingers of Blue Label into a glass, damn Devon’s getting fancy in his old age, I head straight for the stairs. In my room, I grab an Ambien and knock it back with the scotch. Dumb, I know, but I would like to be in complete oblivion just for a little while. And I haven’t slept well for weeks.

I stare at the bed in Devon’s guest room.

Visions of the last time I slept here with Keri Ann, naked, and spread out beneath me, and so Goddamn sweet and beautiful, clang down in rapid fire one after the other, and I back out.

Making it back downstairs, I top up my drink and head to the couch.

I want to make the selfish choice and just go all out to get her back. It’s a physical struggle to not turn around and go back and grab her and kiss her and love her and keep talking until she understands. Like I can force her to hear me or force her to love me.

What was I thinking? I’ve made so many mistakes, but it seems I just keep making them. Why did I tell her how I felt? Of course she wouldn’t believe me. Just hearing her reaction made me realize how dumb it was. And she was right. Part of me did think I could use that to my advantage.

My arrogance
.

She’d called me on my arrogance once, and I’d denied it and claimed confidence instead. But she was right. It was my arrogant streak that believed telling her I loved her would buy me some time.

Without working too hard, I’d gotten what I wanted from women all my adult life. I traded on my looks and my celebrity and got laid when I felt like it. Even with Audrey, if I was honest. That was the normal course of events. But of course, there’s nothing
normal
about Keri Ann Butler.

I’ve been convincing myself I did the right thing, handled Audrey the right way by throwing the world off the trail and staying away from here until the dust settled after
Erath
.

Why didn’t I tell Keri Ann five months ago what was going on, back when I almost came back? I know the truth of it. I was a coward. I’d already seen her disappointment in me, and I didn’t want to own up to what I’d done to Audrey and … I didn’t want to hear that Keri Ann didn’t want me.

As I stare up at the white ceiling and wait for the sleeping pill to work its magic, I think about how I got to this moment. I knew after I left here five months ago I was dragging my feet. The longer I stayed away, the harder it was to come back because at the very heart of it, I
knew
this would happen. Why wouldn’t it? The exact reason most women run toward me is the exact reason Keri Ann always stepped away.

I take one more deep sip of Scotch, feeling the heat unfurl in my throat and spread through my chest, warming the cold, deep ache of emptiness and soothing the serrated aftermath of Keri Ann’s massacre of my heart. Then I close my eyes.