Love, Unwanted (Discovering Love #3) (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

Who Knew?

I’m dragging when I climb out of the back of the cab three days later. Today the local school took a field trip to the library and I’ve been chasing little kids around all day in heels. My feet are killing me, I’m exhausted, and after staying extremely late to clean up after I closed, all I want to do is take a hot bath and climb into bed.

After the day in the park with Violet, I stopped receiving flowers and basically any other contact from Phoenix. The thought of him giving up makes my heart squeeze even though it’s what I thought I wanted.

I pay the cabbie and trek up my walkway, only to stop and jump back while the breath catches in my lungs when I see someone sitting on my front porch. It’s dark, so I have no way of identifying who the person is. He’s sitting on my stairs and his head is down, so I continue to walk backwards while my eyes bounce from the stranger to my surroundings, looking to see if I can call to anyone for help.

My breath catches for a whole other reason when the mystery person finally does lift his head and I see who it is.

“What are you doing here?” I growl when I can slow my thoughts down long enough to formulate a sentence. I actually didn’t mean for it to come out as harshly, but I can’t bring myself to regret it nor change my tone.

Phoenix doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he stands up and takes his time walking toward me. Even though part of me wants him near me, has been craving to have him near me, I take a tiny step back with each step he takes forward.

I thought my steps were tiny enough that he wouldn’t notice, but I should have known better. Phoenix notices everything. He pauses in his steps to look me in the eyes and raise an eyebrow at me. I raise my nose in a silent, defiant, ‘fuck you,’ but this doesn’t do anything to stop his mission. He just shakes his head and takes three more steps forward.

“Why are you here?” I ask again, this time a little louder. My patience has run out with this little dance and it pisses me off that he even thinks he has the bloody right to be here in the first place.

His face changes from almost somber to irritation at my attitude. “I came here to talk to you. You know, something I’ve been trying to do for almost two weeks now.”

“Yeah, well, sorry. I thought you said and did all you needed to say that night at the pub. That was about all I could see or hear.” I don’t want to appear weak, and I swear I tried to keep my emotions in check while talking, but despite myself, my voice cracked at the end of my sentence.

Please, don’t let him have heard it.
By the way his face changes from irritation to pure sadness, I know he heard me. Maybe his expression isn’t one of sadness. Maybe it’s pity, and that’s so much worse. “Birdie…”

Birdie.

Birdie.

How can one nickname cause so much heartache? How come the almost broken way he whispers it into the night makes me want to just stop fighting and cry?

I want this pain to stop. I want to turn back the hands of time and stop at the night Phoenix walked into that closet at the pub. I want all of the memories, kisses, and moments I once held so dear to be erased.

I know, though, that it doesn’t matter how badly I want that, how badly I
need
that. It’s not going to happen. I have to live with this hole inside my heart. I can’t change that, but what I can do is walk away with what’s left. I need this man, the one I love so hopelessly, the one that’s standing in front of me, to leave.

“You need to leave,” I say abruptly, cutting his next words off. When he shakes his head, silently telling me that he’s not going anywhere, and then opens his mouth to say more, I hold up my hand. “Now. You need to leave now.”

I go to step around him and make a break for my front door, but before I can get all the way past him, he grabs my arm and halts me. “Please, just let me explain.”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations!” I yell in his face. I no longer care about keeping my emotions or tears in check; I let them fall freely. “I don’t want to hear your reasons for doing this to me, for causing me so much pain. I just want it to stop. You need to leave.”

I cry and yank my arm from his grasp. Then I walk as fast as I can to my porch and up the stairs.

I’m on the third and last step, so close to the front door and my escape, when he says it. “You said you loved me!” My body freezes. I don’t even think I breathe while his statement runs on a loop in my mind.

You said you loved me.

You said you loved me.

I comb through my memories, trying to figure out when I said those words to him. I know I said them one thousand times in my mind, but I’ve never uttered them out loud.

I turn around slowly and look at him. “What?” I whisper.

“You said you loved me. That night after we made love, before you were fully asleep, you whispered that you loved me.”

How could I have been so stupid?
I never meant for those words to be spoken so soon. I didn’t want him to know my true feelings for him. Because I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut, I lost him? Learning that makes this whole thing even worse.

I no longer have to flip back and forth between blaming Phoenix for making me fall for him and wondering if I built us up in my head. It’s clear now. Brutally. Like a big neon sign blaring right in front that reads
It was all your fault!

I love him. Since when is that such a crime? I deserved all of this because I dared to love him? I refuse to accept that. “You did everything you did because I said I loved you?” I ask slowly, completely dumbfounded by the thought.

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head and takes a few steps toward me. “My dad, he loved my mom so much. She was his world. He’d do anything for her. When she died, it nearly destroyed him. He didn’t live anymore. He just existed, spending all his time drinking away his pain and doing anything he could to not think of her. That’s what my life was. Watching my dad, a man who, in the beginning of my life was my hero, fade away to nothing, and I thought that’s what love does to you. It takes a strong person and destroys them. I promised myself at thirteen that I would never become my father. I would never fall in love, and I have stuck to it.”

My heart breaks for the young Phoenix and his father. I can’t imagine the pain he must have felt from not only losing a mom but, in many ways, losing his dad too.

I can’t deny, though, that the last complete piece of my heart just shattered. I know why he told me this story. It’s not that he doesn’t want to love me; it’s that he can’t. If only I had known sooner. He made himself a promise and he stuck to it.

I know the truth now. I know he doesn’t feel for me the way I feel for him, but I also know that my spirit, my soul, and my heart can’t hear anymore. Screw the bath and screw climbing into bed. I want to disappear.

“I get it,” I finally manage. “And I’m sorry about your mom and your dad. I even understand why you feel and think the way you do. I wish I could sit here and say that hearing all of that and knowing you don’t feel the same way changes the way I feel, but it doesn’t. I’m sorry, Phoenix, but I don’t regret telling you I love you, even if I was half asleep when I did, because I fully meant it.”

I’m not going to wait for him to respond to that. I just want this night to end. I turn back toward my front door while digging through my purse for my keys.

“Baby, you don’t understand what I’m trying to say—”

“Phoenix, honestly, I can’t hear anymore. I’m tired. I’m so bloody tired,” I say, my voice devoid of emotion. I could cry with relief when I locate my keys. “I’ll see you around,” I say with finality in my tone.

“Caroline! Just listen to me. I care about you! I—”

I care about you.

I care about you.

Who knew words meant to cause comfort could cause such sting? Caring about someone is far from love.
I need to get off this porch.
My eyes bite with unshed tears. I’ve humiliated myself enough tonight. I don’t want to let him see another tear fall for him, which is why I cut him off. “Goodnight, Phoenix.”

I slip inside my front door and hurry to close it to the sounds of Phoenix pleading with me to let him finish what he has to say.

The door is barely closed before I let the water fall from my eyes. I jump when I hear him bang on my door. “Open up the door, Caroline!” His voice just makes the tears fall harder. All I was trying to hold back comes pouring out in this moment.

I ignore his demands. My back goes to the front door and I slide down until my bum hits the floor. I bury my face in my hands while I ugly cry. I know it’s over. Over the past two weeks, all I could do was wonder if I would ever get an explanation for all of this. Now, I have one and it’s caused way more agony than closure.

“Open the fucking door! Please!” I shake my head as if he could see me and remain seated. I’m not trying to be bitchy, but I can’t handle hearing any more of what he has to say.

I’m not sure how long he stands out there yelling, begging, and pleading for me to answer the door, but eventually he gives in. Not for good, though. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone for tonight, but this isn’t over, baby. I’m not giving up on us.”

I’m not giving up on us.

I’m not giving up on us.

What doesn’t he understand? There is no us. There never was. I was just a dreamer who had an unpleasant head-on collision with reality. The tears don’t stop coming for the longest time no matter how hard I try to shut them off.

By the time I climb up from my spot on the floor, he’s long gone. I check my peephole and see that the porch is, in fact, empty. My head is pounding and my whole body aches from the sobs that wracked through me.

Even still, I walk to Bubbles’s tank and sprinkle her food in before heading to the bathroom. I look at my reflection in the mirror over the sink as I strip my clothes off.

I don’t even recognize the unhappy woman in the mirror. My eyes are puffy, but I can still see the large circles underneath them from the lack of sleep. My appetite is nonexistent, so my collarbone and hip bones are more prominent.

I may have not been the most outgoing woman a few months ago. I may have stuck to myself and my best friend was a fish. I craved love and adventure, but at least I was somewhat happy.

I miss that girl. I’d do anything to be that girl, almost as much as I would do to make Phoenix love me like I love him.

You said you loved me.

I care about you.

The whole night plays on repeat in a torturous loop as I climb in the shower and let the hot water beat on my back. I go through the motion of first washing my hair and then washing my body before climbing back out.

I don’t have the energy to put on lotion or even get dressed in my pajamas. I grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around my body. I don’t turn on any light on my way down the hall to my room. I still don’t when I reach my room.

I walk to my bed and immediately climb in. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, and my body is exhausted, but as tired as I am, no matter how much I need it, sleep never comes.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Women’s Intuition

I smile with relief as the last person leaves the library. Then I lock the door. I love this place and my job, but lately all I want to do is be home, in my bed, reading. Or just basically doing anything to get my mind off of Phoenix. No surprise it hasn’t worked.

I haven’t talked to him since that night a week ago. He’s called, but I haven’t answered. What would I say? Everything that needed to be said has been said. Right now it’s best that I try to move on and I can’t do that if I’m around him or if I talk to him.

All of the anger I felt for him has vanished. How can you be mad at someone for how they feel? If I’ve learned anything these past few weeks, it’s that humans have no control over that. We have no choice in who we fall in love with or who we choose not to love. If we did, I would have chosen to stop loving him long ago.

He doesn’t love me; he cares about me. Who knew hearing someone cares about you would hurt this much? No matter how painful it is, I have to accept it.

I do my usual routine of straightening the bookshelves and placing a few more book orders before grabbing my bag and closing the library for the night.

As soon as I step outside, a feeling of awareness overcomes me. It isn’t a good feeling. It’s a downright creepy one. I closed down later tonight and when I stepped outside, I decided to walk home because it was such a warm night.

That’s a decision I currently regret. I shake the feeling and start walking to my house. I keep waiting for the sensation to subside, but with each step, it only gets stronger.

As soon as I step off the busy street and start walking in a quiet neighborhood with not half as much lighting, the hair on my arms stands up. My quick walking is just shy of a full sprint.

“You’re paranoid, Caroline. It’s all in your head,” I mumble to myself. No sooner do the words leave my mouth than I hear an engine rev behind me. I’m surprised I hear it over the sound of my racing heart.

I try to convince myself I’m going crazy due to lack of sleep, but when the vehicle fails to pass me, I start to believe it’s not all in my head. I turn my head and look out my peripheral vision to see an old white van slowly creeping behind me.

At this point, I want to scream and run, but I’m trying to remain as calm as possible. I’m only three blocks from my home. If I can just make it to my street, I could relax a little more.

I walk one more block and the van slowly skulks to where it’s no longer a short way behind me, but now right next to me. Fresh, hot tears are starting to burn my eyes, but I beat them back.

I’ve watched hundreds of shows where people find themselves in situations similar to this, and the one thing they always say to do is remain calm. So, instead of completely losing my bloody mind, I reach into my messenger bag and pull out my phone.

My first instinct is to call Phoenix, but I stop myself before I can get his whole number dialed and instead call up Violet.

“Hello?” she answers.

“Violet,” I whisper in a frenzy.

“Caroline? What’s wrong?” I can hear the concern in her voice.

“I’m walking home and this white van is following me. I just need you to talk to me until I can make it home. I’m not far.”

“Honey, are you sure you’re okay? Where are you? I can come get you.” Right as the words leave her mouth, the van picks up speed and zooms past me, disappearing into the night.

I let out a long, relieved breath and place my hand on my chest to steady my pounding heart. “He passed,” I say before giggling to myself.
Way to overreact, Caroline.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I obviously overreacted and let my mind get the best of me.” I laugh it off.

We continue to talk for a little while longer, but the whole time I can’t shake the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve heard about this kind of feeling—women’s intuition.

I’ve heard about it, but never experienced it. That’s probably why I chose to ignore it. If only I wouldn’t have. This night would have probably ended differently if I had just agreed to let Violet come get me and take me home or called a cab instead of walking home after work.

There are so many things I should have done differently, but you can’t predict the future. You never know what’s going to happen. No next moment is guaranteed, and in one instant, everything you know can change and everything you have can be ripped away from you.

I’m about to say goodbye to Violet when I hear screeching tires scream in my ears. I jump back when the same van from earlier comes to a shrieking halt on the sidewalk, just barely missing me.

A scream rips from inside me when the side door on the van slides open and a hooded person climbs out. I can hear Violet yelling through the phone, asking me what’s wrong, but I can’t focus on answering her at the moment.

Whoever this person is doesn’t rush me when he jumps out of the van. Instead, he slowly, meticulously stalks toward me. I back up as far as I can, but my back ends up hitting a tree.

“Wh—what do you want?”

I receive no answer. Instead, he remains quiet and slowly tilts his head. He looks like he’s studying my face. I know what he sees. Fear. Paralyzing fear.

In my mind, all I can do is pray that, by some miracle, whatever he’s about to do to me he won’t. He’ll just turn and walk away, but my hopes are shot when I see him lift his arm in the air, a crowbar in his hand.

I can only whisper, “No.”

Then he whacks me and everything goes black.

***

The pounding in my head wakes me. It only takes a moment for me to remember what happened. I begin to panic after I feel the cut on my forehead. I want to cry, but I know this isn’t the time. I’ll break down later, after I get out of this situation.

I need to get out of here and away from these people. The only way that’s going to happen is if I stay level-headed. I sit up slowly, but the room begins to spin and bile climbs up my throat. I’ve never felt pain like this before in my life.

I beat it back and look around. Nothing. I see nothing. I’m lying on the world’s most uncomfortable mattress known to exist. The room is nothing but darkness with not even a window to shed some light. If I squint my eyes, I can make out a white bucket up against the wall with a roll of toilet paper sitting on the floor next to it.

After fighting off another wave of nausea, I slowly stand up and tiptoe across the floor, toward the door. I know it’s locked, but I jiggle the doorknob anyway.

“I don’t understand why we had to take her. They aren’t even together anymore,” says a familiar voice from the other side of the door.
Marcy!
She did this to me? Why? I knew she was crazy, but not this bloody crazy.

My head throbs and I almost want to convince myself that I’m hearing things. I know that’s not true, though. I know who I heard. Now I need to know who she’s talking to.

“You saw how he’s been without her. It was only a matter of time before he convinced her to come back. This way he won’t have a choice.” I know that man’s voice, but for the life of me, I can’t place it.

What has my panic mounting again is the way his sentence ended—“This way he won’t have a choice.” I know who the stranger is talking about—Phoenix. But what is he going to do to me that would take away his or my choice to be together?

My silent question is answered and it sends a cold chill down my spine. “I just don’t see why we have to kill her.”
Kill me?
They want to kill me? The tears fall.

With my back against the door, I lift my knees and tuck them into my chest, then bury my face in my lap while soundless sobs wrack my body. It makes my head hurt a million times more, but I can’t stop the sobs.

“Listen, I’ve explained this already. Now isn’t the time to ask questions. We’re doing this. Then we both get what we want. Got it?”

“Fine.” Marcy rushes to agree, and it almost sounds like she has a bit of fear in her voice.

“I don’t know what you have to complain about. You’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted. Phoenix.”

“I know.” She sighs, and I swear I can hear a smile in her voice. It has my anger spiking for the first time since I woke up in this room. Phoenix may not love me, but I love him. There’s no way I will let her have him. He’s going to know just what kind of a snake she is.

“Good. Now, go make sure no one is outside. I want to get this done quickly.”

I hear her heels clicking on the floor as she walks past the door. I know I’m running out of time, and if I have even a hope of getting out of this room I need to formulate some kind of a plan of my own.

I get on my hands and knees and start crawling around on the wood floor, searching for anything to defend myself with. I don’t know who the guy is, so whatever weapon I can find I’ll use on him.

Marcy, on the other hand? I want to kick her ass. My heart stops when I hear her walk past my door again. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Good. Then let’s get this over with. I’m ready to get rid of this bitch. Go get her.” My hands grow frantic as they search the floor for any kind of object. Nothing. There is absolutely nothing in this room.

I have no choice but to move to plan B. As fast as I can manage, I move behind the door just before she opens it. Before she even has a chance to realize I’m not lying on that bed, I grab the back of the door she just opened and slam it forward, praying the door will connect with her face.

I know it was a successful move when I hear a sick crack before she wails out in pain. “What the fuck?” I jump from behind the door with my fists in front of me, ready for a fight.

If this was any other situation, I would laugh at the state Marcy is in. She’s always looked so together, perfect, and fake when I’ve had the displeasure of seeing her.

She’s covering her nose, but I can still see the blood pouring out. She looks at me and her eyes widen. “You’re crazy!” she screams. Out of everything she’s done to me, everything she’s planning to do to me, she has the nerve to call
me
crazy?

“I’m crazy? You’re trying to kill me!” Marcy is a mean girl. That was clear the instant I met her. She pauses at my words and thinks them over. Then a sadistic smile spreads across her face.

“I’m not trying to kill you, honey. I
am
going to kill you.”

I should be scared, right? I can see how hard she believes her words. I can see how determined she is to make those words come true. What I do know, though, is she doesn’t know how determined I am to stop her.

I mask my face to look like I’m nothing but bored with this situation. “You can try.” I shrug. My body tightens when she releases what can only be described as a battle cry before running at me full force.

I don’t have a chance to formulate any kind of defense against her. Before I know it, her hands are around my neck and she’s choking me and pushing me back toward the bed, where I eventually fall.

She hasn’t stopped squeezing my neck. She climbed on top of me just so she can squeeze harder. I claw at her forearms, trying anything to get her to loosen her grip so I can breathe.

Spots dance in my vision. I know I’m running out of time. I’ve heard that right before a person is about to die, their whole life flashes before their eyes. I have flashes, but it’s not my whole life that I see—it’s every moment I ever spent with Phoenix.

I see us at the castle and the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I see the way he watched me sing; how he held me every night in his arms. Even the way he was with Bubbles. It’s when I’m lost in these memories that I realize something I probably knew the whole time. Phoenix doesn’t just care about me. He loves me.

He may not even know it himself or he just may have been lying to me and to himself, but he loves me. I can feel warm tears leak from my eyes at the thought I figured this out too late. I’ll never see him again. I’ll never tell him that I love him while fully awake.

My vision is going in and out, but I fight the unconsciousness. I can’t leave now. I can’t give up. If I can just hold on a little longer, I may find a way out of this.

My chance comes when Marcy leans her head in closer to mine and hisses, “I warned you to stay away from him. He was never going to be yours. Phoenix will
always
belong to me.”

With her head so close to mine, I do the only thing I can. With all the strength I can muster, I push my head further down into the mattress before cracking my forehead as hard and as fast as I can into Marcy’s.

It works. It stuns and hurts her enough so she finally releases my neck and jumps off the bed. I gasp and pull as big a breath as I can into my lungs. Now it feels like my lungs are on fire.

She bounces back faster than I do and she’s madder than before. “You’re going to pay for that!”