While Jericho used me, he also gave me this job and loved Dare like a brother. I didn’t hate him. I would never hate Dare no matter how he’d shattered my heart. My stubborn love wouldn’t allow hate, and I’d even resigned myself to living with only part of my heart.
Pain ricocheted through me, randomly lighting up memories, intensifying my hopelessness.
A gasping sob escaped, and I shoved those tears back. Time to stop that shit.
I stared at my phone. Part of me thought of hateful words to tap out, but really why bother. Why pretend a hate I couldn’t embrace?
In the end I texted: I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Thanks.
The words of a vicious bitch—not. Maybe in my next life.
I used the computer to search for a new life. I’d decided on a city—Dallas/Fort Worth to be exact. I wanted to be lost among millions. Apartment hunting filled my hours, since this time I wasn’t leaving penniless.
I also started dismantling my life here. Dinner with Avery and Glory hurt us all, but they understood my decision. I picked up boxes at the supermarket and started packing. Rachel swung by and helped me pack, bitching about bikers the entire time.
In eight months I’d changed so much, and yet I found myself without a home, again. Dare had been right about one thing—I’d burned bright here. Now I was leaving sooner than I ever expected.
Tired and drained, I’d shooed Rachel out by nine and fallen asleep in minutes. A loud pounding woke me in the middle of the night. I sat up and turned on my lamp. Dare’s voice shouted through my closed door and his fists, most likely, rattled it.
And the freak show never stops.
I blew out a breath, steeling myself for the scene to come—not that I knew why he’d come. I opened the door to an incredibly drunk Dare weaving on his feet in front of me.
“Red, I need you.” His words slurred together.
I wished to be anywhere but here. His stark face was as beautiful as the first day I’d almost drooled over him in Marked Man.
I considered closing the door on his drunk ass, but then he’d be driving again. One day he might kill himself, but I wouldn’t send him out to drive when he had no business on the road.
I stood back and he stumbled inside and collapsed in the chair. He shut his eyes and laid his head back. I trudged to the kitchen and fixed him two sandwiches, hoping to soak up some of the alcohol. I grabbed more pain reliever and two bottles of water. This was the last time I could help him.
“Gotta talk to you.” He spoke slowly, his head weaving, like it was too heavy for him to hold up.
“We’ll talk after you eat and drink all of this.” I handed him the two PB and J sandwiches and a bottle of water.
He closed one eye and stared at me. I suppose he saw double. “Eat the food. I’ll be back.” I hurried to the bathroom and locked myself in. I stared at my reflection, wondering how to survive this.
You can do it. Say goodbye to your heart and tuck him in one last time. A few days and I’ll only have memories. One last glimpse and one more time to be there for him. Yeah, I could do it.
I splashed cold water on my face, thinking I sucked at pep talks. The only way through was forward, so I’d push through tonight and soon I’d be safe, far away from the man I loved.
I walked toward him, hoping he’d passed out. Instead he appeared more alert.
“Did you mean it?” His words were crisper now.
“Yeah, I’m leaving. See the boxes full of my stuff?”
“No. You said you...loved me.” He stared down.
Son of a bitch. I’d hoped it had sailed over his head during my tirade, but no such luck. I debated what to do.
Do I tell him the truth? Sure, nothing to lose.
My love meant less than nothing because he didn’t love me.
“Yeah, I did, or do, love you. But it doesn’t matter, I’m going.” The words drained my energy and I sunk into the couch.
“I fucked us up so badly. Sorry, done it all wrong.” He still didn’t meet my stare.
“Apology accepted.”
“It’s my fault...no good. If you knew me, my secrets, you couldn’t love me.” I barely heard the words.
I stayed silent.
What to say? He had to believe in us, and if he didn’t I’d never convince him.
He glanced up but quickly covered his face.
“I got to tell you about my past. If you can still love me...then I want to love you too.”
Joy surged through me. He loved me. I knew without a doubt nothing he told me would change my feelings for him. If it were possible, I’d have killed my feelings long ago.
Not so fast, stupid. My brain shouted the words. Never again.
My elation died a quick death.
“Stop.” I held up my hand. “You talk to me sober, or don’t talk to me at all. I don’t need half-remembered, drunken confessions.”