She pushed his arm out of the way and ran, deviating from the path to run across the well-manicured lawn to the front of the house.
She tore down the driveway and ran until she found James waiting patiently in the Mercedes. Tearing the front door of the car open, she dove into the front seat. “Please take me home,” she choked out, tears clogging her throat and making her voice raspy. “Please.”
“Ms. Kara. Are you all right?” She couldn’t see his face in the dark, but the concern in the driver’s voice was evident.
“I’m not feeling well. I need to go home,” she stated, not able to keep a pleading note from her request.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes. Take me home. I’ll be fine.”
She wouldn’t be fine. Not now. Not tomorrow. Probably not for a very long time. But she didn’t tell him that.
James, bless him, didn’t ask any more questions. He started the vehicle and headed directly toward the condo.
Kara knotted her shaking hands around the soles of the shoes in her lap, trying not to let the tears flooding her eyes to fall. She couldn’t cry. There wasn’t anything to really cry about. The Hudson men were just doing what they normally did. She was the one with the problem.
Somehow, she had done an incredibly foolish thing. She had allowed herself to fall in love with Simon Hudson. Deeply, passionately, completely in love. It wasn’t like the love she had harbored for her ex. This was a confusing, soul-shredding, rip-your-guts out love that was going to hurt. Big time.
Swallowing down a bitter sob by biting her lip until it bled, she turned her head to the right, watching the city fly by as James drove her competently toward home.
You’ve gotten through loss before, Kara. You’ll get through this.
Since the death of her parents, she had used encouraging words, pep talks, to get herself through her toughest battles. They had always worked before. Hadn’t she made it this far?
You’ll forget him. It will just take time.
An uncomfortable weight settled on her chest, hard, heavy and totally crushing.
For the first time in her life, Kara Foster felt like she was lying to herself.
*****
“Kara!” Simon bellowed loudly as he slammed the door of his condo behind him, tossing his keys carelessly on the kitchen counter.
There was a small, neatly wrapped present on the counter with a card, but he ignored it and raced through the condo like a man possessed.
“Kara!”
He yelled her name until he was hoarse, but every single room was empty. Her room looked basically untouched, except that her backpack was missing.
“Shit!”
He went to kitchen and lifted the gaily wrapped package, finding a personal check from Kara in the amount of ninety thousand dollars and a single sheet of paper under the card and gift.
I’ll repay the rest as soon as I get a job. I left all of the things you gave me except for a few pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts. Thanks for everything. I’ll always be grateful.
Kara
What. The. Fuck. He didn’t want her damn gratitude. He wanted…her.
He crumpled the paper in a tight fist, his knuckles white from the effort.
She had left him?
No explanation.
No goodbye.
Just…gone.
He scooped up the gift and the sealed card, carrying them both to the living room while he poured himself a stiff drink. After knocking back a whiskey in one gulp, he poured himself another and dropped into a leather chair, setting the drink on the coffee table beside him.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing he could get a do-over on the evening, starting with the part where he and Kara had left the condo for the party. If he could have a do-over, they would never have left the condo.
He had nearly killed his own brother tonight, had happily beat the shit out of him after he had found out that Sam had hit on Kara. It hadn’t been hard to figure out. Kara had been missing and Sam had a tell-tale handprint on his face, an obvious souvenir from a pissed-off female. Furthermore, Sam had led Kara to believe that Simon wouldn’t mind if Sam fucked his woman.
Granted, Sam had been two sheets to the wind, but Simon had been so out of control when his brother had made his drunken confessions that he didn’t care. He had pounded his brother into the ground, stopping only when his mother got between the two of them.
It was the only physical fight that he and his brother had ever had. Sam had never laid a finger on him, and Simon would have never imagined punching his brother. Until tonight. Until Kara. The thought of any other man touching Kara made Simon completely insane.
It hadn’t made Simon feel any better to know that Kara had rebuffed Sam, bitch slapping him hard enough to leave a mark. She had probably been scared, confused. And she had left him. It made him want to lay into his stupid-ass brother all over again.