His Adam’s apple bobbed and he nodded. “I know. It's done. I quit, and we'll be moving down here. I packed all our stuff.”
“You what?” I stood. I didn’t know much about Dennis, but I knew he couldn’t just stop working for him.
“There’s no other way out of it. I can’t stay in Chicago.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Our home is there. My job is there. My life.”
“I’m sorry. If I go back, Dennis will have me killed.” Julian stood. “There’s no other way.”
I ran a nervous hand through my hair. “What are we supposed to do here for work? There has to be something you can do. You can’t just pick up and leave everything behind.”
Julian narrowed his eyes. “This is what needs to be done. I’ve done a lot in the past for Dennis that can incriminate him. He’ll want me dead if I go back.” The apologetic tone had vanished.
Shaking my head, I covered my face. “What…Why…God! Why did you work for a monster?”
Nate cleared his throat. “I told Julian I’d talk to some people, get him an interview.”
“And you two are more than welcome to stay in the apartment for as long as you want.” Delaney smiled brightly at me.
No, it couldn't be the four of us all over again. “I don’t want to be your charity case.” I stood and shook my head. “I’m sorry, but no.”
“You’re not charity.” Delaney walked over and grabbed my hand. “You’re family, and we’d be honored to have you both here.”
I glanced at Julian, and a smile overtook his features. My gaze turned to Nate, and I regretted it instantly. His eyes were bright, the perfect shade of green, and the way he looked at me . . . I’d seen that look many times before. I couldn’t be in the same place he was. He had an uncontrollable power over me. Only he could ignite the fire that burned deep inside me. A fire that I tried to put out a long time ago and never could. It was only a matter of time before history repeated itself.
“Fine.”
Julian pulled me into his arms. “It’s settled, then.”
If it was too good to be true, it was most likely bullshit. Julian was the doting, loving husband for one solid week. Six days to be exact. We had six days that I felt a weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe.
Dennis was behind us. Julian assured me there was no way he’d ever find us, and I believed him. He seemed to be getting along great with Nate, and promised we would only stay with Nate and Delaney for a few weeks until we found a place of our own.
But I quickly realized it was all a load of crap.
After our decision to stay in Charlotte, I found a job at a local diner. I had no experience and no degree, so my choices for quick employment were slim. Julian went on three interviews, but didn’t receive any call backs. Every morning, he went with Nate to search for potential job offerings. I still had hope he would find something soon and we would get our own place, but until then I worked every shift the diner had to offer.
It was Sunday afternoon, and I’d just finished the graveyard shift at the diner, along with an additional morning shift for a co-worker who called in sick. My body ached from the long hours I’d spent on my feet, I had a pounding headache, and the odor of burnt coffee followed me like a cloud of smoke.
I dragged my body up the garage steps as I mentally assured myself I was inching closer to my bed. I was surprised to find the door ajar, and when I pushed it open, Julian was standing with his back to me, hunched over at the kitchen counter.
“Hey,” I said. I craved a long shower and sleep. He didn’t utter a word so I stepped closer. “Julian?” I rested a hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed under my touch. “Hey, what's the matter?”
“You have the nerve to ask?” He dragged his words out in a slow slur.
“I have no clue what you're talking about.”
With a sharp turn he spun around, and the back of his hand collided with my face. “You came here!” he barked, and I smelled the bourbon on his breath. I couldn’t speak. Sharp pain caused my skin to burn. “We were happy in Chicago. I was somebody there. I had respect. Here, I’m a fucking nobody.”
The metallic tinge lingered in my mouth. The motherfucker had drawn blood. Anger boiled deep inside me. He would never fucking change.
“Goddamn it.” My finger dabbed at the cut on my lower lip. My cheeks burned, but by now I was used to the pain. It was sad to believe that it didn't hurt as bad as it once did, but if you became their punching bag, eventually you became numb to the pain.
I was pathetic.