My parents didnât raise me to ask to be loved.
Not by them. Not by anyone.
Love needs to be given freely.
No exceptions.
âCaitlinâs Secret Thoughts I broke her fucking heart so sheâd be okay. Is she okay now, Sam?
I canât get Callenâs words out of my head in the suddenly deafeningly quiet house as I walk down the stairs, careful not to trip on my unsteady legs. My bruised body aches from the near miss of the accident earlier.
A shiver rolls down my skin, just thinking about it.
One minute, we were talking, and the next, Bellamy was screaming as we both dove.
It all happened fastâso fast, itâs a blur in my mind.
The smell of rubber as the tires burned the asphalt before the car peeled away.
The way Kenzie and Wren ran out of the office, shouting instructions.
Everlyâs hysterical voice as she called nine-one-one.
Mom holding my hand after she flew out of the bakery and never letting go.
Not even in the ambulance.
I was given every test imaginable, but none of them calmed me down until they hooked me up to the fetal monitor and let me hear the heartbeat.
My babyâs heartbeat.
Fast and strong and still there.
Still. There.
That sound and everything it represented scared me to death in Kenzieâs office.
The whole thing. The pregnancy. The baby. The lack of Callen. All of it.
But my God, barely an hour later, it wasnât until the minute that beautiful little galloping beat came through the machine that I knew I was okay. Everything was going to be okay. I can figure this out, and Iâll never complain about this pregnancy again because my little pomegranate is okay.
I may not have planned it, but I want this baby.
Even if it took me nearly losing it to realize that.
I hadnât been at my parentsâ house long when I heard Callenâs voice.
I thought I was dreaming at first. As much as I hate to admit it, I just wanted Callen all day today. At Kenzieâs. At the hospital. I wanted him there with me. With us. But the dream of him may have been easier than this . . . whatever this is.
âDaddy?â I ask again with a shaking voice to match my shaking body. âWhatâs he talking about?â
My mother meets me at the bottom of the stairs before Callen can get to me, but his eyes carry the weight of the world with them as they look over every inch of me. They settle on the scrapes and bruises on my face, and I watch him physically break, wishing it didnât bother me.
Mom blocks Callen. âAre you feeling okay?â
I nod and glance at my father, whoâs standing silently across the room, before stepping in front of Callen. I donât need to be protected. Not from him. If I survived him leaving, I can survive whatever the hell heâs doing here. âWhat do you mean you broke me so Iâd be okay?â
He raises his hands toward my face, and I jerk away. âNo. You donât get to touch me.â
A bruise is blooming on his chin, and I want to kill my brother.
No matter how angry I am, I donât want to see him hurt. Not by Maddox.
âCaitie . . .â Callenâs voice . . . that voice. God, how Iâve wanted to hear my name on his lips for months.
But not now and not like this.
âWill one of you answer me?â I channel all the anger and fear Iâve been holding on to. âNow.â
My mother wraps her arm around my waist, as if carrying my weight for me. âI think thatâs a really good idea.â She looks at my father in a way Iâve never seen before. âCare to fill in the blanks?â
The room stays silent for far too long before he clears his throat.
âI did what was best for you, principessa.â
Itâs like a bubble pops and sucks all the oxygen from the room.
âWhat did you do, Sam?â Momâs voice is so calm, itâs frightening. Sheâs never questioned my father before. Not in front of me and my brothers. Not once.
Dad crosses the room, careful not to step on the shards of crystal and wood, and stops in front of me, and I know the look on his face. I know the stress in his eyes. This is all business-related. This wasnât about Callen. This was about me. âI did what was best for you. I did what I had to do. What Iâve always done. And to keep you safe, Iâd do it again.â
âOh, Sam.â Mom stiffens beside me. âTell me you didnât.â
âDidnât what?â I demand while my brothers stand silently watching as if there were a ping-pong ball volleying back and forth between us.
Dadâs jaw sets in an angry clench Iâm also all too familiar with. âIâve never discussed my business with you, and weâre not starting today.â
I try to get my fuzzy brain to make sense of all of this, but it doesnât.
Iâm not sure if itâs a protection mechanism or if I hit my head harder than I thought when I went down.
âCait . . .â
I turn around and look at Callen. Declan stands behind him, quietly having his brotherâs back. But Callen . . . heâs heartbroken, and it makes me want to scream. Iâm so angry. At him. At my father. At my brother.
âYou told me you loved me, and then you were gone,â I remind Callen. Anger and heartache mixes with mental exhaustion and physical pain. âYou said you were wrong. That we were wrong, and you left. Moved out. You made me think I was crazy. That there was never anything there. That there was nothing between us.â
âFucking coward,â Maddox growls, and I expect Callen to lose his mind over his best friend calling him that, but itâs as if heâs dismissed Maddox entirely.
The opposite of love isnât hate.
Everyone thinks it is, but itâs not.
Itâs indifference.
Callen ignores Maddox and keeps his focus solely on me.
âI would have done anything to keep you safe. To keep you whole and breathing. I thought I had toâ ââ
âWait . . .â I turn slowly back to my dad. âYou told him my life was at stake? You told him what? That he made me unsafe? But you never told me? My life, Dad. My. Life. How could you not tell me?â
My father has the decency to hold my rage-fueled glare and not look away, but he doesnât answer.
âDid you tell him he had to break it off too? Was that you? Tell me it wasnât,â I beg, but he doesnât budge. He doesnât need to say a word. I already know.
âYou did,â I gasp as my head throbs with the realization that all of this . . . the heartache. The pain. The devastation. It was avoidable. âIt was your fault. Iâve been miserable for months, and it was because of you.â
It starts to make some kind of warped sense.
Why Callen moved out so quickly.
Why this man who spent a lifetime protecting me destroyed me in one conversation.
âI could have had everything I ever wanted, and you stopped it without giving me a choice. I will never forgive you for that.â
âCaitlinââ my father pleads in a tone Iâve never heard from him before, but I move on, unable to look at him.
âAnd you.â I spin on Callen. âDid it even occur to you to talk to me? That maybe I deserved a say in how I lived my own life? Because I would have chosen you. You were worth it to me, even if I wasnât worth it to you. We could have figured it out together. But instead, you unilaterally decided you knew best for me. Like Iâm a child who needs to be saved. Shame on you.â
âYou hating me was a small price to pay to keep you safe, Caitlin. It might not have been the right thing to do, but it was the only fucking option. You were all that mattered.â He looks so sure. So confident. And yet so pissed.
You can hear a pin drop as I turn away, unable to look at him one second longer.
I take in the destruction around me.
The bruise on Callenâs jaw.
The antique table Mom and I found at a flea market a few years ago, flattened and broken on the floor.
The crushed roses and Nonnaâs favorite crystal vase, shattered.
Then I look at my brother, the one Callen tried so hard not to hurt, and Iâm utterly disgusted with him and his part in all of this.
âLetâs not forget about you.â I take a step toward Maddox, and Lucky and Rome both take a step back. It would almost be funny, if it wasnât. âGod, I looked up to you. For years, I looked up to you. You had this circle of friends that I would have given anything to be a part of. You held those girls up on pedestals. Hell, you still do. Our cousins. The twins. You respected the hell out of them. I watched. For years I watched, and I was jealous.â
I pull the blanket tighter, as if it can protect me from the pain.
The pain the men in this room caused.
âBut you never let me in that circle, did you, Maddox? You hold your friends up to such high standards and in such high regards. Thereâs only one problem with thatâthe higher you hold someone, the harder they fall.â I laugh. âI should know. But God forbid one of those friends is interested in me. I mean, itâs not like heâs worthy of my love. Right, big brother?â My voice grows incrementally louder with each new thought, but Maddox stays quiet. Guess heâs taking a page out of Dadâs book.
I really wish he wouldnât.
Iâm hungry for a fight.
I want a bad guy.
I want something or someone to focus all this anger on.
âHeâs good enough to be your best friend, but not good enough for me?â I shove Maddoxâs chest, but he doesnât budge. âThatâs rich, asshole. Do you know he didnât want to let anything happen because of you. I fucking loved him, and he made me promise we wouldnât lie to you. Because he respected you and me.â
âHeâs not good enough for you, Caitlin,â Maddox yells back, and his anger is visceral. Itâs a living, breathing thing. âHeâs fucked every woman heâs ever met. Callenâs a whore. You deserve better.â
âItâs not like youâre a saint, big brother.â Disdain floods my words. âNone of us are. Hereâs the thing thoughâyou called this man your best friend. But have you been paying attention? Because I have, and heâs neverâand I do mean not everâbrought a woman back to the condo since the day I moved in. Not once. He wasnât whoring around. Not at the bar. Not at the house. I saw it. I felt it. For four fucking years,â I scream at the top of my lungs, hysterical. âFour years, he wouldnât make a move. It wasnât until I pushed him that he finally caved.â My mother moves behind me, laying a hand on my back. âFour. Years. Maddox.â
âCaitlin,â Mom says coolly. âYouâve got to calm down. Itâs not good for the baby. They told you to relax. This isnât taking it easy.â
I shake my head, never taking my eyes off Maddox or the way he stands his ground.
âYou fucked up,â I hiss. âYou fucked up with him, and you fucked up with me.â
Maddox finally breaks. He seethes, but thereâs a change in his eyes.
Thereâs a pain that wasnât there a minute ago.
The mask falls.
âHow could you, Cait? Heâs Callen,â Maddox yells at me, and Rome moves between us. Maybe to protect meâor maybe to protect Maddox from me.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as a sob bubbles up my throat, and I throw his words back in his face. âHow could you? Heâs Callen.â I let that jab hit as hard as it was intended. âHeâs the boy you grew up with. The man youâve roomed with. The one you trusted with your life. The one who spent a lifetime earning that trust. The only man Iâve ever loved. And you just hit him.â
Maddox rocks on his feet.
âHeâs Callen,â I sob, suffocating, and step back, looking around until I find Callen, needing him to save me one more time, even if I hate myself a little for it. âI still hate you, but Iâve got nowhere else to go. Can I go home with you?â
He holds his hand out without a word, but I move around him to the front door, refusing to take it.
âAre you sure you want to go with him?â Mom asks as Declan quietly goes outside, but Callen stands here, holding the door for me.
âI love you, Mom, but I canât stay here, and I donât want to go home where Maddox will be.â
âCaitlin,â Dad interrupts. âWe donât know what happened today. I donât think you should leave. This house is safe.â
âWe have two very different definitions of safe, Daddy.â
This must be what shock feels likeâbecause I donât feel a thing as I walk away.
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!