Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Jett
When the line goes dead, I know that’s it. Anger radiates through my veins like electricity, fueling me to the point of almost snapping.
I can't keep doing this to myself. Izzy admitted to sleeping with other people, and I know damn well she was full of shit. She’s trying to push me away. She gave me an out, every reason to give up. I need to take it.
For some reason, I just fucking can't.
Izzy isn't the first girl I've been with, by far. There have been plenty before her, but none that have made me feel.
She's unapologetically herself, no matter the consequences, and although some find this annoying, I think it's beautiful. It's part of what makes her her, and although she can be infuriating at times, like now, I wouldn't change her even if I could.
Just as I begin to wallow in self-pity, my phone rings.
Kasten.
Fuck.
It could be her calling back to apologize, or it could actually be Kasten. My guess is the latter.
With hesitation, I answer. "Yeah?" I spit out angrily.
"It's me," Kasten's voice calls softly.
"Yep. I can hear that. What's up?" It comes out rushed, displaying every ounce of the annoyance, frustration, and heartbreak I’m trying to suppress.
Kasten sighs before continuing, "Just checking on you, bro."
"I'm fine," I lie through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed. Can’t he see I don’t want to talk right now?
"Yeah, okay. You know... I know how you feel about—"
"You don't know a fucking thing. I fucked your sister. That's all. She did me a favor, and I'll be fucking someone new by tonight." The lie stings as it leaves my mouth.
"You know that's fucking bullshit, Jett."
"Well, apparently, bullshit is in the air today. So why not?" I say with a huff. "None of it matters anymore. I gotta go."
I hang up the phone before another word can be said.
Drowning.
In every aspect of the word.
Two weeks after Izzy ended it all, and I’m drowning in my pent-up emotions, drowning myself in work on the ranch, drowning in missing her.
The more time passes between us, the more real it all feels. There’s no escaping this new reality that’s managed to bite me in the ass.
I hear his footsteps before I see him, and immediately my fingers dig into the leather of the armchair, already knowing what he’s going to ask. I came in here to try to fucking unwind, not be bombarded with his relentless heartache. I have my own to deal with.
"Maybe you can call Iz again to check on V?" Ander asks out of desperation as he stalks into the living room.
I get it. His heart is broken, and he misses Via.
He thinks life as he knows it is over. Little does he know that he isn't alone in that feeling. While he's openly hurting, I'm doing it in silence. Still, the fact remains that we’re both suffering. Unlike him, I’m not wallowing in fucking self-pity. Just… drowning. It’s different, and the way he’s letting his grief of losing Via take over his entire being is triggering for me. I wish I could snap him out of it.
“You call her,” I deadpan. “You’re friends.”
“I tried. She stopped answering my calls and texts. Please, Jett, can you—”
"I'm not calling Izzy," I say firmly, cutting him off and letting a bit of annoyance leak into my tone. Take the goddamn hint.
"Why not?" Ander's reply comes back quickly, clearly confused.
Fuck.
"Me and Iz don't talk anymore.”
“What? Why?”
I raise my voice. “It's not any of your goddamn business.”
“Look, man,” Ander says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can you just fucking try? I’m begging you.”
“I said no! Jesus fuck, Ander!” I growl, quickly standing. “I get you’re worried about Via, but she doesn’t want you anymore. Just like Izzy doesn’t want me. The difference is, you don't see me over here crying about it."
Ander’s jaw clenches as he takes a step toward me. "That's because you're a fucking pig and treat every female like they're disposable."
I scoff, folding my arms across my chest. “And what the fuck makes you say that?”
He scoffs right back, disgusted. “You’re my brother. I fucking know you better than anyone.”
I almost laugh. He doesn't know a damn thing.
"Look, brother, you just need to accept it for what it is,” I say, dropping my arms, trying to defuse the situation. “It's time to move on. You can't keep wallowing over some chick. It’s pathetic."
But it backfires. On both of us.
"What the fuck!? Accept it for what it is. SOME CHICK!?" Ander screams out and rushes toward me, appalled and frustrated. His hands connect with my chest, shoving me backward. "How could you even talk about her like that, asshole!?" he spits out, eyes narrowed on me.
If looks could kill, I'd be his only target. The thought only pisses me off more. Out of everyone in our family, I’ve been the one constantly by his fucking side.
My voice flares. "Because it's over! You need to realize that and stop making yourself sick over it!"
"Easy for you to say! Like I said, I know you, Jett, and you don't know shit about being in love. So who the fuck are you to tell me to move on!?"
My pent-up rage reaches its boiling point. I scoff, letting out a laugh that lacks any trace of humor. "Oh yeah, tell me, Ander—how exactly is it easy for me to say!?"
“Because you don’t fucking care about anything or anyone. Even Izzy.”
My hands flex at my sides, chest heaving, red creeping into my vision.
“See?” Ander spits. “You can’t even deny it. You’re fucking pathetic. Not me.”
That’s it.
Instantly, I take a step toward my little brother and shove him to the ground.
“What the fuck—”
I’m on him before he can finish that sentence, crouched over him, one fist bawled in his shirt, the other ready to be sent into his fucking face. A dare to say one more fucking word.
But it’s me who speaks first, shouting, "Enlighten me,” I shout, cutting him off, with a laugh that lacks all traces of humor.
Tell me how I don’t care! Tell me how I never wanted or looked for love, but I found it over time in her!
Tell me how I professed my love for her, and she shut down and pushed me out!
Fucking tell me how I haven't slept with anyone since getting with her, because no one else amounts to her! My throat tightens, and I fight off the sting behind my eyes. It’s enough to lower my voice from anger to straight fucking pain.
“Even the thought of being with anyone else in any capacity makes my stomach coil.
Tell me how I wanted more, and she said that she never stopped sleeping around.
Tell me how I'm the dumbass because that was our exact agreement; to be strictly casual and sleep with whoever else we wanted. And I fucking couldn't do it. I fell in love with her for everything she is and even for what she's not. Tell me about how, when I tried to fight for her, she said I was nothing more than a fuck toy. That I wasn’t worth it. She told me to give up. I wasn’t worth fighting for.”
A moment passes.
Slowly, Ander raises his hands in surrender.
The cautious motion is enough for me to slightly falter.
I release him, standing and stepping back, yet still enraged.
Ander follows, standing as our eyes meet as I gain my bearings, and it’s then that I notice the regret filling his features as his mouth drops.
Finally finding some relief by releasing everything I've been holding in, I continue, "Why don't you tell me about how I've been the one lifting you every goddamn day while I'm struggling too.
Tell me how I feel like I had everything I never knew I needed in the palm of my hand, and I fucking lost it.
And please, tell me how I miss her so fucking much that it physically hurts.
Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you go ahead and tell me how I'm going through the same shit you're going through, and I'm not making everyone else miserable by walking around here being a broody dickwad. "
I'm damn near breathless once I finish. My heart is racing, my fists are clenched, and my mind is going a million miles a second.
I need to get out of here. If I don't, I'll really hurt him. I don't want to do that. I’ve worked too hard to control my aggression to let it slip like that.
"Jett, I didn't know—"
Holding up a hand, turning and walking out of the room, I say, "Don't fucking bother, brother. Remember, you know me.”
“I do know something,” Ander says from behind me, stopping me in my tracks.
“I know exactly how hard it is to let go of someone you love.” I turn back, looking over my shoulder at him.
“I’m sorry, Jett. You never let on that she meant so much to you.
Because I know you so well, I should have seen it, but I didn’t.
” He sighs, long and defeated. “But I see it now. I see your pain. And I’m here, man. ”
I don’t respond with words; I just give him a nod of understanding and truce right before I turn and continue walking away.