CHAPTER 17
Everything feels wrong. My skin is too tight, my nerves too frayed, my heart too heavy. And my brain? It doesn’t believe what’s going on. But it’s true.
Last night, when I first realized Jake had left, I was convinced something bad must have happened to him.
I even brought up the surveillance footage, sure that I’d see a gunman approach Jake’s truck and force him to drive away.
When that didn’t prove true, I rewound the video even farther, watching the vehicle from the moment he got home to make sure someone hadn’t climbed inside, hidden in the back seat.
No one did.
Which means that despite everything that’s been going on, the threat I might be facing, he chose to go. The Jake I know wouldn’t do that. But how well do I really know him?
I’ve been back less than half a year. Sure, we were inseparable as children, but that was a long time ago. Over thirty years. Before his mom helped murder my parents and abandoned him. The mom who he’s decided to buy a legal defense for, to help her get away with what she did to my family.
Emptying the last three Tums from the plastic bottle, I crunch them between my aching molars, wondering if I’m a fool.
But I refuse to give up just yet. Even my grandfather, the man who raised me to be so wary and on guard, trusted Jake implicitly.
I can’t allow myself to be a coward and turn my back on what we have just because it turns out he’s human and not perfect.
All night long, I kept telling myself to give him the benefit of the doubt and not jump to conclusions. As I paced around the house. Checked in on the sleeping raccoon, selfishly wanting to wake her for a cuddle. As I desperately tried to get some sleep.
But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jake’s back as he walked through the door without a backward glance. The harder I tried to clear my mind, the louder Dylan Walker’s parting words rang inside it: “Think about the blood that’s in his veins. Her blood.”
My heart is begging me not to rush to conclusions. My gut keeps assuring me that there’s an explanation.
At the same time, I’m so hurt that I can’t help being angry. Would he have left if he really cared about me?
Even if he would, is this what I have to look forward to in this relationship?
Him taking off instead of staying and talking it out like an adult whenever I do something that upsets him?
He’s the one who felt the need to sneak around, even though I’ve done my best to let him know that it wasn’t necessary.
Which brings me around to the entire how well do I really know him argument again. Maybe we’re moving too fast. Maybe this is my sign that I need to take a step back, pump the brakes, and insert some distance between us.
It’s what I usually do. Since I escaped Matt and started college, I’ve yet to have a relationship last longer than a few months, turning my back and walking away at the first sign of trouble.
But as much as I feel like an idiot for allowing myself to be vulnerable, every cell in my body says that I need to talk to him before making any decisions. Only, that’s kind of hard to do when he won’t answer his phone or return my texts.
My jaw clenches so fiercely as I end the call that my neck goes into spasm. My throat is so tight I can barely swallow. The rest of me isn’t faring much better. I think I made a mistake. The question is, how badly have I messed up?
Before I can change my mind, I place another call. Drum my fingers on the kitchen table while I listen to it ring. Exhale a huge sigh of relief when it’s answered.
“Hey, girl.”
“Hi, Mallory.”
“Director Jacobson filled me in on what happened. They just aren’t giving you a break down there, are they?”
“They don’t appear to be, no.”
“Well, I haven’t found anything useful yet, but don’t worry, I will.”
“Thanks, Mal. But actually… I’m not calling about that. I need some advice.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Hold on a sec. I better sit down for this.” A moment later she says, “Okay. Lay it on me.”
So I do. I tell her about Jake’s odd behavior. The secrets he’s kept. Everything I had to find out from Julian and the way Jake reacted when I spoke to him about what I had learned. How he took off and now refuses to answer my calls and texts.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Did I screw up? Was I out of line?”
My gut twists when my questions are met with silence. Mallory’s never without words. The fact that she is now? It feels like all the confirmation I need. Finally, after what seems like years have passed, her voice carries over the line.
“Well, I mean, maybe? This Julian? He’s the one Jake works with, right? The other senior partner?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because I’ve seen his picture and, girl, he’s hot. Not Jake hot, but a close enough second where he wouldn’t feel like a consolation prize.”
“But I have absolutely zero interest in him.”
“I’m not sure that matters.”
“There’s no way that Jake would think that I was. That that’s what this is about.”
“Unless maybe you gave him a reason to,” Mallory says gently. “Like believing the other man’s word over his.”
My acid reflux flares so bad it feels like I’m breathing fire. Like I’m melting from the inside. And I suspect that I might just deserve to.
The indignant anger I’ve been nursing between my pangs of regret since he walked out last night is suddenly gone, the coals now colder than if they’d been encased inside a glacier.
I deserve his silent treatment.
“I should grovel until he listens to my apology, shouldn’t I?”
“I mean, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You do you, girl, but if it was me, I might just go ahead and bite the bullet and do it. What’s it going to hurt, besides maybe your pride?”
The truth is, it won’t even hurt that. Especially not if it brings Jake home.
“Any suggestions for how to do that when he won’t talk to me?”
“I’ve heard showing up wearing nothing but an overcoat works.”
Even though I would have thought it impossible given how miserable I feel right now, I laugh.
“Thanks, Mal.”
“Don’t mention it. And, Cassidy?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t worry. You guys will get through this.”
“Yeah.”
I wish I had her confidence about that, but I don’t. I’m worried that I might have irreparably damaged our relationship. Broken Jake’s trust. Driven a wedge between us that we’ll never be able to remove. And if that’s true, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
It’s not only that without Jake I’m in this mess all alone. It’s that without him, what’s the point of fighting so hard to get out of it?