31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Warlock
I’m standing at the window, staring out at nothing, a glass of whiskey in my hand. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Maybe too much.
My phone pings with a text. When I check it, it’s from Tallahassee.
Tallahassee: I’ve been where you are, Darren. I understand what you’re going through. I know how hard this is for you. You don’t have to go through this alone. Please talk to me. Let me help you.
I rub at the ache in my chest as I scroll through her most recent messages.
Tallahassee: I heard your confinement ended. Are you okay?
Tallahassee: How are you?
Tallahassee: Can I see you?
Tallahassee: Please let me know you’re alright.
Tallahassee: Darren, please talk to me.
That’s enough of that.
I toss the phone aside with a groan and take another swallow of whiskey.
I’ve been avoiding her. Ignoring her calls and texts. Refusing to let her see me.
I’d avoid my dad too, but he comes by almost daily, barging in and making it impossible to ignore him. If I’m honest, I’m glad he hasn’t given up on me. At this point he’s the only thing keeping me from giving up on myself.
Other than my JAG—who I’m not entirely convinced grasps the severity of my situation—my dad is the only one I can discuss my case with.
The no-contact order prevents me from discussing it with my team.
And I won’t discuss it with Tallahassee because I don’t want to involve her any more than she already is.
I don’t want her burdened by the weight of my catastrophic situation.
Dad lectures me. He’s angry on Tallahassee’s behalf. “You can’t keep dodging her. Shutting her out like this and ghosting her. It’s cruel, Darren. She cares about you. She deserves to know why you’re refusing to see her.”
He’s right, of course. But not being linked with me is what’s best for her.
What he doesn’t understand is that bigger forces are at work here.
That Cyril Abernathy’s billionaire daddy has senators, congressmen, and maybe even the president on speed dial.
He needs a scapegoat to keep his son from facing prosecution as a sexual predator, and they’ve chosen me as the fall guy.
I’ve fallen hard for Tallahassee. I don’t want to lose her, but how else can I protect her? But protecting her means she can’t be associated with or have anything to do with me. I won’t burden her with the stench of my legal troubles after everything she’s already endured.
Especially not with Vincent’s threats still hanging over her.
I can’t pile my problems on top of that and complicate her life more.
I know I have to end things. It’s what’s best for her.
As much as it’s going to gut me, it’s what’s best for both of us.
The way things are piling up against me, I won’t be around anyway.
I can’t stand the thought of her putting her life on hold to wait for me.
Visiting me in prison. Waiting years for me to be released.
It’s unacceptable. I won’t allow that to happen.
Tallahassee’s stubborn, and I know she cares about me. Which means I’ll have to ignore my own feelings and be ruthless, or she’ll never let me go.
My equally stubborn father refuses to give up. “Your team is angry on your behalf. They don’t like it, but they understand the no-contact order. Your woman, on the other hand, is mad as a hornet.”
She’s not my woman anymore.
I tell him to leave it alone. There’s nothing more to say.
The decision is made. I only wish I’d known the last time I was with Tallahassee would be our last night together. If I’d known, I would’ve kissed her like it was the first time. Held her like it would last forever.
I’d never again be inside her, hear those sexy little noises she makes, or fall asleep with her in my arms.
Don’t dwell on it.
I refill my glass and relocate to the couch, trying to shove away the memories before they weigh me down. But it isn’t working. I’m throwing myself a self-indulgent pity party. I’ve never wallowed over anyone in my whole life, but there’s no denying that’s exactly what this is.
The writing’s on the wall. Tallahassee deserves a future, and I can no longer give that to her. But the thought of breaking both our hearts is tearing me apart.
A knock at my door jars me from my thoughts. I ignore it. I’m not in the mood to see anyone.
The knock comes again, louder, and more insistent this time.
With a curse, I reluctantly drag myself off the couch and squint through the peephole.
I’m not surprised to see Tallahassee standing on my doorstep. Truth is, I’ve been expecting her. What does surprise me is that she waited this long.
I blow out a long breath, hoping I can pull off this travesty. There’s no point pretending I’m not home. The only thing left to do is open the door and put an end to us.