Chapter 52
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
JULIUS
I gasped, shooting straight up in bed. My hand instantly went to my heart, which hammered against my ribs. I was sweating and trying to catch my breath.
I’d heard that soulmates could feel each other from across the world. It didn’t matter how far apart you were. Your soul could feel theirs.
I never believed it to be true.
Until that very moment when the universe chose to tell me that our connection was stronger than the distance between us. It didn’t whisper it. It yelled it. Except I couldn’t hear what it was saying, I could only feel it.
Her turmoil.
What the hell is happening?
The panic started to settle in, and it was suffocating. For the past month, I thought of nothing but Isla.
Every single day.
There wasn’t a second that I didn’t see her face, her smile, hear her laughter, her moan…
Screaming my name.
“I want you.” She positioned my dick at her entrance. “I’m yours.”
“Isla, don’t say things you can’t understand.”
“I love—”
“Don’t say things I can’t understand.”
“Julius—”
I kissed her.
I was so lost.
I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t stay with her either. Not in that house. It was a ticking time bomb for me. I was beyond exhausted. I spent my entire life taking care of someone else who didn’t give a shit about it.
I sacrificed my life for what…
I had nothing to show for it.
No degree.
No job.
Not a future.
Life took a one-eighty the day Melody died. The world flipped on its axis, dragging me with it. The floor finally fell out from beneath me, and I had no choice but to crash with it. My days turned into one huge blur of trying to find some direction.
I never intended to leave her the way I did, especially after we slept together. I knew it was wrong. Though it would have been worse if I had stayed. I wasn’t in the right state of mind.
For the first time in my life, I understood Melody, and that was the hardest pill to swallow. It was actually still stuck in my throat, and it didn’t matter how much water I drank. It was lodged in there.
My eyes shifted to the clock on the nightstand, and it read 4 a.m. I was in a hotel in Miami, drowning myself in work for Marco.
Grabbing my cell phone, I resisted the urge to call her.
Text her.
Try to reach out.
Explain…
What do I say? Where do I start? How do I make her understand?
I just needed a break. At least, that was what I repeated to myself every day. I wasn’t gone forever, and that thought alone made me spiral, contemplating how many times Melody had the same one.
Is it my fault she’s dead?
The guilt I carried felt like rocks being poured down my lungs, and now I had to live with that too.
For the rest of the week, I was on autopilot.
Confused.
Embarrassed.
Worried.
There wasn’t an emotion I wasn’t plagued by.
Every day, I woke up at four in the morning, feeling her in every sense of the word.
Completely unaware of which side was up or down, left or right.
I was disoriented among my own thoughts, seeking comfort in my empty embrace.
I allowed darkness to creep over me, smothering any light left inside me.
“Hey!” Marco greeted, pulling my focus over to him.
We were in his office at his club.
“You alright in there?”
I nodded.
“You don’t look alright. You look like shit.”
I shrugged. “I’m still making you money.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“What?” I scoffed. “We’re friends now?”
He leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. “I’d like to think so.”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
“No, but you do need a friend.”
“Don’t tell me what I need, Marco.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I arched an eyebrow. “And what message is that?”
All in one breath, he ordered, “You need to go home.”
“You’re firing me now?”
“You’re no good to me when you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“I’m fine.”
“Until what, huh? Until you’re so tired that you make a careless mistake, and I got the cops on my ass?”
“Marco—”
“You have a family waiting for you. You got a brother, a girl, you have someone to go home to. Why are you putting yourself through this? Why are you punishing yourself?”
“You don’t know shit about shit.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, alright? I know everything.”
I narrowed my stare at him, my gut telling me this wasn’t good.
His expression hardened. “Including, I know what’s happening under your roof while you sit here and argue under mine.”
I jerked back, sick to my stomach. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Julius, don’t play dumb. You’re not good at it.”
Pinching my eyebrows together, I snapped, “What did Kraven do now?”
“Well, Julius… while the cat's away, the mice will play.”
My stomach dropped.
Is that what I’m feeling?
“Yeah,” he agreed, reading my mind. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking, so unless you want to forfeit, I suggest you get your ass home and take care of business before you lose it all. Understood?”
“I left her, Marco. How do I make that right? How do I get her to forgive me?”
“For starters.” He leaned into his desk, resting his elbows on it. “I’d begin with dropping to your knees and begging for it.”
I needed to know, so I asked, “What exactly am I walking into?”
The expression on his face was enough to let me know I royally fucked up.
He didn’t sugarcoat it, not that I expected him to.
“Your worst nightmare.”
I felt the bile rise in my throat.
“You better get your shit together,” he demanded.
The images of them together became so real, so vivid, so alive…
I no longer had any peace.
My thoughts ruthlessly assaulted me, taking me hostage. Where the devil welcomed me with open arms, it was the same purgatory I spent all this time trying to protect Isla and Kraven from.
The irony was not lost on me.
I could battle her anger, the brutality of her words, aware that I wasn’t intimidated or scared of her past or her trauma. I had my own. But I couldn’t fight for what wasn’t there.
It was her coldness.
Her distant hollowness.
Her betrayal I set in motion without meaning to.
Those were all weapons I had no artillery for.
I refused to lose her when I was the one who left her. Nothing made sense, yet it made more sense than ever.
My fucking brother.
I didn’t think he’d be this cruel, and I hadn’t even seen anything yet. My imagination was enough.
I need answers, and I need them right now!
Despite the looming feeling in the pit of my soul, I admitted, “What if I already lost her to my brother?”
He didn’t waver. “What if you didn’t?”
“How far behind am I?”
“Enough to where I think she’s waking up in his bed.”
My jaw clenched.
My hands fisted.
I instantly saw red.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have brought any of this up if I wasn’t.”
Unable to resist, I blurted, “Are they fucking? Is he fucking her?”
In a flash, he replied, “If you have to ask me, then you already know the answer.”
I winced. He was right.
I barely had time to contemplate what he insinuated before he added, “Oh, by the way…”
Everything came to a head.
Blasting.
Detonating.
Shattering whatever restraint I had left as he informed…
“Your father lit that flame.”