Chapter 16
Sixteen
W hen my eyes open, Mick’s staring at me intently. A canvas of indecipherable emotion swirls in those gray pools. Sharp spikes of adrenaline pump through my veins, yanking me into consciousness.
Mick extends a hand, lightly stroking my face from forehead to chin. His gaze fastens on mine, as if etching this moment into his memory.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
His eyes close, a furrow forming in the valley of his brows, making the scar splitting his right brow more obvious. “It’s not good.”
He heaves out a frustrated sigh, hoisting himself to sitting.
He pulls his jeans off the floor and fishes out his Marlboros.
Clamping a cigarette between his lips, he flicks his Zippo twice to ignite it, a stream of smoke following.
“But it’s bigger than that. This whole shitshow has blown up to epic fucking proportions. ”
“What happened with the Remingtons?” I fumble for my pack.
Mick’s at the ready with his lighter and the burn of nicotine down my throat has never been more welcome .
“Virginia and Rick are at their wits’ end, and it’s totally understandable.” Mick draws one of his knees up to rest his forearm against it. “Remy’s in full fuck-up mode, and that affects everyone in his universe.”
Don’t I know it.
We both take long drags as I wait excruciating seconds to understand why he’s so shaken. Why he cried the night before.
“They asked me for a big fucking favor,” he says low, his head hanging.
“What kind of favor?” It’s an effort to keep my voice level.
He takes three more pulls, burning his cigarette down to the filter, then violently stubs it against the ashtray, avoiding my gaze. His throat undulates like he just swallowed a hard-boiled egg. “They want Remy to live with me so I can help him get clean?—”
“ WHAT? ”
He chews his lip and nods, swallows again. “Remy and Sherry. A tag-team approach where I drop Remy off at a new outpatient rehab during the day, then Sherry or I take him to meetings in the evenings.
“That’s outrageous! And ridiculous!”
Silence.
“You’re not thinking of actually doing it, are you?” I take two furious puffs, almost choking, before grounding it out.
He heaves out another lengthy breath, and then I know. He is.
I throw off the covers and pace, my thoughts scattering as I grapple with the implications. I fling my hands violently in the air. “What the fuck, Mick? This will consume your entire life. And what about us? We can’t possibly navigate that! I mean, how long would this last?”
Mick approaches, his eyes dulled, shoulders hunched.
“Jax,” he murmurs, holding my hips as our gaze locks. “He’s tried a half dozen ways to get clean already. His parents and wife don’t have a clue how to deal with him or this.”
“And you do?”
“I don’t fucking know, but I can’t argue that if he’s in Half Moon Bay, he’s removed from the people and places that make it easy for him to score drugs.
You know how remote my place is—there’s no way for him to find that shit out there.
And he’ll either be at the recovery facility or with me and Sherry. ”
I glare, astonished he’s considering this. Not considering…decided.
“It’s not what I want, Jax—you know that. But I’ve wracked my brain to think of another solution, and...” He falters, looking bereft. “I’ve got nothing.”
“But how is this going to work? When will we see each other?”
His eyes glass. He says nothing as his throat bobs.
“Oh my god. We’re not going to, are we?”
“I don’t see how we can stay together if I do this. And it’s not a choice. I have to help Remy.”
My knees buckle and he grips me tighter, holding me up. “But why?” I cry. “He’s already done rehabs, dry-out stints, meetings. Been to jail. His parents threatened him with his trust fund. None of it has changed anything. He’s still being a selfish prick.”
“I owe a debt,” Mick whispers. “And it’s time to pay up.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks. This again. “That’s one hell of a price tag.”
“Remy is my best friend. He and his family were there when I needed them. They gave me a safe place to land, a home away from the shitty fucking one I had. Away from abuse that lasted for years.” He swallows, meeting my tortured gaze, a tear slipping down his own cheek.
“Rem needs me now. I can’t abandon him. It’s my turn to try and save his life. ”
“But we love each other. What we have is…” my voice breaks, “everything.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
My fingers grip his sides. “Then let’s talk about how to make it work.”
“Jax,” he implores, his hand smoothing my hair.
“This situation is going to take months. Maybe longer. I will not put your life on hold or allow you to be shackled just because I am. I will not ask you to wait for me when I have no idea how long it’s going to take.
I will not ruin your life at my expense. ”
Tears streak down my face. “But I will.”
Mick squeezes his eyes shut before pinning me with those gray eyes. “I know…and it’s not right.”
“Yes, it is…because I love you more than I do myself. There is no one righter for me than you. You are everything to me. I would wait five lifetimes for you if I had to. That’s how perfect you are, we are.”
His eyes flare. “You think I don’t feel the same?
That I don’t love you more than I do myself?
I have never loved a soul the way I do you.
You are the reason my heart even fucking beats.
But I love you too much to allow you to waste time hoping for something that now seems impossible.
Don’t you see, Jax? This situation with Remy isn’t about how long this newest BS is going to take…
six months, a year, two years…it’s lifelong .
Everything has changed between the three of us, and we can’t go back in time to change it.
We can’t go back to being friends. The three of us can’t even hang out because there’s too much history, way too much intensity, and his wife will never understand any of it, let alone accept it. ”
It’s all my fears realized. The sense of foreboding that’s hovered like a cloud finally unleashing its storm.
“This latest predicament is just a catalyst for what I’d hoped, fucking prayed, wasn’t happening…but there’s no de nying the reality. Can’t you see? We’re trapped in a rip current and can’t find our way back to shore.”
He knew. Even a part of me did too.
My sobs fill the room. I sink my face into his chest and we cling to each other…and cry.
Mick and I ease into the shower, meeting under the warm spray. He presses his lips gently to mine as we hold one another. Closing my swollen eyes, I lean my head back into the stream and let the water soak my skin.
Injustice and unfairness rage within. I’ve known somewhere deep inside—maybe even from Remy’s phone call from rehab—that this was our inevitable conclusion.
I hoped we could overcome the obstacles, that love would triumph and conquer all.
Another wave hits, sobs threatening to unleash and drown me.
I tamp it down, fortifying the mental dam staving off my total collapse.
I can’t think about the end, can’t bear it or fathom it. I must stay in the absolute present. Second by second. Or else I’ll shatter into so many pieces I will never be whole again.
I give myself permission to cry for months, years, once my ocean walks out the door. Until then, I will bury my self-pity and inhale every moment of him—us—that remains, committing it to memory.
Mick soaps my body. He’s so careful, reverent, quiet…is he memorizing me too? He shampoos my hair—one of my favorite things—his hands gentle but thorough. I fight another sob. This is the last time he will do this.
He rubs in conditioner then pulls me close to kiss me softly.
His tongue finds mine and they glide and swirl together, writing their own love letter in a language they’ve mastered.
He grips me tighter, and I clutch his frame as our kisses speak for us.
My fingers rove across his masculine contours, broad shoulders, and down the valley of his back.
His erection hardens between us, sparking desire from my throat to the sweet spot buried in my center.
He breaks the kiss and cups my cheek, his earnest eyes searching mine, his wet lashes making the gray irises even more vivid. “I want to make love to you for hours,” he murmurs. It’s a question, a plea.
Choking back the emotion threatening to topple the dam, I nod.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
It’s an unspoken agreement. We’ll make love, not war.
For as long as we can.
Time is a ticking atom bomb, each second bringing us closer to our impending demise as a couple. Not just demise…utter destruction.
I call in sick to work and we hole up to make love, eat, and watch TV twined together. It’s the first time I’ve truly understood the meaning of bittersweet.
Now we’re naked in my bed, the glow of our aftermath dimmed by Mick’s nearing departure. These are our last precious moments, and they’re quickly dwindling. I’m due at the restaurant for the dinner shift soon, and he’s leaving…
And never returning.
“This fucking sucks,” I mumble into his bare chest, my fingers tracing the happy trail on his lower abdomen, the hair a shade darker than the chestnut color framing his face.
Mick kisses my temple. “Yeah, it does. But you and me? We’re survivors. So don’t you dare let this stop you from kicking ass and taking names. Take the world by storm and show it exactly what I see.”
I’m viscerally aware this is my last pep talk from Mick Callahan.
My eyes find his. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known.
You’ve given me so much. Love. Acceptance.
Guidance. Encouragement. Confidence. Respect.
” A rueful laugh escapes. “Can’t forget orgasms.” Nose stinging, I inhale a deep breath and rest my cheek against his chest. “You’ve done more for me in our time together than I’ve gotten in a lifetime.
You took all my broken parts and made me… whole. Complete.”
His arms wrap around me tightly, his voice sincere as he murmurs into my ear. “You are complete without anyone else. Never forget that. The only person in life you need to rely on is you. You, Jax . You are the most important ally, friend, and warrior in your own life.”
I want to remember this wisdom, let it sink in…but I’m already shattering, splintering, disintegrating…incomplete. I don’t know how to be the woman he seems to think I am.
Mick takes me by the hand and leads me out the front door. The sun is lowering in the sky, and my mind flashes to the sunsets we’ve enjoyed at his place in Half Moon Bay. That only cues a parade of memories we’ve created that I’ll miss.
He opens the door to the Mustang and throws his hoodie inside. A shiver courses through me as the chill outside hits. He presses me against the car, reminiscent of so many other glorious times, and cradles my face. “I’ll never regret one second with you.”
A tear escapes down one cheek, and he thumbs it away. “Same. I love you, now and forever.”
“No more tears, baby. I’m not worth it.”
My heart flinches. “Stop saying that, Mick. Stop believing it. How can you think you’re unworthy when ours is the most profound connection I’ve experienced with another human being? You are the planet I orbit. The moon that shifts my tides. The beat to my goddamned heart.”
His forehead touches mine. “I’m so fucking sorry. Those words probably sound hollow, but I am, Jax. This is the hardest decision I’ve ever been forced to make. You mean everything to me.”
All I can manage is a wan smile. “You’re kicking your heroin habit.”
“There’s no such thing with you and me.”
I nod without understanding, hanging by a tenuous thread.
“I’m doing this for you,” he murmurs. “Remember when I said you weren’t destined to be caged—you were meant to fly? You were meant to soar . That’s all I want for you.”
My splintering fragile self understands this, but I will never accept it.
He pulls me close and kisses me gently, and our lips say the goodbye neither of us wants to speak out loud. We part and his hand finds mine again. He squeezes it and brings it to his lips for one last kiss.
“I love you, Jax.” Then he slides into the driver’s seat of his fastback.
My heart hammers in my chest. This is it. This is really it.
“I love you so fucking much, Mick.”
He cranks up the Mustang and it growls to life before the idle calms to a steady purr. He shuts the door while I stand rooted and immobile. Mick’s eyes flash to mine once more, his expression grim, then he guns it down the street.