39. Della
DELLA
Tears burn in my eyes. How dare he talk about me like that? Paying rent and putting out?
Partaking in bonuses because he invented a job for me?
Telling Cayson that he could be a douche to whoever he hooked up with after me?
I’ve never… I have no words.
It feels as if I’ve had the wind knocked out of me because I surely can’t find the air.
Not to mention, I like Jaxon. No, I’m not having grandiose thoughts about marriage this soon into knowing him, but I signed on for three more months in town because I am a little curious to see if it might go anywhere.
But to hear him speak about this thing between us before anything has even gotten started?
Being here has been everything to me. I feel like I’ve found myself, tapped back into my art, learned what out-of-this-world sex is, laughed, and authentically fell for someone on my terms. Faster than I ever could have imagined, but still.
However, it appears I am nothing more than a piece of ass. When I finally gasp for breath, my entire body starts to shake with rage and panic. I have to get out of here. When I replay the few sentences that will be burned into my brain, I double over at the waist so I don’t fall.
To think I was so confident there was something that had sparked to life between us.
And what the fuck is with Cayson? I thought he liked me.
Sure, he isn’t the friendliest of the bunch, but I know he’s got a lot going on, so I didn’t think anything of it.
To insinuate that I would do anything like this?
What does the rest of the Wills family think of me if I was so wrong about Cayson?
I’m going to be sick.
Because of that, I try to back away quickly, but in the stress of the moment, I forget that I put the giant duffel bag down behind me.
I was bringing back truck blankets and a sweatshirt that I had washed.
So when I take a step back, I trip over it and fall with a gigantic crash, right on my tailbone.
A pained sound escapes my mouth, even though I try to hold it in.
Now, tears are spilling from the hurt as much as everything I just heard.
The door swings open, and Jaxon and Cayson are staring at me with looks of surprise, but I look down right after catching Jaxon’s eye. They both stand there for an extra beat before springing into action.
“Jesus, Del, you okay?” Jaxon says, taking two strides to help me up. But I don’t want their help. I want nothing from them ever again.
“Don’t touch me,” I cry as I slap his hand away. His face morphs into confusion because, since the first night we were together, I’ve never rejected a touch from him, not even once.
“You’re crying,” he says with concern. I want to shout of course, I’m crying, I didn’t imagine being broken again, but here we are.
“I’m fine, just tripped,” I reply. If there is a God, can he please help me keep it together right now so I can retain some shred of dignity?
I start to stand, but damn, my tailbone is throbbing, so I struggle.
Cayson reaches out to help this time. But there is no fucking way he is touching me again, so I hit his arm with enough force to recoil it, and he steps back.
“Let me help you,” Jaxon says softly as he lowers to the balls of his feet to be eye level with me.
“I’m fine,” I insist. “Just go away.” The words come out sharp, trying to mask the tears. It doesn’t make sense because it’s his house, but what I need them to do is go back into his office, or anywhere, so I can get up and out on my own accord.
They look at each other, then back at me again.
“Please go,” I say, closing my eyes, praying I melt into the floor.
Cayson nods and grabs Jaxon by the arm as they take a step towards the hall to the kitchen.
I feel the relief that they’re not going to witness my struggle, but Jax shakes Cayson off and comes behind me.
In an instant, he puts his hands under my armpits and pulls me up.
I cry out in equal parts pain and the fact his touch makes my skin crawl.
Reflexively, I throw my head back towards his face to get him off, but I don’t connect.
“Jesus fuck, Della. Are you trying to break my nose?”
Now that I’m on my feet, I turn and square my shoulders to him.
“I told you not to touch me. Maybe fucking listen next time.” My tailbone is screaming, my heart is screaming, and my head is screaming.
Even though I’m not capable of it, I want to punch him and run away.
I’m trying my damndest to keep my lip wobbles from turning into sobs as I glare at him, trying to figure out what my next move is going to be.
“I’m sorry,” he says with his hands up. “You did say not to touch you, but I’d never leave you on the floor crying. Are you okay?”
“Better than ever.” I swallow against the emotion rising in my throat. “I just wanted to drop off the blankets and sweatshirt, so I’ll go ahead and leave them here. Wouldn’t want to keep them and have anyone think I was taking advantage or anything.”
Both of their mouths drop open at the same time as I turn to limp out. Now there is no confusion as to what my problem is.
Fucking assholes.
“Della, wait. No,” he says to my back. “No, Del, God. What did you hear? You don’t understand…” I turn again. He doesn’t even have to hear the explanation of why I’m pissed. He knows.
“Don’t understand what, Jaxon? The bonuses you are getting or the fact you’re waiting for me to leave town so you can hook up with someone else?” The last part gets me, and I have to choke back my cry.
Oh my God, how could he say that?
“No. No, no, no, no, no…” He reaches to grab my hand, but I slap him away again.
“I said don’t fucking touch me,” I shout.
His hands go up to his temples, and he’s shaking his fists like he doesn’t know what to do, what to say.
“You don’t understand my brother,” he says, talking about Cayson even though he’s right there.
“He’s so fucking miserable, and I just needed to get something done, and I needed him off my back.
I said something to get him to leave me alone, because he wouldn’t have otherwise.
Oh my God, no Della, no, please don’t listen to that.
I didn’t mean it. They were just words said in a heated moment. ”
“Words matter, Jax. I can’t believe you’re going to try to tell me not to listen to them. Are you seriously trying to gaslight me like every other male in my life? Oh my God, I deserve so much better than that.”
“You do. You deserve everything. I don’t feel that way. I swear to you.”
Looking at him in a mix of rage, disgust, and heartbreak, the question spills out.
“Did you really invent a job for me?” That sentence from Cayson rings in my head.
But of course he did. That first night at the Rusty Lantern.
When Molly suggested it, I assumed it was par for the course, but apparently not. What an idiot I was.
“What?” his head tilts.
“The job I’m doing. Did you create a spot?” We were flirty from the beginning, and the thought boomerangs into me. “Did you create the role to sleep with me?”
His expression looks back at me pained, like he can’t believe I would even ask that.
“No. Fuck no, Della. I never expected anything from you. I saw a woman who needed something. Not sex. This isn’t about sex.
I saw someone who needed a place to land so she could figure her shit out, and I know it’s crazy, but I wanted to give it to you.
Was I actively searching for someone for that role?
No. But we always have people jumping on.
That day at the garage, something about you spoke to me, and I wanted to help you. Everything after was just…”
“A bonus,” I cut him off. “Say it, Jaxon. It’s what you said to Cayson. Everything after was just a bonus.”
He tries to grab my hands, but I jerk them back. This man is never touching me again. “Please look at me, Della. Please.” I bring my watery eyes to his. I am determined not to let him see a single tear fall. “None of that was how it sounded,” he begs me to listen.
“Sure thing,” I say. “You know, I’m not sure what’s worse.
If what you said was true, then I’ve been played.
And that sucks. But if it’s not, the fact that you think so little of me, that you’re willing to spit that vitriol to get your brother off your back instead of digging in and defending me?
I’m worth so much more and I won’t tolerate it.
Not anymore. I’ll be out of your hair soon,” I say, pivoting on my heels and walking out the door.
“Della, please. Fuck, please,” he begs, following me.
“Leave me alone, Jax,” I say with my back to him.
“No one deserves that. Not even my worst enemy. And I just have to add, at no point in whatever the fuck this was, or what I thought it was, did I ever have a single inkling about taking advantage of you.” I swipe the tear that escapes quickly because how could he think that?
“I know you weren’t. I never thought that. I just… the words just came out to shut him up. You weren’t supposed to hear it.”
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s got tears in his eyes. But I can’t turn to him. That would be too hard to see.
“You’re right, Jaxon. I wasn’t. But how fortuitous that I did. Now I know how you really feel. I wonder what other things you’ve said about me when you didn’t think I’d hear.”
“I swear to you, I don’t…” he chokes out.
With that, I don’t even let him finish his sentence before I leave.
When my ass hits the golf cart, I’m desperate to get out of his presence.
Nothing undercuts righteous anger faster than a golf-cart getaway, but I make it to my cabin in record time.
After the front door is closed, I put my back against it and sink to the ground, bringing my knees to my chest so the tears can freely fall with the weight of everything he said.
What am I going to do? Maybe I’ll just leave town completely.
It’s not like I have an actual job that matters.
He created it. What else has he lied about?
Maybe I’ll just go and live with Quinn. I kind of like this cowboy life.
Or maybe I do what I was initially going to; head to Driggs and then keep going west. Find the coast. I’m sure they need physical therapy aides who moonlight as an artist.
Artist.
Fuck.
I have that art show coming up. I really don’t want to back out of it.
Since being here, I have rediscovered parts of myself that I thought I never would, painting being one of the most significant.
But my thoughts are so scattered, and any semblance of rationality just keeps getting interrupted by the cutting sentences repeating in my head.
I was a bonus.
He created the spot.
He was biding his time until I left, and he was already planning on hooking up with someone else.
Paying rent and putting out.
I know I was the one who pushed for the physical relationship. I’m the one who asked him to explore things I’ve wanted. Things probably would have progressed to this point anyway, but I poured on the gasoline and lit the match.
And now, I’ve never felt so cheap.
That thought is the one that brings me to my feet. I drag through the cabin and find comfort in my bed. Curling up in the fetal position, I clutch a pillow and cry for all the things that have happened to me over the last five years.