Hero

by Samantha Young

  Looking away, I dug into my purse and produced the keys. They were snatched out of my hand before I could say or do anything and Caine let us into my building.

  I followed him upstairs, my heels clacking obnoxiously loud on the stairwell. Any noise in the face of his dispassionate taciturnity seemed obnoxious, if only because I was so hyperaware that to him it was obnoxious.

  This was a man who wanted to be done with me as quickly and quietly as possible.

  My dignity warred with my outrage.

  I reached my front door to find Caine had opened it but was still standing out in my hallway. He gestured for me to go inside.

  Indignation narrowed my eyes. “You first.”

  Still blank. Still ice. “I’m tired. We’ll talk later.”

  “You first or I’ll follow you back outside.”

  “Don’t be childish.” Again with the monotone.

  Earlier his overreaction, his fury, had pissed me off. Now I’d give anything to have it back. “You first,” I insisted.

  With a long-suffering sigh Caine walked into the apartment. Bolstering myself for what was to come, I exhaled shakily and followed him in. I closed the door quietly behind me and strode down my hall and into my living room.

  Caine stood staring out the window, reminding me of the first time he’d been in my place. Pain lanced across my chest. The silence between us was unbearable. It felt thick and cold and dangerous. Like if I slammed my fist against the air in front of me it would shatter and tear my skin.

  I drew in a ragged breath. The noise caught Caine’s ear and he glanced at me. The moonlight illuminated his face, allowing me to see that his expression had not changed.

  “Who was she?” I said.

  He turned around. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does matter. If this conversation is going where I think it’s going, it matters a whole lot.”

  “And where do you think this is going?”

  “Oh no. I’m not making it that easy for you. If you want to do it, you do it yourself.”

  “The agreement was that this would end.”

  “I think we moved past that agreement a while ago.”

  “Since when?”

  “Don’t. Don’t pretend like you aren’t as deep in this as I am.”

  “We’re not deep in this, Lexie. This was just … It was an affair. As agreed. And now it’s over.”

  Even though I’d known it was coming, nothing prepared me for the loss I felt. My knees actually buckled and I pressed a hand to the top of my armchair for support.

  My reaction caused the first flicker of emotion on Caine’s face since the Delaneys’.

  “It wasn’t just an affair,” I whispered.

  “Of course it was.” Monotone. Again.

  It was like listening to someone touch polystyrene. I gritted my teeth in reaction. “Why is Mr. Cold Carraway back?” I wondered out loud, flinching at the bitterness I heard in my voice. “What secrets are you hiding? They must be big to bring this guy back. I thought I got rid of him weeks ago.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m only one man.”

  “No, you’re not.” I shook my head adamantly and took a step toward him. “I didn’t fall in love with that man I met on a photo shoot. Or the man who was my boss for weeks.”

  “Alex—”

  “I fell in love with Caine Carraway. I fell in the love with the man who teases me, laughs with me, listens to me, and respects me. A man who wakes me up every morning by making love to me, and then kisses me good night every evening after fucking the life out of me—like he can never get enough. No man has ever been as deep inside me as this man, in every way. And because of that when he looks at me he sees me like no one ever has before. That first man judged me, mistreated me. Caine Carraway did not. He made me feel safe for the first time in my whole life. I want him back. I love him. I want him back,” I pleaded.

  He wouldn’t look at me. He gave me his profile, staring into my kitchen.

  “Caine?”

  When he finally met my gaze his eyes were blazing with emotions, all so tightly knit I knew he was in turmoil. He was angry, he was distraught, he was desperate, and he was guilty, all in equal measure.

  “You don’t love me.” He shook his head. His voice sounded like sandpaper rasping against stone. “You can’t because you don’t know who I am. I never really let you.”

  We stared at each other and the tension between us pulled, like each of us was holding the end of a long piece of piano wire. One more tug and …

  “Liar,” I bit out finally, feeling a volcano of ugliness erupting from the pit of my stomach.

  “You don’t have to give me two weeks’ notice. Just give me a few days to find a replacement and I’ll release you from your contract.”

  “Coward.”

  His expression dulled again and he started toward me. “I’m not sticking around for this.”

  The smell of his cologne wrapped around me as he brushed past me, and that along with the heat of his body flooded me with memories of our time together. I’d never felt pain like it in my life. “That’s right,” I said, the words sounding as empty as Caine’s. “Don’t choose me. I’ve come to expect nothing less.”

  He hesitated a moment, his shoulders hunching up a little.

  I took a tentative step toward him and whispered, “I hope your secrets keep you warm at night.”

  And then just like that, he shrugged whatever emotion he’d been feeling off and marched out of my apartment for the last time.

  In the dark I stumbled in disbelief to my sofa, momentarily numb.

  I heard the sound of his car pulling away from my street and driving off into the distance. My belly-deep sob rose to chase after it.

  CHAPTER 24

  “You have four new messages.”

  I stared stonily at my answering machine. If it were up to me I’d be ignoring the little bastard, but the blinking red light on it lit up the dark when I switched off my bedroom light. If I wanted to pretend I was going to get some sleep tonight, I was going to have to listen to the messages or delete them so the blinking would cease.

  It had not been a good day.

  My face was swollen and puffy. I hadn’t eaten a thing. I drank two glasses of wine I’d then puked up, and because I hadn’t eaten anything it was just red liquid that came back up, and that had made me want to vomit again.

  My cell had rung, the chorus of Alanis Morrisette’s “You Oughta Know” flooding my apartment at least a dozen times, so I’d put it on silent. That didn’t work, because people just called the apartment instead and left messages on the answering machine.

  If I listened to the messages I had no doubt in my mind that they would make me feel worse.

  And yet I’d discovered that worse than the pain of watching the man I loved walk out on me was the cruel, grasping, cloying pain of that abysmal little thing called hope. It clung to me. It whispered in my ear.

  There’s still time.

  He could change his mind.

  When you walk into work tomorrow he’ll take one look at you and he’ll want you back.

  I hated that hope. I hated that it made me feel so weak and broken by him. Like without him, without that hope, I’d never, ever quite be the same again.

  I hated that he had that power over me.

  And I hated that that stupid hope had me thinking that perhaps one of the four messages was from Caine.

  He could have called to change his mind.

  Sighing impatiently at my pitifulness, I stabbed a finger at the button to listen to my messages.

  “You received a message today at nine oh seven … Lexie, it’s me,” my grandfather’s deep voice rumbled into the room. “I hate the way we left it last night, sweetheart. Call me. We need to talk …” Upon listening to the irritating answer service lady’s options, I deleted the message, needing to be numb from the pain he’d caused me too.

  “You received a message to
day at ten forty-four … Lexie. It’s Effie. What has happened? Caine wouldn’t let me into his apartment this morning. He was a snippy little shit and he’s never like that with me. He says he’s changing the locks. What’s going on? Call me right away.”

  The ache in my chest intensified at the panic in Effie’s voice. Caine was shutting her out too. I squeezed my eyes closed, rubbing at the throb of pain behind them. What on earth had I walked in on last night? What secret was he hiding that had set him off?

  I sighed and pressed the button again.

  “You received a message today at two twenty … Hey, it’s me,” Rachel greeted. “I’m just calling to see how the ball went last night. I still can’t believe you attend balls. Wait. Was it a ball? Or a gala? Or do you just call it a party? What is the difference and does anyone whose head isn’t up their ass actually give a fuck? Did you wear the Jenny Packham, you lucky bitch? Please tell me that hot Neanderthal didn’t rip it off your body and ruin a three-thousand-dollar dress. On second thought, don’t tell me anything. If my jealousy increases over a certain level, I will have to end our friendship. Anyway, gorgeous, call me. I want the delicious details …”

  Tears clogged my throat and I stubbornly swallowed them down. I’d cried enough tears today to fill a very deep well.

  I was done.

  I had to get a grip on myself so I could face Caine tomorrow with some goddamn dignity.

  Bracing myself, I pressed the button again … a little breathless with anticipation.

  “You received a message today at three oh two … Lexie.” Effie’s voice dashed my hope that I’d hear from Caine. “I just wanted you to know that Caine cooled down and he dropped by to see me … He told me what happened, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry. I’ve tried reasoning with him, but I … I think he’s hiding something. Just … don’t give up on him. When he goes Mr. Big Chill on me I know he’s feeling things deeper than usual. It’s his way of coping. I … Please don’t give up on him …”

  The familiar sharp stinging in my nose declared the arrival of my tears before I could halt them. The sound of Effie begging me to help someone we loved killed me. Because I wanted to … God, I wanted to if it meant Caine would come back to me …

  But … he hadn’t left a message.

  There was this huge part of me that was hurt beyond repair … a huge part of me that was so tired of coming in last with the people I loved. A huge part of me that was sick of doing all the saving.

  And I realized that more than anything right now I needed to take care of me. My whole life was up in the air … because of him.

  I had a heart to heal and a career to fix.

  I didn’t know if I had it in me quite yet to fight some more for Caine.

  CHAPTER 25

  The look on Caine’s face as he approached my desk the next morning tore apart any remnants of that hope I’d been holding on to. Although he wasn’t cold, he was carefully polite.

  I stood up from behind my desk as he came to a stop and there was a part of me that took pleasure at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. His features were drawn tight with tiredness. He was still beautiful but now in an unkempt way I wished wasn’t so appealing.

  It was nice to know that he was affected by our breakup. However, it didn’t change anything, and I could see that in the way he carefully nodded his greeting to me. “I’ve been in touch with an agency. They’re sending a temp out on Wednesday.”

  Panic gripped me.

  We had only today and tomorrow left together.

  It made me react without thinking. “Whatever it is you’re hiding, it won’t change how I feel about you.”

  Last-ditch effort.

  He stared me directly in the eye. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I am. But this is done now.” He took a step back. “Of course I’ll see to it that you get a month’s pay and you can use me as a reference.”

  “Tell me you don’t love me,” I said quietly to his retreating back.

  He froze at his door and then a few seconds later glanced over his shoulder at me. “I don’t.”

  I slumped back into my chair as he slammed inside his office.

  The hope shattered, slicing me to ribbons.

  So this is what this feels like.

  “Your schedule is on my computer, as are all your contacts, and notes from recent meetings that are relevant to matters that are still in progress.” I put a USB drive on his desk. “I’ve put them all on there for you because it’ll be better for your new PA to start with fresh information. If he or she has those notes it’ll confuse him or her, and that could be inconvenient for you. I kept notebooks on my daily duties along with instructions, as well as your personal preferences. There’s everything from standard e-mail and invite responses to your favorite dry cleaner.”

  I looked up from my notepad and locked eyes with a contemplative Caine.

  “Thank you, Alexa. That’s extremely helpful.”

  The careful politeness between us made me want to scream, but somehow I managed to curb that instinct, along with my inclination toward smart-assery. I wanted to end things between us with dignity. Not sarcastic shrewishness.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He looked down at the papers in front of his desk. “Do you have any prospects for a job? I can put you in touch with the temp agency I use.”

  “No, thank you,” I said quietly. “I think I’m going to take some time to reevaluate my career.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  I just managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. How could it be that I’d had sex with this man on his desk (more than once), and now we were acting like two complete strangers?

  That horrendous ache seemed to have taken up residence in every part of my body and it threatened to overpower me. I shook it off. “We have a meeting with Jeremy Ruger in forty minutes,” I reminded him.

  His gaze sharpened. “Ruger is obnoxious. You don’t have to go to that.”

  I knew Ruger was obnoxious. He was also the CFO at Winton Investments, a company that had gone from being small potatoes to a major player in the financial district in the last two years since Ruger took control of the company’s finances.

  When Linda, Caine’s CFO, had surprised him by announcing she was pregnant again and she and her husband had decided he should go back to work and she’d take some time to be with the kids, Caine started his search for a new CFO.

  We’d met Ruger at the party on Saturday night, and financial genius he might be, but he was also a grubby little sleazebag who spent most of the night chasing attractive wait staff.

  I didn’t have to go the meeting. The truth was I probably never needed to go to more than half the lunches and meetings Caine attended. But I suspected, like his peers who also always had someone with them, he brought me along to relax the atmosphere. He always said people who were relaxed were more amenable to persuasion.

  “I always come with you,” I reminded him. “And honestly I want to be in on this. I have to see what’s so special about this guy that you would put up with his crass jokes.”

  I thought Caine might protest at my being there because it would mean more time spent in my company, but he didn’t.

  We were leaving the building at lunchtime rush hour, and since the meeting was at a restaurant on Congress Street, we were walking there. In those crowds it would be easier to pretend that it was natural that we weren’t talking to each other.

  It didn’t start off great. We greeted colleagues who were packing up to go out for lunch and they chatted to us as we headed for the elevator. When Caine awkwardly guided me into the crowded box, I flinched at the feel of his hand on my lower back. He must have felt me tense, because he removed his hand with whiplike speed, as though he’d just dipped it in invisible fire.

  We stood together, our bodies touching because there was no way of avoiding it, and I gritted my teeth against the tension between us. Caine and I practically dove out of there when the ele
vator doors opened and we refused to look at each other.

  Taking the main exit, Caine held the door open for me and I muttered my thanks, stepping out into the dreary day. I walked into the busy sidewalk by our building and realized I was alone. Caine had been delayed at the door, talking to someone I didn’t recognize. It was a big company—I couldn’t keep tabs on who absolutely everyone was.

  Someone bumped into my shoulder and I stumbled back, attempting to move out of the way of the oncoming traffic of pedestrians. I looked over at Caine, saw he was on his way back to me, and stepped out onto the main sidewalk again.

  The blur of a body in black brushed right up against me.

  This sharp agonizing burn tore through my gut, the pain radiating throughout every nerve in my body.

  Stunned, I was incapable of processing anything but the pain.

  “Alexa?”

  The voice penetrated and I blinked, the unfocused vision of Caine’s concerned face appearing before me.

  Along with the pain I suddenly became aware of this wet warmth leaking on my belly. I looked down, my hands trembling as they sought out the problem.

  I felt the blood before I saw it.

  “Lex—what the …” I heard Caine’s voice.

  My legs buckled, my vision flickering out.

  “Lexie!”

  His panicked features blinked in and out of the darkness.

  “We need an ambulance! Call nine-one-one!”

  The darkness swam toward me.

  “Lexie, baby, hold on. Fuck, hold on.”

  To what? I thought before I floated away from the agony toward safety.

  CHAPTER 26

  There was tightness around my legs. I couldn’t move them freely and it felt like I was suffocating—too warm, needing air.

  I kicked and the covers around them began to give way.

  “Hey, hey,” a deep, soothing voice said in my ear, “Careful.”

  Caine?

  The beeping sound in the distance suddenly grew louder as I forced my eyes open. I blinked against the brightness of the unfamiliar room. I was in a bed. One much smaller than my own.

  At the foot of it stood my grandfather. “Grandpa?” I croaked, and then pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth. It was so dry.