This Cruel Love (A Dark Hearts Stand-Alone Novel Book 2)

by Nikki J Summers

  “Oh, but I think you do.”

  He stood up from behind his desk, and that’s when I realised what a truly formidable man this Jackson Caine was. He was taller than Justin, with a solid, manly build. The black suit he wore was tailored to perfection on his body. His legs looked like columns of pure, powerful muscle as he strode out from behind his desk. The air of dominance and authority that’d swirled around him before was stifling now; drowning us in its force. This man was a powerhouse of control and supremacy. I felt totally and utterly inadequate. I needed to up my game. My plans to manipulate and dominate were sadly lacking. It was as if Mr Jackson Caine was on a different level to the rest of us. He was immune to any charm I brought to the proceedings, that was for sure.

  He stood in front of us and leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He glanced at Justin, then at me, and when our eyes met again, I felt my skin start to perspire. My breathing became heavier and more laboured under the intensity of his stare. This time he wasn’t just looking at me, he was appraising me, and not in a good way. I felt naked and exposed. Despite making me feel so undone, for the life of me, I couldn’t break eye contact. I couldn’t admit defeat or show any hint of weakness.

  “We have nothing… I have nothing,” Justin piped up.

  Without taking his eyes off mine, Jackson Caine gestured to me with his right hand.

  “You have her.”

  “What?” I screwed up my face in disgust. What the hell was he suggesting? That Justin pimp me out for payment? That I prostitute myself to pay his debts? Hell and freezing over came to mind. I loved Justin, but I had my limits.

  “I’m not some object he owns, you know. I don’t belong to anyone.”

  He had the audacity to smirk at me. I wanted to slap it right off his smug-ass face. His very handsome, rugged and tanned face, but smug all the same.

  “Ryley isn’t on the table here. That’s non-negotiable,” Justin said, without the unwavering conviction in his tone of voice that I’d have expected from him.

  The image of me being some kind of sacrifice on any table made my skin crawl, and I held my free hand over my stomach.

  Jackson Caine’s eyes followed where my hand lay and he raised an eyebrow.

  “Got something you want to share? A new addition in a few months maybe?”

  “I’m not pregnant!” I spat out in shock. What business was it of his even if I was? “I just feel sick to the stomach at the thought of what you’re suggesting, Mr Caine.”

  “Which is…?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly, but I’m not gonna sleep with you to pay off Justin’s debts.”

  He rubbed over his stubbly, square jaw, then pushed his hand through his brown, wavy hair, temporarily pushing it out of his eyes, before it fell over his forehead again. He was frowning now. What the hell was going on in this guy’s head? I couldn’t second guess him. He pinned me with a forceful, dare I say, seductive stare before he spoke again.

  “I don’t force women into my bed, Miss…” He raised his brows in my direction, taking pleasure in showing me he didn’t know who I was either.

  “Emerson. Ryley Emerson.” My voice sounded smaller than I expected.

  “As I was saying, I don’t need to force women into my bed, Miss… Emerson. When you come to my bed, it’ll be because you’re begging for it.”

  Justin gave a low growl, but I just laughed at him. He had no idea who he was dealing with. I was no push over in that department.

  “Oh, I don’t beg, Mr Caine. I don’t have to.”

  I leant to the side and rested my head on Justin’s shoulder, as he snaked an arm around my waist to secure me closer to him. Surprisingly, this seemed to piss Jackson Caine off more. Was he jealous?

  His face took on a mask of pure fury in reaction to our little display of affection. He pushed away from his desk and walked over to stand directly in front of us, no doubt to intimidate us further. He eyed Justin in some show of male dominance, taking his time to scope him out before he made his next move.

  “One month. With her. In my apartment. Then I’ll write all your debts off. The whole debt… gone.”

  He flicked his hands like some kind of magician to symbolise something vanishing. His arrogant smirk made me want to smash something. I gasped and Justin just shook his head, muttering, “No way. No. That’s not happening.”

  I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t hold back.

  “Are you deaf as well as insane? I said I wouldn’t sleep with you. What makes you think I’d spend a month with you?”

  “I didn’t say anything about fucking, did I? I said one month. Living in my apartment-”

  “For what? The pleasure of my company?” I laughed a nervous laugh, but he didn’t share in my humour. His face was deadly serious.

  “You could say that. I have certain… contracts that I’m trying to get signed off, applications with local government. Having you on my arm at these functions I’m forced to attend could help with that. You see, I don’t have the best reputation in this city-”

  “You don’t say!”

  I couldn’t hold my tongue. The insults just rolled off of their own accord, and the flash of indignation behind his eyes told me I’d pissed him off. Good.

  “Having a steady girlfriend, albeit a fake as shit one, would go a long way to improving that for me.”

  The way he emphasised the word fake told me he thought I was a fake, a phoney. One of those women who lives life for what she can get; the designer clothes, handbags, jewellery, cars, you name it. He had me all wrong, and although it shouldn’t have bothered me, it did.

  “You’d be expected to attend as my significant other and use your influence to get me what I want; and no, Ryley, it isn’t sex I’m after. I can get that anywhere, anytime I want. It’s the appearance of an ideal these people seem to want to be associated with that I’m looking for. The normality that they’ll readily do business with. Doesn’t matter what the sick fucks get up to behind closed doors. They want squeaky clean when it comes to business. That’s where you come in, Ryley.”

  He said my name like it was a dirty thing. Jeez, this asshole loved himself. I frowned though. What kind of influence did he think I’d have? A twenty-three-year-old who’d buried her head in books and university for years. I felt like a fish out of water at most parties, let alone a function like he was describing. That sounded more like my parents’ domain. Maybe that’s what he was getting at? Did he want to cash in on my parents’ name? I shrugged that thought off straight away; he had no idea who I was. He hadn’t even know my name when I’d walked in. No, he just figured I was a pretty piece of arm candy who could sweet talk the men in the room. Maybe my manipulative skills hadn’t gone unnoticed after all.

  “I won’t say it again, Caine. You’re not getting Ryley.”

  Justin tugged on my arm and I looked at him, shocked to see how much he was hurting at the thought of me being with someone else.

  “It’s not happening, babe. Don’t even think about it.” I brushed my free hand down Justin’s face. He smiled down at me, causing warm waves to smother the butterflies—or were they wasps—that’d set up residence in my stomach since we’d entered this room.

  “Looks like you’ve got three days left then.”

  Jackson Caine turned his back on us, and sat down behind his desk, engrossed in his laptop and ignoring us as he read something far more pressing on the screen. The man was so arrogant, he couldn’t even dismiss us with some degree of dignity. He just shut us out as if we were less than nothing, which to him, we were.

  “If that’s all, please leave. I’ll expect payment by midday Friday, as usual.”

  Justin and I looked at each other. He shrugged, and we walked out feeling completely defeated. We’d achieved nothing and everything felt desperate and hopeless.

  “That went well,” I said sarcastically, as I slumped onto the couch and sighed out my frustration. It didn’t help. I still felt like smashing and br
eaking stuff in anger.

  “What did you expect? I told you he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? He’s got nothing to gain from making a deal with us.”

  “Except me,” I bit back, and instantly regretted that it’d come out of my mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  He threw his jacket down on the seat next to me and stormed off to the bedroom, leaving me feeling guilty about anything and everything. Sometimes my mouth ran on a different time zone to my brain.

  I got up and wandered over to the bedroom door to apologise, only to find him getting dressed up as if he was going out somewhere.

  “What’s going on? Are you going out?”

  I felt nervous and timid all of a sudden. Tiptoeing around him and scared of what his reaction might be.

  “I’ve got somewhere I need to be. Is that okay with you?” he snapped, and the look on his face told me he was probably imagining what a month in the company of a man like Jackson Caine would really involve for me.

  “I’m not your keeper, Justin. But it’d be nice to know where you are. I worry.” He smirked and shook his head. Why was he letting what’d happened in that man’s office get between us? “Don’t do this, Justin.”

  “Do what?”

  He was angry now. He rarely got angry, and never with me.

  “You’re pushing me away.”

  He let out a huge sigh as he looked up to the ceiling, then walked over to where I stood holding my breath. He held me in a tight hug, burying his nose in my hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I just hate the thought of that man anywhere near you.”

  “He’s not going to get near me.” I hugged him back, standing on my tiptoes and burying my face into the crook of his neck. It was my favourite place to be. “I don’t want him anywhere near me. Only you.”

  He pulled back and held my face in both of his hands as he kissed me with such warmth and delicacy that I felt like my heart would break.

  “I won’t be gone for long, princess, I swear. I just need to get out, okay?”

  He searched my eyes with his, looking for some kind of approval. I nodded back, trying to look like I was okay and on board with him constantly bailing on me since I’d come back to town.

  “Don’t be too long. I get lonely without you. And Justin? Please don’t do anything stupid.”

  I hated being on my own at the best of times, but in Justin’s apartment it was a million times worse, because everywhere I looked there were reminders of him. Damn, the whole place smelt like him, and it made me pine for him when he was gone. It was ridiculous to think that any man could come between us, especially one as cold and heartless as Jackson Caine. I would never let that happen, never in a million years.

  An hour turned into a few hours, then before I knew it the sky was pitch black and my eyes were growing heavy. I’d waited up long enough for him, and now I couldn’t fight the tiredness anymore. So, I fell into bed, alone and slightly pissed off that he hadn’t even responded to my texts or calls to let me know he was alright. Since when had Justin become so inconsiderate?

  I drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, and when I heard distant, muffled sounds, at first I thought they weren’t real, just extensions of my dreaming mind. Then suddenly, a crashing sound made me shoot up into a sitting position in bed. My heart was hammering out of my chest, and the adrenaline shooting through my system made my stomach churn. Was this Caine’s men, back again to take what they thought we owed them?

  I threw the covers off, and grabbed the baseball bat that Justin kept in the corner of the bedroom, to give me some element of self-protection. What good it’d be was debateable. I wasn’t the best sports person. I’d probably have more luck making an intruder laugh to death with my weak-ass swing than successfully whacking them. But it helped make me feel slightly less vulnerable. I followed the noise to the bathroom, and when I slammed open the door to surprise the trespasser, my heart sank at the image in front of me. An image that’d be ingrained in my mind for as long as I lived.

  Justin was part lying, part sitting up against the bathtub. His shirt was off and his arm was wrapped above the elbow with some kind of tourniquet. A needle hung out of his arm, but that wasn’t the worst part. It was the vacant, lifeless stare in his eyes. Pupils fixed, dilated and looking into nowhere. That was what filled my heart with dread and made me cry out. The way his limbs were slumped into an uncomfortable position made him look like he’d been dumped there, but I knew he’d done this to himself. This was all on him. No one else had wrapped his arm up or stuck that needle into him.

  I screamed his name over and over again, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t even flinch at my ranting, and his blue lips remained slack and unresponsive. I was in full on panic mode, and even though I was screaming, shouting, trying to get through to him, I couldn’t touch him. I couldn’t bear to look at the needle that hung out of him. Was he dead? Was this how he was going to leave me; heartbroken and alone, with this as my final image of him?

  I couldn’t stop shaking, but my automatic pilot gear eventually kicked in. I raced to get my mobile and rang for an ambulance.

  “Is he still breathing?” the operator asked me, but I was all over the place and I hadn’t even checked.

  “I don’t know,” I cried, desperate and out of my mind with fear.

  I reluctantly reached out to touch his arm, the one with the offending needle, and I held his wrist to see if I could feel for a pulse. It was there; weak, but still pulsing, thank God.

  “He’s still alive… just… please hurry. I don’t know how long he’s got left.”

  I felt totally out of my depth. I had no idea what to do for the best, but I knew I couldn’t handle this on my own. If by some miracle he managed to survive this night, then we needed help. Justin had to get professional help. We wouldn’t survive if it was left up to me to get him out of this. Love wasn’t strong enough when faced with these kinds of demons.

  It felt like hours to my panicked state of mind, but minutes later I heard the doorbell. I ran to let the paramedics into the apartment and guided them through to the bathroom, where Justin lay hanging on by a thread. I knelt down beside him, holding his hand and willing him to come round as they did their vital checks. They asked me questions about what he’d taken, when and how much, but I could barely string a sentence together. Obviously, I had no clue. I wasn’t with him when he’d done this to himself. I felt totally and utterly helpless.

  They administered some drug, which they informed me was widely used to reverse the effects of an opioid overdose. Then they cleaned Justin up, moving him into the bedroom and dropping him onto the bed without the care I would’ve expected from medical professionals such as they were.

  “Is he going to be okay? Don’t you need to take him into hospital for further checks?” I asked, praying they’d tell me he’d be checked in for observation and some one-to-one professional medical care that I believed he desperately needed.

  “Your man here will be fine once it all wears off. Well, as okay as a drug addict like him can be,” the older of the two men informed me. “He’s got a serious addiction. That’s painfully clear, love.”

  He smiled kindly at me then, and I fought the urge to go to him for a hug.

  “I’m guessing this is all new for you? You’ve never seen him like this before?”

  I shook my head and let silent tears fall down my already dampened cheeks.

  “You look about the same age as my daughter. Early twenties? Am I about right?”

  I nodded, waiting for him to impart some gem of knowledge in how to deal with Justin and his drug addiction that he was ready to gift to me.

  “If you were my daughter, I’d tell you to run. Get as far away from this junkie as you can.”

  My heart sank again and I gasped, totally taken aback by his candid admission.

  “You can’t help him, sweetheart. He’ll only drag you down with him. He needs to want the help, and his brand of addiction needs some heavy duty professional
counselling. It wouldn’t be an easy road.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me, as if he expected me to agree and walk out the door.

  “But I love him. I can’t just walk away. I’m all he’s got.”

  I wasn’t a quitter. I wouldn’t leave just because the going got a bit tough. No, I was a fighter and I didn’t care what it’d take. I’d fight to get Justin through this.

  “He’s a very lucky guy, having someone like you by his side. I hope he knows that,” the younger man piped up.

  Lord, these men must’ve thought I was the biggest doormat ever, picking up the pieces like I was.

  “What should I do tonight? How can I help him?” I pleaded.

  “Just stay by his side. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. If he gets worse, feel free to call us back, but he shouldn’t. For now, it’s just a waiting game. He needs time to come round.”

  My inner strength was building, but my heart was breaking.

  I spent my night watching Justin like a hawk, ready to jump into action should he need me. He barely moved, let alone registered where he was or that I was there. By morning, I was growing restless. I had a plan forming in my mind. A plan to deal with the debt and the addiction, but I needed to do some negotiating of my own. It was time to take matters into my own hands.

  I rang Liam, one of Justin’s best friends from high school, and asked him if he’d pop over to the apartment as soon as he could. He answered the phone with his usual flirty banter, but when I mentioned that Justin needed his help he changed instantly, and was reluctant to come. I soon talked him round, and within the hour he was on our doorstep, giving me puppy dog eyes, and telling me I deserved better than the waster that was his best friend.

  “I haven’t called you round here to discuss my relationship, Liam. I just need you to stay here and watch Justin.”

  I knew as soon as I’d said it that it sounded ridiculous, as if I was asking him to watch a dog or a baby.