She pursed her lips and looked away, her forehead knitted with worry, and large tears spilled forth and ran down her cheeks.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
I pulled her close, leaning her up against my chest, and brushed her tears away. With my touch, she seemed to give in to the pain and regret. She sort of deflated against me, placing a bracing hand on my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “None of this was fair to you. I really tried to stay away from you. I tried to fight how you made me feel.”
She had. Every time I thought we took a step forward together, she took two steps back, and it all made sense now as she quietly cried in my arms.
“I’m sorry for making you think that there could be something between us. The truth is I really wanted to believe it.” She pulled back a little and looked up at me, holding my gaze. “I knew it was just a fragile dream and that I would have to wake up and face reality, but I really wanted to stay in that safe little world with you.”
“You could have told me,” I said, my voice sounding gruff and irritated as I still reeled from the shock of it all.
She swallowed hard and pulled back a little more. “I’m so sorry…”
“I thought… fuck, I thought…”
I couldn’t finish it out loud.
I thought you loved me.
“Cody—”
Her eyes were fearful, but mostly they were anguished. It reflected on her face, in her stance, perched on the edge of the bed ready to run.
“You were going to leave tonight.”
She dropped her gaze in reproach. Her shoulders fell with her guilt. Inhaling a broken, shuddering breath, she nodded.
“I was.”
“You were going to just drive off in the night, not even saying goodbye.”
“I wasn’t supposed to care about you. I didn’t want to because I knew I’d have to leave.”
“No, that’s not it. You didn’t trust me,” I said.
Her luminous eyes lifted to meet mine, her lashes spiked with tears. She started to shake her head.
“How could I, Cody?” she cried. “I essentially kidnapped my child. I was breaking the law. There’s probably fucking warrants out for my arrest.”
“Was anything between us real?” I asked with a raw, burn in my chest. “I was… fuck, I told you I loved you, and you said I shouldn’t.”
She wrapped her arms around her gut and looked away. “And I was right. You shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”
I felt sick, hyper, and drained. It was pure agony, all of it. The whole situation seemed so hopeless.
“I’ll call Felicity in the morning, see what she thinks. She might have some connections. A way to keep you and Max safe.”
“How? He knows where I am. He’ll come after me.”
“I don’t know how, but we will. Felicity is a social worker, and her dad is the sheriff.”
I saw a glimpse of betrayal flash through her eyes, and then I could almost see her closing up right before my eyes. Freezing me out. “You’re going to turn me in, yet you wonder why I don’t trust you… why I don’t trust anyone.”
“He’s good and honest. He’ll make sure that fucker can’t hurt you.” I wanted to brush the tears from her cheek, but I clenched my hand and held it to my side.
“Right,” she whispered in disbelief, “I’ve heard that before.”
“Ilsa, it’s going to—”
“Do what you’ve got to do, Cody.” She stood and walked across the room to look out the window. Her voice was flat and hollow.
I didn’t know what to say. The tension radiated off her.
“Ils,” I started again, but she quickly turned and headed for my bedroom door. Standing, I went to stop her, but froze as she instantly cowered, a reflex that stopped me short.
With one last sad look, she opened my door and left the room. A moment later, I heard her go into the bedroom door down the hall.
After Ilsa confessed her sins, I went downstairs. I wanted to follow her into the spare room, to have her tell me it was all shit. That she wasn’t really married and I hadn’t really compromised my true-blue ideal of marriage. My mind reeled with everything she’d said.
I was just fucking blown away.
I ended up in the kitchen, mechanically reaching for the bottle of Jameson on top of the fridge. I sorta felt like I deserved a drink after everything she’d told me. A couple, really.
I didn’t mean to, but, by the time Drew and Justin got home, I’d gotten completely schnockered. The painful helplessness had mixed with the whisky and expanded the twisted turmoil that roiled in my gut until I was just flat pissed at myself. It turned me dark. The more I drank and the more the frustration soured in my stomach, the angrier I got.
I wanted to be pissed at her. To be self-righteous and furious at her for her dishonesty.
But, shit… I couldn’t blame her. Look what she’d been through. She was trying to survive something that could have killed her. I’d seen what it could do to a person with my own eyes. And she had Max to think about, too. No kid should grow up watching his mom getting thumped on, wondering if he was next.
So instead, I decided to be furious at the situation… at my own hope for a future with her. Something that had seemed such a sure thing just a short time ago.
I wanted to rage. I wanted to storm around in my anger. I wanted to hit something. Anger seemed like a safer emotion. If I was mad, I didn’t have to feel the vulnerability that was tearing through my soul. I could ignore the temptation to burst into that spare room, to wrap her in my arms and hold tight… to beg her to tell me that she loved me back.
And in the middle of my self-pity party, I wondered how I could've thought I really loved her.
I didn’t really know her.
“Cody?” Drew asked warily as he came in. I was slouched on the sofa, barely able to keep my eyes open with the bottle I had tucked up against my body. “You alright?”
I just sullenly shook my head.
“What happened with Ilsa?” Justin asked. “Brannon said there was some kind of emergency. Is she okay?”
“Nothing’s okay…” I slurred. “T’sall fucked up.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back, catching a glimpse of them trading concerned glances.
“Where’s she at, Cody?” Drew asked.
“Upstairs… spare room… trying to figure out how to get away from her husband.”
“Husband?” they both gasped.
“Yep,” I nodded and gave a caustic laugh, “turns out I was fucking a married woman.”
“Shit,” Drew breathed out.
“Holy fuck,” Justin muttered. “And you never knew?”
“I should have,” I moaned. “That girl… full of secrets… thought I loved her… didn’t know her at all.”
“Jeez, I’ll say,” Drew said.
Justin plopped down on the couch beside me and eased the bottle from my grasp. He took a long swig, swallowing slowly. “Wow,” he murmured. “Cody, man… I’m sorry.”
I eyed him through heavy lids. It occurred to me that it was the end of the world. My heart had been ripped right out of my chest, and Justin was being nice to me. Justin was never nice to me. Must be the rapture or some shit.
“Why the fuck are you being nice to me?” I blurted out. “You’re never nice to me, and it’s freaking me out.”
He gave me a quizzical look. “Um… fuck off, douchebag?” he said, making it sound like a question.
“That’s better,” I nodded, instantly wishing I hadn’t when a wave of nausea rolled through my head and down through my gut. I groaned, leaning forward to rub my hands over my forehead. “I should have listened more, asked more questions… or made her answer the ones I did ask. I knew she was hiding shit, but I never imagined this.”
“Lying bitch,” Drew muttered. “All women… they’re a bunch of lying bitches. The whole fucking lot of them.”
“She’s not
a bitch, you asshole,” I snarled.
“That’s bullshit, Cody. Women are fucking masters at shit like this, leading us around by our dicks while they play their little games,” Drew scornfully spat. “Fuckin’ Maggie… I know she’s fucking around on me. And this, Cody… God, you’re the nicest dude I’ve ever known, and for her to pull this over on you… that’s just fucked up.”
“She just…” I muttered, “she had to.”
“She had to lie to you?” he sneered, reaching out for the bottle.
“I’m with Drew on this,” Justin said as he handed it over. “She didn’t have to fucking lie to you. I’m telling you guys, just fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em, every one of them. Fuck ‘em all and leave them wanting more… but always leave ‘em.”
“No,” I said and shook my head drunkenly, swaying a little as the room continued to move before my eyes.
Drew pointed at me, and it took a minute for me to focus on his finger. “You’re too nice of a guy, Cody. Nice guys finish last.”
Justin nodded. “You’ll never fuckin’ understand women. That’s why you just fuck ‘em and go.”
“She fucking snowed you, man,” Drew said, taking another swig. “Totally used you and made you her safety net.”
“She had to,” I mumbled. “I was the only one she had.”
“Fuck that,” both of them responded.
The room swam before my eyes as I allowed Justin and Drew to continue their tirade. They didn’t get it. They wouldn’t get it.
My eyes started to drift closed, heavy with whiskey and regret. The more they drank and ranted, the more I wanted the solitude of my room. I wanted to forget. I wanted to slip into the oblivious darkness that the booze was offering.
I struggled to my feet, weaving a little. My legs felt weak and I paused a minute to give them a chance to solidify beneath me.
“Cody, dude,” Justin said as he started to follow, “need some help?”
“Fuck off,” I muttered, “I don’t need anyone.”
I stumbled to the stairs, missing the first one a couple times, but finally making my way to the top. Bracing myself with an arm out to touch the wall, I pitched and reeled down the hall towards my room. For a moment, I stared at the closed door to the spare room, my bitter remorse burning through my chest.
I should have just left her alone. Her life was in a shambles. She had tried to tell me without telling me so many times.
I can’t. There’s a lot of reasons I can’t.
You shouldn’t waste your time on me.
There can’t be a you and I.
She knew it. The last thing she should have done was hook up with me, and I’d pushed her to it. I’d kept at her, ignoring the signs, only concerned about what I wanted, not listening to her. Not really.
Somehow the wall reached out and grabbed me, causing me to stumble with a thump as I fell against it. For a moment, I used the solid support while the world stilled before me, and then I slowly moved on down the hall and fumbled with my doorknob. The fucking thing seemed to move when I tried to grab it, like I couldn’t quite catch it.
Then, a small hand reached out and turned it. Ilsa slipped an arm around my waist and guided me into my room, towards my bed.
For a minute, everything in me swelled. Her soft touch and sweet, warm scent. Heaven in my arms.
God, I loved her.
But I shouldn’t. She was married.
“No, you shouldn’t be in here,” I mumbled in a garbled voice.
“I know,” she whispered back, sounding broken and frail.
I straightened, stumbling away from her as I pulled my shirt over my head. I focused on the desire to go to sleep. I tried to block out everything around me. My shirt started pissing me off, though. It got hung up on my head, and I yanked on it a little harder, weaving as it came loose. I threw it to the floor, using my frustration to stiffen my spine as I tried so fucking hard to ignore her.
She stood across the room from me, and even in my schnockered state, I could feel her sorrow. Her worry. Her lonely heartsickness.
I jerked on the fly of my jeans, ripping open the buttons, and she turned away with belated modesty. I veered towards my bed, clumsy in my intoxication, as I tried to get off my jeans, only to realize I still had my work boots on.
Fuck.
Ilsa stepped forward and eased me back on the messy pile of blankets thrown haphazardly on the bed.
“Don’t…” My voice sounded distant, hanging on to the last shred of consciousness. “You’re married.”
She didn’t respond, just knelt before me and undid the laces of my work boots, pulling them off before she rose. She tugged down my jeans and pulled them from my legs, leaving me in my boxer briefs.
“Scoot up,” she said with a nudge towards the head of the bed. I flopped and fell until my head had reached the pillow. Reaching down, she started to pull up the blankets, covering my body.
Just before she turned away, I noted the tears trailing down her cheeks. I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards me.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you to be with me.”
She swallowed hard and turned her face away, but I tightened my grasp and rolled, taking her with me and holding her still with the weight of my body.
My fingertips trailed along her jaw as I stared down at her in a drunken haze. “I should have stayed away,” I ground out. “I never should have slept with you.”
She was fighting back tears, losing the battle, and a small, choked sob broke free.
“I've never known anyone like you,” I continued, “never wanted anyone so much… but I never should have touched you.”
I brushed my lips against hers.
“I should have been like Justin. I should have just stuck with the bar sluts. Fucked ‘em and left ‘em… and left you alone.” My lips trailed down her tear-streaked cheeks to her neck, biting little kisses along the tender skin. “I should have just had lots of empty, meaningless sex. Anything would be better than the way this feels now.”
She wasn’t even trying to hold back any longer, crying beneath me as my hands slipped down her body to the hem of the long T-shirt she wore to bed. With a groan, I lifted the fabric, shoving it up as I found my way back to her lips where I kissed her deeply, with all my pent up emotion pouring from my soul. I wanted to purge it from my system, to release this hopelessness that felt so awful.
But the minute I kissed her, the desperation for her alone took over. The promise of being one with her, of losing myself in her touch and her scent. Better than any whiskey, it numbed the pain that ripped through my chest.
I stripped the clothes from her body and made her moan for me. I overwhelmed her with my presence until she was panting with desire, until that need had her responding through her tears.
“I hate this,” I moaned as I slipped inside her. “I hate that I want you so much.” Through the haze of lust and alcohol, I saw more tears fall from her eyes. I saw the lonely shame color her cheeks.
I took her gently with slow strokes that made her sob. Deep into her body, twisting at her soul. Wanting her to ache and burn like I did.
I knowingly fucked another man’s wife, feeling like an asshole for going against everything I’d ever thought about marriage.
And she let me. Not even once did she try to pull away, to stop me. She held me, whispered how sorry she was, while she lifted her hips to meet my thrusts.
After I came inside her, after I touched pure beauty, the self-reproach came rushing back.
“Why did I have to fall in love with you?” I whispered into her neck. “God, I wish I’d never met you.”
If I had been just a little less intoxicated, I could have guarded my words a little better. I could have clarified that it was my guilt and regret for ignoring the red flags she’d thrown up all along. If I hadn’t met her, neither one of us would be hurting right now.
But as it was, as bombed and shattered as I was, I didn’t. I used her flood of hot, agonized tears as a substitute fo
r my own. Tears that chilled my skin when she pulled away, shaking with quiet sobs.
I stared at her lifelessly as she reached for her night shirt and slipped it on over her naked body.
“I’m so sorry, Cody,” she whispered, and stumbled from my bed to the door.
My heart felt rotten inside. Purulent. Festering with remorse and guilt and shame.
I should have gone after her. I knew she was hurting. I knew what I’d just done and said had hurt her even more. I should have followed her and told her… something… anything.
But I didn’t.
I lay there all alone in my bed with the scent of her all around me and I passed out cold.
I woke up feeling dead inside.
Everything I thought I’d known the day before had disappeared before my eyes. Things I’d thought about Ilsa. Things I’d thought about myself. I felt sick as the words I’d said to her last night came back to me. Her quiet crying seemed to reverberate through my head and echo through the still morning around me.
I had to help her.
I climbed out of bed and tugged on my jeans. My head was pounding so I stopped in the bathroom to grab some Tylenol. Coming out, I was face to face with the closed door of the spare bedroom.
I figured she was in there sleeping. As quiet as it was, Max had to be asleep at the very least. I almost knocked on the door anyway. I needed to apologize, to let her know that I was going to help her somehow. Yet, I didn’t. She needed the rest after all the shit that had gone down last night.
Instead, I went downstairs and started a pot of coffee. While it was brewing, I gave Denny a call.
“Cody?” he answered. “Is everything okay? What happened last night?”
“Are you and Felicity busy today?” I asked. “Ilsa is in some trouble, and it might be something that Felicity can help her with.”
“Sure, we can pop over,” he replied, no questions or judgments. Denny was seriously one of the best guys around. “Just give Fliss a bit of time to get ready.”
“She’s married,” I began. Denny and Felicity both looked utterly shocked. “I didn’t know it until yesterday.”
Easy Little Lick (Copperline #3) Page 16
