“Don’t give me too much credit. I had several breakdowns last night.” I tried to smile, but he didn’t find that funny.
Why did I tell him that?
He was going to be impossible.
I continued to eat my breakfast. Cary really was a good cook. After I finished, he told me to leave the dishes. Sabrina would take care of it. I forgot someone else was in the house. “She’s quiet.”
Cary nodded, extended his hand, and led me to the couch. “What do you want to watch?”
“I better head home.”
“No need. I have rung Mamaw.”
Anger quickly rose, and I was going to cry—and punch him at the same time. Mamaw was going to have another stroke. “You what?”
“Settle down. I told her we had plans for today and you forgot to let someone know. I tried Blake, but he wasn’t answering. So, I rang Mamaw. This gives you time to recoup for another day without facing her.”
The anger stopped, but the tears didn’t. “Thank you.”
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Not sure. I think I’m still dealing with what happened.”
“It’ll take time, but we’ll get through it.”
Hearing him say the word we made my tears fall harder. I knew I wasn’t alone, but to hear it meant everything. I was walking a thin line, trying to hold back feelings for Cary, but I needed him.
“Cary . . .” I broke down and laid my head on his chest.
“Shhh. Everything will be all right, love.”
The door opened. “Lauren, how are you feeling? I heard you were in an accident?” I recognized Carmen’s voice from earlier.
I grudgingly pulled myself off Cary. “Nothing major, thank God.”
Carmen was an older, very attractive, tall Native American woman. She pulled her long, black hair over one shoulder and grinned at me.
“Good to see you, Carmen. It’s been a while.”
“You look good, considering. Joel and I bought a few DVDs. Cary felt you would think his collection was inadequate.”
Cary shrugged.
“Why would you think that?” I wondered.
He had every electronic gizmo, and his entertainment center held hundreds of movies and CDs.
“He wanted to make sure he had what you liked,” Carmen said with a sly smile.
“Cary. You’re doing too much. What do I need that you don’t have?”
“Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain,” he said casually.
I paused, and looked at him. Cary speaking French was freakin’ hot.
“Cary, how did you know?”
“How could I not? I remember seeing that very worn-out DVD at Mamaw’s house.”
As busy as he was, Cary remembered one of my favorite movies was Amélie. “Thank you.”
“Cary, can I speak with you?” a deep voice said.
Joel was young, twenty-something, and boyishly attractive; even with the scar above his right eyebrow that was partially covered his brown, curly hair. He had a bodybuilder’s physique, and his dimples were adorable when he smiled.
“Hi, Joel.”
“Lauren, I’m glad you’re okay,” the gentle giant said.
“So am I. It’s been a while.”
“You were gone. Minneapolis, right?”
“Yes.” That reminded me. “Hey, I thought I saw you one day in my room.”
“What!” they all said in unison.
“Maybe I should explain. One night when I was sick, I heard noises in my bedroom. I thought I was awake, but, evidently, I was dreaming. I saw someone who looked similar to you from behind, Joel. He was wrestling with something. It scared me at first, but because I had a high fever, I figured, I must’ve be dreaming. Weird, huh?”
They all stared at me for a moment.
“Yeah. That’s weird.” Joel winked. “How many dreams do you have about me, Lauren?”
“Um, a few.”
“A few?” Cary sounded shocked.
I looked at Carmen, not wanting any misunderstanding. “I dream about everybody—some more frequent, in a good way, not a bad way.”
“Well, that’s interesting.” Carmen grinned.
“Joel, I figured it’s because you’re so . . . huge, like a big teddy bear.” I chuckled. “My subconscious sees you as my protector, I guess.”
They were quiet for too long. I thought I was being funny, but again, the medicine was getting to me. “Reminder. I’m on painkillers. Makes me loopy and say the craziest things.”
They forced out chuckles to humor me.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Lauren. Cary.” Joel nudged him.
As Joel walked past me out the room, I froze at the familiar sweet floral scent coming off him. I had smelled it before. When I was lying on the street, thinking I was unconscious.
Last night, a gust of the same heady fragrance saturated the air at the same time I heard the sounds of birds’ wings.
Many people wore the same cologne.
But, that fragrance was strangely unique—not the typical manly fragrance.
Uneasiness continued to hover around me, and I couldn’t shake those images.
I pondered all that as Carmen set up the movie. “I’ll be right back, Carmen.”
“Need help?”
“No, thanks.”
I needed to take my meds, and check in on Jackson. I lifted myself off the couch and headed to the bathroom. As I checked my cell phone, I saw I had a couple missed calls and several texts from Jackson.
He apologized about David and not telling me about New York. I texted back letting him know all was forgiven, and I would call him later after his interviews. I decided not to mention the shooting. He would feel responsible, and I didn’t want to deal with his guilt.
Not realizing Joel was talking to Cary in the guestroom, I started to open the door and heard Joel. “ . . . see me? We need to bring this up. And man, you two seem to be getting closer.”
“We’ve always been close.”
“You know where this can lead, Cary.”
“I know.”
“Look, man. I see the way you look at her, and the way you cover her, as if she’s yours to cover.”
“I know she’s not mine!” Cary hissed.
“It’s starting to affect you.”
“Joel, you need to focus on him.”
“I can handle him.”
“What about the others?”
“They’re under surveillance. Cary, you feel nothing for her?”
“Of course I feel something for her, but it doesn’t matter.”
“Lauren, is everything all right?” Carmen called from the living room.
I shut the door and hurried to the bathroom. Then I heard the bedroom door open then close.
Hearing the agony in Cary’s voice, regarding some woman who was tormenting him, cracked my heart. The girl he was speaking about earlier meant more to him than I knew. It was obvious he cared for her deeply. I thought I used to hear that in his voice when he would mention me.
I stood very still, staring at myself in the mirror, thinking. Cary was keeping something from me for a reason. If I asked him again, he’d blow it off. He seemed very determined to keep me in the dark.
Maybe being in the dark was a good thing.
However, it was too late. Something had shifted, and I had to know.
Carmen gave me a weird look when I shuffled over to the couch. “Are you okay, Lauren? You look out of it?”
“I’m fine. I just . . . I think it’s the medication. It’s giving me some strange side effects.” She nodded in understanding and turned back to watch the movie.
Cary and Joel returned to the living room. They both looked at me, and it was hard hiding my discontent. Cary appeared concerned, and I could tell he sensed the change in my attitude.
“Hey, it was good to see you, Lauren,” Joel said. “Carmen, you ready?”
Joel and Carmen walked to the door with Cary. I waved and turned back to the mov
ie. I felt their stares from behind me. They spoke with hushed voices, then the door shut.
A worried-looking Cary sat down next to me. “Is there anything you need? Are you comfortable?”
I shook my head.
“Does that mean you’re okay?”
I nodded.
“Lauren, why are you not speaking?”
“I don’t want us to get in an argument.”
“Why would we get in an argument?”
“I know you’re keeping something from me, Cary.”
He pulled his hand through his hair. He wore the strangest expression—a mix of frustrated, nervous, and uncomfortable.
All I could do was glare at him. “Come on, Cary, what are you hiding from me?”
“Lauren, I told you everything you needed to know.”
I knew he wouldn’t tell me, and I wanted to know why he didn’t trust me. The crack in my heart grew larger. However, I knew if I pushed, it was not going to end well.
I tried to blow it off, so I crawled into his arms and rested my head on his chest. I wasn’t sure if it was okay with him, but I didn’t care. I wanted, and needed, him.
His entire being was tense at first, but finally, he inhaled deeply and let go. He pulled us farther back on the couch, grabbed the blanket, and threw it over us. I could feel him staring at me as I watched the movie, before I drifted off to sleep.
Cary’s cell phone woke me. “Sorry, it’s my mobile.” He sat us up and answered it. “Cary.”
I watched as he listened, his eyes kept widening and his face became distorted.
“What is bloody happening?” he yelled. “How’s that my fault? Where is he?” He looked over to me. “I’m on my way.” He snapped the phone shut. “I need to step out for a while. Sabrina is here if you need anything.”
He moved me off him, jumped up, and looked around the room.
“Cary, where are you going?”
“Not important.”
I stood and went to him. “Look at me. Look at me, Cary!”
But, he wouldn’t. Anger was in his eyes, and he clenched his teeth. He tried to flash one of his fake smiles at me.
It didn’t work.
I crossed my arms and firmly planted both feet. He was going nowhere until he told me. “I’m going to scream bloody murder if you don’t stop hiding things from me, Cary. Tell me. Now!”
He sighed heavily, glanced at me, then dropped his head. “I messed up.”
“How?”
“I should’ve been there for him last night.”
“For who?”
“Blake.”
That was all he had to say for panic to take over.
He watched my face. “Lauren? Oh no, he’s fine. He’s in trouble, but he’s safe.”
Last night I left Blake at the party, alone, and drinking. If something happened to him. “Cary?”
“We need to go. I don’t have time to explain or argue with you about you staying here. Blake’s in jail.”
“What! Why?”
“I’ll give you details in the car.”
Cary’s eyes were on the road, but he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He hadn’t spoken since we left his apartment.
“Cary, slow down! One near-death experience this week is plenty.”
“Sorry.”
I knew he wasn’t talking to Blake on the phone, but whoever it was, gave him an earful.
“What’s going on?”
“Remember when I told you we needed to pay closer attention to Blake? Well, I let him down. I should’ve been there for him last night.”
“I was there with him. I was the one who left him alone, knowing he was drinking.”
“Lauren, this is not your fault. I knew it would be hard for him, and what you told me about the party, there’s more he could’ve gotten into.” Cary struggled to get out the next words. “He called last night, asking me to pick him up. I told him I was on my way, then you rang. I rang him back and told him an emergency came up, and I would be there as soon as I could. After seeing you, Blake slipped my mind.” He punched the steering wheel. “I didn’t even remember this morning when I tried to reach him.”
“If I wasn’t so stupid—” I said under my breath, but Cary still heard me.
“Lauren!” he shouted, taking a slow, deep breath. “A bullet hit you. You were my first priority. Blake, well, he should’ve been more bloody responsible.”
“But, I never should have left him alone, Cary. I was too focused on getting out of there, and I was sidetracked. What kind of sister does that make me?”
“You did nothing wrong, love. Blake’s an adult. Been one for a while.”
“We should’ve been there.”
“Yes, but you’re not blaming yourself for something he chose to do.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Cary hesitated, but started explaining. “There was a restaurant bar in the hotel where I told him to meet me. Apparently, he was drinking non-stop. The more he drank, the hotter he got.” He glanced over.
“Hotter he got?”
Cary’s face flushed. “I can’t explain why the bloke was hot. All I know was that he took off his jacket and shirt. I guess the barman figured, it’s Bourbon Street, he’s seen worse, and he allowed it.”
“So, he’s drinking in a bar with no shirt on?”
“There’s more.” Cary paused. “Blake continued drinking, and thought it was fine to take off his pants.”
“He took off his pants?”
“He was off his face, Lauren. He ended up getting into an altercation with the barman. No shirt is acceptable, but no pants, that’s absurd. They tried to get him to put on his clothes, but he wanted to row with them, and he professed he, ‘enjoyed drinking naked.’”
He gave me a moment to digest everything he said.
“My brother is drinking to the point where he thinks it’s okay to strip naked in a bar?”
Cary squirmed in his seat. “I told you I was concerned. We all were. He’s been going downhill fast.”
“Why wasn’t I told about this sooner? I would’ve come home earlier.”
“Lauren, you were in the best place for you. Blake needs to help himself. Not bring you into it.”
“How can you say that? He’s my brother. I’ll do whatever I have to for him.”
“Exactly my point. You take care of everyone else before yourself. You cannot look after Blake twenty-four seven. Do you want to hear the rest?”
“There’s more?” My stomach turned.
“Unfortunately. Security threw him out of the restaurant. For some reason, Blake decided not to cab home, but to sleep it off in the hotel’s lobby.”
“Why didn’t he call again? Or try someone else when you didn’t show?”
“Brilliant question. I assume he was too tanked. Then, the hotel contacted the coppers when they found him asleep on the floor. They arrested him for public intoxication, and I’m not sure if he had clothes on. They didn’t mention that.”
There was nothing to say after that.
We arrived at the police station, and sat in the car for a moment. I needed to ease the nausea that had taken over.
“Why does Blake do this stuff, Cary?” I sighed, tired and frustrated.
“I want to tell you my guess, but I can’t betray his trust. Under the circumstances, I’ll say that ever since your father died and your mum . . . you know, he tried, Lauren. He tried being strong. He thought by putting on your father’s shoes that he could be him for you. However, Blake didn’t realize he couldn’t fit those shoes, and they weren’t his to wear in the first place. He needs to come to terms with the reality dealt to him. Drowning himself in booze and music has seemed to be his only way.”
We sat in the car for a little while longer before he looked at me.
“Are you ready?”
I shook my head no. How ready could I be?
He came around and opened my door. “While we’re here, Lauren, you can
fill out your statement.”
“Goody.”
Blake was surprised to see us; he hadn’t called anyone yet. Cary skirted around who called him, explaining a friend saw it all unfold.
As Cary drove us to Mamaw’s house, Blake explained as much as he could remember. It was similar to Cary’s version.
“What do you want me to say, Sis?” A sheepish smile crept across Blake’s face.
That made me angry.
“You are not going to blow this off this time. Arrested! Really, Blake?”
“Lauren, it was a mistake.”
“You got that right. You don’t think, Blake. What about Mamaw? You could have been hurt, or worse!”
“She’ll never find out. Everything ended up fine!”
“Don’t yell at me! And fine? You’re the one drinking at bars, naked!”
“I told you, I don’t know what happened.” Blake’s unsteady voice betrayed him.
“You really messed up,” Cary threw in.
“What the hell is going on with you, Blake? Why are you drinking like a lush?”
“Lauren, I lost track. That’s all. It was a party. I can control my drinking.”
“You think you can control your drinking? I know this isn’t the first time—”
“Bro, you told my sister?” Blake snapped at Cary.
I looked over at Cary apologetically. “Don’t blame him. He got your ass out of jail. And Cary didn’t tell me anything, Blake. It’s not the first time you decided to go on a drinking binge, so one can assume.” My heart was pounding through my chest. I needed to calm down. “Look, I love you, Blake. I’m afraid . . . augh, I cannot lose you, too,” I sobbed out.
Everyone was quiet.
“Lauren, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll protect you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want your protection. I want my brother. Is this all because of Mom and Dad?”
“Why does everything have to be about them?”
“Isn’t it?” Cary asked.
“Damn it man, shut up!”
“Don’t yell at him, Blake. It is about Mom and Dad.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Then what? What is causing you to drink? Talk to me. I understand. It’s not as though I haven’t tried to find an escape.”
“Lauren?” Cary and Blake both yelled.
“It’s the truth, and I’m far from being innocent. All I’m saying is there are different ways to escape your problems. Drinking may seem the easy solution, but there are better ways to deal with it, Blake. Trust me, I know.”
The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1) Page 14
