All Cried Out (All Falls Down Book 2)

by Ayden K. Morgen

  This isn't Lexi's fault, and taking it out on her isn't fair.

  Evans stares at me for a moment before turning to her. "Go inside, babe."

  She opens her mouth to argue with him, then looks at me and snaps it closed. "Fix this," she says, shaking her head sadly and walking into the house. Disappointment pours from her in waves.

  Shit.

  I hang my head, feeling like a complete bastard.

  Evans pulls the door closed behind her and steps outside with me. He straightens up, getting right in my face. "You know I like you, and I get that you've been through hell lately," he says, his voice lethally soft. "But talk to Lexi like that ever again and I will put you down. She doesn't deserve that shit from you, and you know it. You treat her with respect or you answer to me, you feel me?"

  I take a deep breath and blow it out. "Yeah," I say, raking a hand through my hair, "I feel you. I shouldn't have said that."

  "No, you shouldn't have."

  We stand there for a moment and then I sigh.

  "Tell me she's okay, Drake."

  "She's not okay," he says immediately, shaking his head. "I don't know what you did, but she's a mess. Lexi and Kit could barely get anything out of her. She spent half the night hunched over the toilet, and the other half sobbing. She finally cried herself to sleep about an hour ago."

  "Fuck." I tip my head back, my stomach twisting as another wave of pain and guilt crashes down on me. The fact that she's hurting because of me rips at my heart, shredding vital little pieces of me. Once again, I've broken her heart, let her down.

  "What the fuck did you do?" Evans asks, leaning back against one of the pillars on the porch, watching my intently. He has to be as exhausted as I am, because I know damn well he's gotten as little sleep as I have lately, but he looks wide awake, completely calm and put together. His bald head shines in the early morning sunlight, his sleeves are rolled up his massive arms, not a wrinkle in sight.

  I look like shit. My hair is all over the place. I haven't shaved in two or three days. Deep bruises ring my eyes, and I'm in the same clothes I wore yesterday. My entire body hurts like I've been in the gym for hours instead of pacing around the living room, trying to give Savannah a little space before I rushed over here to beg for her to forgive me.

  "Her mother walked out on her when she was fourteen," I mutter, leaning against the pillar across from Evans. "The day of Chris and Demetri's reception, she showed up in town. I didn't tell Savannah because I didn't know what she wanted from my girl, and I wasn't about to let anyone else her hurt." I laugh humorlessly. "Guess I did a good enough job of that on my own, huh?"

  "Damn," Evans says.

  "Yeah," I sigh. "Anyway, Melinda realized this wasn't the best time to try to find a place in Savannah's life, so she left town last night without seeing Savannah. And I didn't even try to stop her."

  "Damn," he says again.

  I scrub my hands down my face. I'm so tired, it's not even funny. "I should have told her that her mom was here and let her decide if she wanted to see her or not. Instead, I didn't say a fucking word. I just let her mom walk out of her life again." I did worse than that: I practically pushed her out the damn door.

  "I get why," Evans says quietly after a minute. "I'd do the same if it were me. She's got enough to deal with right now without adding this to it."

  It's funny how thin that justification sounds coming from someone else.

  "I fucked up."

  Evans doesn't dispute that fact. "Give her some time, man," he advises instead. "That girl is crazy about you. She'll get over this."

  I shake my head slowly back and forth, not sure that's true. "You don't know her like I do. You don't know what she's been through." I'm terrified she's not going to forgive me for this. Grappling with that reality is overwhelming, but there it is anyway. She might not forgive me for this. I lied to her. I took her choice in the matter away, stripping it as effectively as McKee stripped her of her self-worth for so long.

  "You're right," he says, "I don't. But I'm not blind either. I've seen the way she lights up the moment she sets eyes on you. She'll forgive you for this. Just give her time to work it through for herself. Don't crowd her."

  I snort, finding his advice amusing.

  "What?" He narrows his eyes at me.

  "You were in town all of a day before you were crowding Lexi. You really gonna tell me to give my girl space?"

  He shrugs a shoulder, not ashamed or guilty in the least. He doesn't try to deny it either, and that tells me everything I need to know about his relationship with Lexi. He's falling for her.

  "Lexi's the type that needs to be crowded," he says. "She needs to be reminded that she can give up a little of that control she clings to so hard. She's been in charge too long, taking care of everyone else, putting her needs last. Your girl is like that too, putting her needs behind everyone else's. Except your girl has never had control. Someone else has always made the decisions for her, and those decisions have never been in her best interest."

  I wince because he's dead-on. Savannah's never felt like she had much of a say in what happened to her. McKee stripped that away from her, and as much as I wanted to give that power back to her, I've been doing the same damn thing since he appeared. I've made choices for her, doing what I felt needed to be done instead of asking her what she wanted or needed.

  "Shit," I mumble when that realization sinks in.

  "You want her back, give her space," he says, pushing away from the pillar. "But not too much. Let her come to you, but make damn sure she knows you'll be there when she's ready." He slaps me on the shoulder. "Now please get the fuck out of here before I have to kick your ass."

  "Do me a favor?" I ask him, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the letter Melinda gave me last night. I haven't read it. I hold it out to Evans who takes it. "Give this to her, and tell her I'm not going anywhere. That I'll be here whenever she's ready to talk to me."

  "Will do," he says before going inside and closing the door.

  I stand there for a long moment before I turn around and make my way back to Savannah's, too fucking tired to function any longer.

  "How is she?" I ask Lexi, clutching my cellphone to my ear as I sit on the porch swing, staring out into the sheeting rain. It's been almost twenty-four hours since Savannah fled in tears, and I'm dying. Not being able to see her or touch her, not knowing how she feels or if she's ever going to forgive me for this, is torture.

  "How do you think she is?" Lexi asks, iron in her voice.

  I don't think Lexi has forgiven me for what I said to her this morning, either. Cringing, I apologize. "I'm sorry, Lex. I was out of line, and I didn't mean what I said. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you when this is entirely my fault."

  The silence hanging on the line is deafening, and then she sighs. "I know you didn't mean it," she says. "But what did you expect, Jared? You've been lying to her for days about her mother. Did you really think she was just going to accept that you meant well?"

  Did I think that?

  No. I think I knew from the beginning this wouldn't go over well with her, but I made the decision to keep it from her anyway. Even after she told me not telling her about McKee was wrong, I followed the course I'd set, refusing to deviate.

  "I didn't want her to get hurt," I mutter. The defense sounds weak even to me. Savannah's been lied to, manipulated, and neglected for so long. Did I really think she'd just accept that I was trying to protect her? That I meant well?

  "How would you feel if you were in her shoes?"

  Betrayed. Hurt. Furious.

  "I fucked up," I sigh, tilting my head back against the window and closing my eyes. "I know I did, but I never intended to hurt her. I was trying to protect her, and maybe I didn't go about that the right way, but what would you have done, Lex? I'd just learned McKee was coming after my girl, and then here comes her mom, telling me she wants to reunite with her daughter. She waits until Savannah's all over the news to waltz
back into her life?" I huff out a frustrated breath. "I promised Savannah I wouldn't let anyone else hurt her, and I was trying to keep that promise the best way I knew how."

  "I know that, and I think she does, too. But she needs time, Jared," Lexi says quietly, the same thing Evans told me. "You owe her that much."

  "Yeah, I know. It sucks, but I get it." Raking a hand through my hair, I push off from the swing, rising to my feet. "And I'm trying to give her time. I'm not going to force her to talk to me."

  Why the hell else do they think I've been over here alone since she ran to the mansion? I'm going crazy, but I'm trying to respect that she doesn't want to see me right now, even if doing so is killing me.

  "What did you do today?"

  "Same damn thing I've done every day for the last week," I mutter.

  "You will find him, Jared."

  I don't know what to say to that. Everyone keeps telling me the same thing, and it's starting to piss me off. The fact that we haven't found him yet pisses me off even more. Where the hell is he hiding? What is he waiting for?

  "Make sure she doesn't leave the property, please."

  "Evans and I have to go in to T.I. in the morning to deal with a few things, but Kit and Grayson are going to keep her company while we're gone. She'll be fine, Jared. Stop worrying so much and focus on finding him."

  "Tell her I love her," I sigh, wishing like hell she'd talk to me so I could tell her that myself.

  "What's up with you? You're in a foul mood," Lewis observes, glancing at me across his desk where we've been entrenched all day, reviewing what we know and trying to find anything we might have overlooked. So far, we've found more of the same thing we already had: nothing useful. San Francisco finally recovered the damn bat McKee used to smash Savannah's car to hell, but it's gotten us no closer to him. Wherever he is, he's being careful. No one has seen him since the convenience station in Corte Madera.

  "Your plan backfired," I grunt, tossing down the stack of statements I've been pouring through for the last hour, intentionally ignoring his question.

  Lewis arches a brow.

  "You thought having his name and face all over the news would draw him out. Instead, the son of a bitch has gone underground. Your plan backfired." I cross my arms over my chest and curse. "We're never going to find him like this."

  "First, that wasn't my plan," Lewis says quietly, leaning back in his chair. "I didn't want this hitting the papers any more than you did, but I figured if it was bound to happen, maybe it'd work in our favor. Second, what the fuck is up with you?"

  "Nothing." Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my cellphone for the thousandth time since I arrived at Lewis's office. Pain ricochets through me when I see that Savannah still hasn't called or texted me. She's shut me out completely, just like she did when she ran before. And just like then, it's entirely my fault.

  "Melinda Martin left town night before last," Lewis says, watching me carefully.

  "I know."

  He reaches for another stack of reports with a grunt.

  "What?"

  "I'm guessing you didn't tell your fiancée she was here," he says.

  I clench my jaw, striving for calm. "I actually like you," I mutter, shoving my phone back into my pocket. "Don't make me break your jaw."

  "I'm just saying, there's only one thing that puts that look on a man's face, and it isn't paperwork. She's not talking to you and it's driving you crazy."

  "Don't," I warn him, not in the mood for this shit. I don't need to be analyzed, and I don't want him talking about Savannah, not when I feel like I'm going to crack wide open any minute. And not when just thinking her name hurts. I don't know how to fix this for her. All I can do is keep trying to find McKee, and I don't even know if that'll be enough. If I find him, if I make her safe again… will she forgive me? Can she?

  Christ, why didn't I tell her the truth?

  I make my way up the steps to Savannah's house, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Lewis and I spent the entire day combing through witness statements and reports, looking for anything we might have missed, anything that might give us some indication where the hell McKee is hiding or what he's planning. Once again, we've come up empty.

  All I want to do is wrap myself around Savannah, and it kills me that I can't. My phone is still silent in my pocket. I haven't heard her voice in almost forty-eight hours. Haven't seen her or touched her in just as long. How much time am I supposed to give her?

  I feel empty without her, numb. She's vital to me, something I can't live without. Like I told her, my life doesn't make sense without her. She makes everything so much better, brighter, and fuller. When Paulson took her, the pain was excruciating. This isn't any better. I feel like my soul has been torn from my body all over again.

  How the hell do you live without your soul?

  "If you weren't such a fucking idiot," I mutter, letting myself in to the house. As soon as I'm through the door, my eyes catch on the open window across the room and then on Savannah, who's sitting on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her calves.

  My heart physically hurts at the sight of her. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen where she's been crying. Her lips are raw from her chewing on them. She's so pale, her skin is almost translucent. Misery and heartbreak pulse in the air around her, thick and tangible.

  And it's my fault. I caused this.

  "Savannah," I whisper, her name cracking on my lips. I take a slow step toward her, terrified she's going to bolt if I move too fast.

  "Don't," she says when I'm two feet away from her.

  I hold my hands up and shuffle backward a step, sinking down onto the edge of the coffee table with plenty of space between us. Don't crowd her, that's what Evans told me. I don't know if he's right or not, but I'm trying.

  We stare at each other for long moments, not saying anything. Just having her here, in the same room as me, eases some of the tension that's beat at me since the moment she walked away from me.

  "How are you?" I ask, keeping my voice pitched low, like I'm talking to a scared rabbit. The same way I used to talk to her when she first came back here, when she'd flinch away from the sound of my voice, trying to make herself smaller and less of a target if I spoke too loudly. Christ, I hated that. Everything in me wanted to sweep her up into my arms and swear to her that I'd never hurt her. It's strange, being right back there now, with her cowering away, afraid to let me too close. That I'm the reason she's back in that headspace hurts.

  "You lied to me," she says, dropping her gaze to her lap. Her voice is so small, so vulnerable.

  "I'm so sorry. I never intended to hurt you."

  "I know that, but you hurt me anyway."

  "I know." I whisper, curling my hands into fists to keep myself from reaching out for her when tears well in her eyes.

  "I never expected that from you, Jared. You're the person I'm supposed to be able to count on no matter what. You had no right to keep something so big from me. It should have been my choice whether to let her back into my life or not, and you took that away. Do you have any idea how that feels?" She sniffles, throwing up a hand when I make a move toward her, unable to just sit here while she cries. "How could you keep that from me? Why would you?"

  "The day she came to see me," I say quietly, my eyes locked on her face, "I'd just found out that McKee was back in town. I walked out the door and came face to face with this woman who had already torn away little pieces of you. I didn't know her, didn't know anything other than that she'd hurt you in ways that no one else ever could. With McKee here, all I could see was the threat she posed to you, too. I couldn't take the chance that she'd destroy you again."

  Savannah licks her lips, but doesn't say anything.

  "When Paulson took you, I swore that nothing like that would ever happen again, that I would protect you no matter what. I never should have kept the truth from you, but I swear to you, I didn't do it to hurt you, Savannah. I didn't intend to take away your cho
ice. Once I knew she didn't mean you any harm, I had every intention of telling you about her and letting you decide whether you wanted to see her or not."

  "But you didn't tell me," she whispers sadly. "You had days and you never said a word to me. I even asked you if there was anything else I needed to know, and you lied to me. You're the one who reminds me all the time that you aren't like him, and I know you'd never put your hands on me or humiliate me like he did, but you lied to me and manipulated me just like he did, Jared. You made the choice to let her walk out of my life without telling me."

  I squeeze my eyes closed, hating that comparison because she's right. Maybe my intentions were good, but I ended up doing the same damn thing to her that he did. I lied. I manipulated. I took her family away from her, and I broke her. That's on me.

  "No wonder you hate me," I whisper, the words thick and heavy.

  "I don't hate you," she says, prompting me to look up at her again. She takes a deep breath and frowns sadly before climbing to her feet. "But I don't know how I'm supposed to trust you. How are we supposed to be partners when you only tell me what you want me to know?"

  "I understand." Tears burn in the back of my throat and sting at my eyes. My heart is in a vise, mangled. There are so many things I want to say to her, but I can't find the words to say any of them. So I say the only thing I can. "I love you, and I know you don't believe me right now, but I meant every word I said to you the other night. You're perfect, and you deserve to be worshipped. You deserve to be treated like an equal."

  And if this is over between us because I didn't give her that… I will never forgive myself.

  Savannah looks back at me, tears dripping down her face, and I have to know.

  "Are you leaving me?" I ask quietly, gripping the edge of the table until my hands hurt.

  She opens her mouth, and then closes it again. "I don't know," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her hands are splayed across her stomach like she's trying to hold herself together, but they're shaking, too. "I need time to think. I-I don't know what happens after that."