RECKLESS - Part 4 (The RECKLESS Series)

by Ward, Alice

  “I don’t care,” he yelled into the phone, his voice echoing off the concrete building. The sound sent tingles down my spine “No, Zane. Let him walk. He’s going to pull some shit like that, we don’t need him.”

  I stood a few feet away, afraid to come any closer, but it felt more like eavesdropping since he wasn’t aware of my presence. I had to let him know I was there, had to reassure him that I wasn’t trying to invade on his conversation but had been concerned. But he was already pulling the phone away from his ear, jamming the phone with his finger, letting out a loud growl. When he swung around to go back inside, he found me standing there, guilt written all over my face.

  Oh, God.

  “Andrea,” he said, sighing, his brow creasing with concern as he stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “How much did you hear?”

  I shook my head and bit at the inside of my cheek. “Not much. Just something about letting him walk. I’m guessing it’s Robert?”

  Jace sighed and then nodded. “Yeah, he went and cancelled a gig because I’m not there. It’s still a week away and he fucking cancelled.”

  “But why?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. “We would have been back already. My brother is better. I was actually going to talk to you about it tonight, about leaving Monday morning. That’s when my flight is scheduled to go back.”

  “I know. He’s just—“ Jace let out an angry growl. “He’s doing everything he can to sabotage Seattle. He doesn’t want this, but he doesn’t realize just how much we all need this. How much I need this.”

  I could feel my face contorting in confusion. “Need Seattle?”

  Jace shook his head, those brown eyes of his taking my blue ones captive. “No--well, yes. But it’s you, Andrea. It’s always been you.”

  “Seattle was about me from the start?” I asked, still not sure what the hell he meant.

  “No, not at first,” he said, taking a step toward me, closing some of the distance between us. “But I wasn’t sure about it then, when I first told you about it. Especially not with Robert so against it. I thought that maybe I had it wrong. Then I met you. I talked to you. Got to know you. Now—Andrea, there isn’t anywhere else on this earth I want to be if you’re not there. And I can see this is home for you, and it feels like home to me.”

  “Jace—“

  “No, Andrea, this is it for me. You. You’re it,” he said, cutting me off with another step in my direction, the intensity of his eyes growing. “I know you might not understand it all the way, or that maybe it doesn’t make sense. Hell, it barely makes sense to me. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I can’t imagine Seattle, or anywhere else without you there. I—I’m not proposing marriage. I just need you to know that, no matter what happens, you have me. You have my heart.”

  My hand immediately went to my chest to try and calm my pounding heart, but Jace was there, making it flutter again as he grasped my chin in his hand, tilted my face up to his.

  “I love you, Andrea Mercer. Crazy love you.” His eyes fell to my lips and then back up to my eyes. Slowly, intentionally, he closed what little space was left between us and claimed my mouth, slow and gentle, long and deep, in the rain beneath the stars. When he finally ended the kiss, pulling away from me just enough that he could rest his forehead against mine, he drew in a ragged breath. “I have to go home.”

  “I know,” I whispered against his face, trying not to cry, trying to ignore the painful, empty feeling rushing through me at the idea of him going back without me.

  The funny thing was, if he hadn’t said it, I would have. Because it was the right thing to do. He needed to go and take care of things back in Texas. But now I knew what he meant. My flight didn’t leave for three more days so he’d be flying back before me, and now, this city, the one that had always felt like home, would feel less like it without him in it.

  Part of me wanted to panic, wanted to change my flight and tell my family I’d be back in just two short months; that was all I had left of the semester. But after everything we’d been through, I needed those last few days with them and I was pretty sure they needed me. So I told myself that it was only three days, that I’d be back in Texas with him before I knew it.

  What could possibly go wrong in that short amount of time?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jace had only booked his ticket one way, so as soon as we got to my parents that night, he’d booked the first flight out. Before he started packing for the trip home, we made love one last time, just to tide us both over and to work out some of his frustrations, but it had felt different because we both knew that we’d be apart for the next three days.

  ***

  As he drove us to the airport, he apologized profusely, over and over, as if somehow this was his fault, as if he’d intended to abandon me. Even though I told him it wasn’t, and that it was okay, he insisted that he’d made me a promise and he didn’t like breaking it. I did my best not to read too much into it, but with my crazy head, that’s just about impossible.

  I read too much into everything.

  By the time we reached the airport, I was in tears, worried I might not see him again. That sounded silly, but a million possibilities ran through my head. His plane could crash. Or mine. Or my brother could take a turn for the worst. His band could decide that Seattle wasn’t worth losing a band member over... What had I been thinking?

  Maybe my brain was working overtime because it all felt so heavy and emotional. Maybe it was because I was just starting to come back from the scare with my brother. Or maybe the swirling thoughts in my head had taken on a life of their own because, like my mother said, when you love someone with your whole heart, so completely that you can’t imagine life without them, you worry that something might happen to them.

  Whatever the case, the reality was, there were so many things could go wrong in three days.

  In the terminal, just before he had to go through security, Jace pulled my sobbing mess of a body into his. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, whispering into my hair, holding me to him as if his life depended on my touch. Maybe it did; it certainly felt like mine did.

  I told him all the crazy thing going through my head, each and every one of them. He listened patiently, and when I was done, he didn’t laugh at me—not completely anyway. Instead, he soothed a finger across my cheek, smiled, looked into my eyes and kissed me.

  “We’re going to be okay,” he said, taking my face in his hands.

  “How do you know?” I asked, praying that he had the words to soothe my aching heart.

  He smiled that sexy smirk, the one that I’d once hated but now loved, and kissed my forehead, my nose, and then my cheek. “Because I love you,” he said, pulling me into him again, holding me until the absolute last possible minute.

  I didn’t say what I wanted to say as he led me to his terminal or as he held me and gave me one final kiss before saying goodbye and walking away. But as he disappeared into the crowd, that one thought—the one I was too afraid to say out loud—screamed in my head, taunted me, reminded me that there’s nothing in this life that’s certain.

  What if it’s not enough?

  It was that same thought that plagued me as I returned to the hospital. It made me sick with worry over the next three days as I spent time with my family at home and at the hospital. It got louder and louder as the days passed, as our conversations over the phone became shorter and less frequent.

  Something was wrong; I could feel it, just like I had when Cole had been in that accident. It was this constant sense of dread. It followed me around everywhere, haunted me in my dreams to the point that I could barely sleep, which only made the days drag on even further.

  My mother tried to remind me that he had things to deal with, that he had a mess back home, and that I needed to trust it would all work out in the end, but even as I told my family goodbye to board my own plane, I still wasn’t sure if I believed her.

  ***

  When my plane touch
ed down in Texas, I felt the same culture shock that I had the first time I’d arrived. There was something different about the air there. You could smell everything—the grass, the dirt, the cattle—whereas, in Seattle, the only thing you really smell is clean, fresh air.

  Some say it’s all the rain. I didn’t really care why; I just missed it.

  But I was glad to be back. I was ready to finish out the semester and go home. Ready to start my new life in Seattle. Jace and I hadn’t really talked about what that would look like or what it all meant, but I knew we would soon... if the horrible feeling I’d been having the last few days was completely wrong, that is.

  Unfortunately, my homecoming didn’t start out looking very good, especially since it was Becca picking me up instead of Jace. The disappointment must have been evident on my face because, when I reached the spot where she stood outside of her car in the terminal pick-up area, she had an eyebrow quirked and a hand on her hip.

  “That’s how you greet your best friend that you haven’t seen in over a week?” she asked, her pierced lips pulled into a scowl.

  “Sorry, Becca,” I mumbled, pulling my rolling luggage bag behind me. I tossed it into the trunk of her car and then climbed into the passenger seat, trying really hard not to let my over-reactive brain take over. He was probably just dealing with band stuff, taking care of some last minute things before I got back on campus. He must have just wanted to make sure that we’d have uninterrupted time once I landed and things must have bled over a bit.

  But nothing would quiet my head. Nothing could stop me from chewing away at the tender flesh of my cheek or stop my leg from bouncing up and down as I thought of all the things that could have gone wrong, the reasons he might have failed to show up.

  When Becca climbed into the driver’s seat next to me, she shot me a quick look. “What the hell is wrong with you, woman?” she asked, putting the car into drive. She started to pull out but the slammed on the brakes to avoid getting hit by a car speeding through the terminal pick up. A horn blared at us. She laid on the horn and blared right back and then stuck her finger out the window to give the guy a middle finger.

  She was pissed and I was a heart palpitation away from a heart attack.

  Anything could happen.

  “Jesus, people need to learn how to fucking drive,” she muttered, looking over her shoulder once more before pulling out into traffic. “Now, what the fuck is going on with you? You’re not even excited to see me. Are you still pissed over the wedding thing?”

  “No—well, yes. I am, but not for the reason you think,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’m happy for you two, genuinely, truly. But you should have waited for me. I wanted to be there. I should have been in my best friend’s wedding.”

  “Y—You what?” she looked at me like I’d suddenly turned into some sort of alien. “Wanted to be there? I thought you’d be pissed at me because I’d married some guy on a whim, which—for the record—isn’t just some guy. He’s—oh—wait until I tell you everything. Andy, you’re going to just love him. I promise.”

  I placed my hand on her shoulder. “You love him, and that’s what matters.” I’d meant it, every last word. But my voice sounded so horribly deflated.

  “Andy, what’s wrong?” Becca asked, shooting me a quick glance before turning onto the highway. “I mean, I couldn’t be more relieved that you understand, but... I’ve never heard you like this. Seen you like this. You’re so—“

  “Tired,” I said, cutting her off to stare out the window.

  I was worrying for nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing. Because, if there was something to worry about, my best friend wouldn’t be going on about her wedding, or her new husband. She’d tell me. She would come right out and give me the details. Because that’s who she was. And so, rather than feed the monster in my head any longer, I sat back and closed my eyes, let myself drift off until we arrived on campus.

  Unfortunately, my disappointment only grew when we got to the dorms. I still hadn’t seen or heard from Jace. I would have thought he’d be there, excited to see me, wrapping me in the arms I’d missed so very, very much. Instead, I came back to a dark and empty dorm and an overexcited best friend who couldn’t seem to shut up about her crazy whirlwind romance.

  Maybe I was just jealous, but I wanted nothing more than to just hide under the covers instead of sit there and listen to her tell me—again—what the dress looked like, or how he’d written a special vow for her (how you write vows about someone you barely know is beyond me). But, since it was clear that she wasn’t going to let me sleep, I politely excused myself for a shower; after ten hours of being on a plane, I felt absolutely disgusting.

  Thankfully, by the time I came out, she’d disappeared, probably to go and have crazy newlywed sex somewhere. A note on the nightstand confirmed my theory. Any other time, under any other circumstances, I might have been disappointed, but right then, I couldn’t have been more relieved. It gave me a chance to call Jace, to see what might have kept him from seeing me, to hopefully calm the storm inside of me that was reaching F5 status the longer I went not hearing from him.

  I glanced at the time on my phone and decided that two in the morning wasn’t too late to call—of course, I also knew that there was a chance he was asleep, but that possibility raised a lot of concerns for me. Would I be asleep if I knew he was on his way home? Wouldn’t I have shown up to meet him at the airport, regardless of my obligations? Or, at the very least, wouldn’t I have left a message or a text to let him know I couldn’t make it?

  When I got nothing more than his voice mail, I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and let the tears of worry and exhaustion take over. When those had finished running their course, I curled up in bed and pulled the covers around me. I let our last kiss play over and over in my head as I drifted off to sleep. I reminded myself that he’d said he loved me, and you don’t fall out of love in three days... do you? Hadn’t my mother said that our kind of love was the strongest?

  Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe I’d see him then.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I awoke in the middle of the night, a cold sweat covering every inch of my body. A nightmare, that’s all it had been. Jace hadn’t left me, hadn’t found someone else, hadn’t stopped loving me, or been in a car accident. It was nothing more than the fears and worries working overtime, bleeding into my sleep. Yet, I couldn’t shake that feeling, that sense of dread, like there was something wrong and I needed to see him right that very second, or, at the very least, hear his voice.

  I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. Almost six in the morning. A call was definitely more feasible at that hour, especially if he was still asleep and I paid for a cab ride for no good reason. I tried to call him, but again, his phone went to voice mail. I called one more time, just for good measure. Still no answer so I put my phone on the charger and tried to go back to sleep.

  Only I couldn’t.

  So instead, I got up, powered up my computer and pulled up the campus website. I searched the forums for missed assignments. I tried to concentrate on doing some of the work I’d missed while gone in Seattle. When that didn’t pan out so well, when my brain refused to focus, I started looking for potential internships back home. An hour passed and I tried to call Jace again.

  Still no answer.

  I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and then started a load of laundry. Another hour down so I tried calling again. This time, there was an answer... only, I had to have the wrong number. Because the person on the other end of the line was a woman. I hung up quickly and then pulled up my call log to see who I might have called by accident, but there it was, staring me right in the face. His name. I’d called him.

  Everything in me stopped. My heart. My lungs. Everything but that brain of mine.

  He’d moved on? In three days? Or had I been the back-up? Had I been the other woman, the one he’d had on the side? Could I have missed something like that? Something so damn obvious?

&
nbsp; My phone rang and vibrated in my hands. I couldn’t answer it. Couldn’t face the voice on the other end of the line or the possible accusations that might be getting thrown at me. What if I really was the back-up? That would mean having some crazy girlfriend or fiancé, or wife, ready to claw my eyes out. I would if I were in her shoes. Fuck, I was in her shoes.

  Still numb, still not breathing, I silenced the ringing and then shut my phone off and crawled back into bed. As the depression, exhaustion, and tears pulled me under, back into a fitful bit of sleep, I told myself that it must have been a mistake, that there had to be some sort of an explanation for it all, that I’d see him in the morning and we’d sort it all out.

  This couldn’t be it.

  This couldn’t be the end.

  ***

  By the time I woke up around noon, I’d found my pissed off. Screw wallowing around like some pansy chick that needed a man to feel like she meant something in this world. I might have thought I loved Jace, but, in all reality, we hadn’t had more than a couple of weeks together. I wasn’t about to let my life fall apart over him. Sean might have had some sort of rights to screwing up my life. Jace? He hadn’t earned that right.

  I was going to get up, shower, make myself look hot, head over to his place, and remind him of what he’d given up, or maybe was about to. If it turned out that it had all been a misunderstanding, if it turned out that his phone had been stolen, or that he’d left at someone else’s house, or some other crazy mishap... there was still the matter of why he hadn’t shown up for my homecoming.

  In other words, I needed answers and I was going to look hot getting them, if for no other reason than to make him squirm. I was a firecracker, not this pansy-ass lovesick puppy I’d been acting like since I’d started seeing him.