“You don’t have to marry him, Delilah.” I stop her from pacing by putting my hands on her shoulders. She’s feeling guilty; something a good person feels when they’ve done something dishonest. She needs to realize she’s with me because it’s not meant for her to be with Emerson. She’s meant to be with me. Moving my hand, I place my fingers under her chin and lift her head to connect my eyes with hers. I lower my head down and press Delilah’s salty lips to mine—kissing her, consuming her—then say, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Besides, I didn’t drive two hours to just have sex with you…well not in that order anyway.” I flash my trademark smirk then continue. “I came here to tell you something else.”
Delilah
Panic ensues. I know what Jake is going to tell me. I don’t want to hear the words; God knows I can’t hear the words, not from him. It will break me just as it will break him the moment I tell him we can’t have each other. He will fall apart. I have to stop him before it’s too late to save his heart, too late for both of us.
“Jake, just don—”
“Shut up.” My eyes narrow. I hate when he tells me that. “I ha… have to tell you… I love you, Delilah St. James.”
Oh, sweet Jesus, this is spiraling downward and fast. He has to stop. It will be much easier on both of us if he just stops. The feel of his hands on my shoulders and the look of his warm brown eyes are my undoing. My heart is a masochistic for Jake Evans’s eyes and it finally wins out over my head. I want to hear everything he has to say. I want to torture myself with his words and feel the love I wish I could have with him. I want to feel the warmth of his love before I let it burn to ashes then fade into nothingness.
“I’m not saying it because we’re friends. That’s not how I mean to say it. You have to understand that I’ve never said that to anyone and I’ve never wanted to say that to anyone… then I met you. The second I looked into your blue eyes, I fell in and I’ve been drowning in you ever since.”
Jake moves his palms to my cheeks and presses his body next to mine, filling the gap between our two bodies. All I feel is the ever present heat between us, the fire that always burns from our skin. “Earlier tonight, it was a first for me, too. I’ve never made love to anyone and that’s exactly what I did with you. The moment I kissed you in Vegas…” He lifts his warm thumb, gliding it across my bottom lip as he brushes away a lonesome tear and then plants the most tender kiss to my lips. They taste divinely of mint and he continues, “…I was done. I was done with everyone that wasn’t you. The moment I kissed you, I knew I was in trouble.” He leans down and kisses me again—soft and sensual.
“When you arrived in town for Presley’s funeral, I took one look at you and instantly knew I belonged to you and you to me. Because I finally realized how much I fucking love you, Delilah. All I want is to be with you, love you, and take all your pain away. I came here to tell you that I’m all in. This whole fucking relationship thing, I’m all in for you.”
“Jake, I don’t kn—”
“Please tell me you’re in. Tell me you are willing to walk blindly into your future, your future with me. I will take those chances any day of the week because it will be you walking blind beside me.” Jake’s hands are firmly cupping my cheeks, burning my skin with his intensity.
“Jake, I can’t. I’m expected to be at home,” I whisper, trying to make sense of this entire mess.
My heart is screaming to jump, to go into the blind unknown with this man, but everything I’ve ever been told to do is still gripping and hanging onto my reality. I’ve made up my mind and that’s the way it has to be. I’ve never been supposed to be with someone like Jake, and I won’t allow myself to break away from everything I have been raised to be because he has this power over my heart. Love can only get you so far in life. You have to depend on your head to get you through the rest.
Besides, I’ve been thinking with my heart for the last four days and look where it’s gotten me. There’s nothing planned for us; we have no future. Like Jake said, we’d be walking blindly into the unknown future and I just can’t play those odds. What I have with Emerson is secure and predictable. Jake is the opposite, and I will not gamble on my life like that. What if we have a Drake and Presley type of story? What the hell will happen then? I can’t sacrifice myself like that.
“To go home and marry him?” he seethes.
“Yes. He’s good for me. He’s what I need.”
“You mean, he’s safe and it’s what your family fucking wants, but answer me this, Delilah, what the hell do you want?” With every question, Jake’s voice rises slightly as our conversation gets swarmed with intense emotions.
I know what I want, but I also know what I cannot have. I won’t have it. I will pick the safe choice. I will pick Emerson.
“Jake, please stop this. Why are you pushing me? Just let it be. Let it go and let me go,” I beg him, hoping he sees what I’m trying to do.
“Is it because he has money and your parents’ approval? Tell me, cupcake, what is it that makes you think you can’t be with me?” Jake crosses his arms over his chest as it heaves up and down with anger.
“I will never be good enough for you, will I? It doesn’t matter that I haven’t looked or even thought of another woman since I kissed you in Vegas. And it doesn’t matter that I haven’t had a single drop of whiskey since Vegas because something inside of me told me to just stop! None of that shit matters because I will never be good enough for a stuck up rich chick like you!”
Jake walks like a predator stalking his next kill as he flexes his muscles in anger. That’s until his fist swings quickly through the air and he plows it into the drywall. He’s out of control as he drives his hand over and over into the wall. Blood stains the white paint with every blow.
“Stop it, Jake!” I run over to him and grab his arm, preventing him from making any further holes I will now need to pay for.
His breathing is deep, his eyes murderous. “Can’t you see what I’ve done?” He grabs my arms painfully, squeezing them. Angry with every breath he takes. “I’ve told you things, done things I’ve never done before, and changed everything I’ve ever known. It’s been all for you!”
“I never asked you to do that!”
Jake turns his body again, taking his fury out on the wall. Three more holes accompany the six already there. The blood is now dripping quickly from his hand, but it doesn’t faze him. Nothing is daunting him right now.
“Yes, you did!” Jake grabs his hips, intense and angry, then his arms flail as blood flies from the wound on his hand. “When you asked me to be your friend, I’ve been slowly changing and it’s all because I wanted you! I needed you in my life!”
“Jake, I have obligations! I can’t just leave!” I scream back at him, not caring it’s the middle of the night and I’m waking the neighbors.
“Goddammit! Are you listening to yourself?” His hands slide from his sides, holding firmly to my arms as blood runs onto my skin. The look in his eyes is burning, intense and irate. “Marrying someone isn’t a fucking obligation, Delilah! You marry someone because nothing else compares. You know from the deepest parts of your soul you’ll love no other. Unless…” He is broken from his thought as another one moves to the forefront. “Unless… it’s not the same for you?”
The guillotine drops and it’s now my turn to shatter his soul to pieces. “Jake… I do love you, but I think you’re just confused. We’ve been close for a long time and what we did was just impulse, not love. We were both hurting and—”
“Then tell me the real reason why you decided to fuck, cupcake?” I can’t escape the glare in his eyes. I can’t escape anything. I need to finish this. I need to break this off and leave this damn hotel room.
“I… don’t know. I was just caught up in the moment. You were finally opening up about your mother and I just felt sor—”
“Are you saying you fucked me because you felt sorry for me?” Jake interrupts, and I’ve never seen him s
o angry in my life. We’ve had many fights over the last couple of years, but this look is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Well, not toward me anyway. He’s glaring like he wants to kill me, and for the first time, I’m frightened. “You took fucking pity on me?”
“I don’t know! I was just confused. Your voice was so distant and sad… I… I kissed you to make you feel better. To make me feel better, not knowing how you really felt about me. I’m sorry!”
Jake takes a step away. The rage is still present in his body, but he transforms back into the Jake I met years ago. The arrogant, conceited bastard—the mask he dons whenever he needs to hide his true self.
He moves backward toward the door as he says, “Well, don’t be sorry about that, cupcake. It took a couple of years, but I finally got to stick my dick inside you. Not once, but twice. What I said earlier is the truth, I do… well, I did love you, but now I can see the cunt you truly are and I’m glad I get to walk away. I don’t think I can stand to be with someone as weak and fake as you.” Jake opens the door and slams it behind him.
I finally release the wails that were growing inside my chest. I’ve successfully done what I initially set out to do, and that was to break him down then push him away from me. He’ll hate me.
This has been my goal all along. When I left Memphis days ago, my mother said I would need to say goodbye forever, and with him, the only way it would be successful is to completely cut him out of my life. I’ve done that. He’s gone and I guarantee I will never see or hear from Jake Evans ever again.
Chapter 26
Jake
Yvonne comes storming down the hallway when I slam Delilah’s hotel door. She’s livid with me and shouts that she’s called the police for the disturbance. I shrug her off, not caring if she slices my throat or guts me open. Anything would feel better than what I’ve just experienced. My chest feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder and shredded to bits because Delilah doesn’t love me.
I drove all this way. Two fucking hours to confess my heart, only for her to tell me she had sex with me out of pity, not love. That she’s never loved me the same in return. I love her. God knows I do, but I’m a goddamn idiot for allowing anything to grow between us. I was so sure when we met she would end up hating me by the time it was over, but I was sorely mistaken. She doesn’t hate me. I hate me. I hate what I’ve become and it has all been unconsciously done for her. Fucking goddamn bitch!
I slam the Challenger in gear and peel away from the hotel, swearing on my life that I will never do that again. I will never fall victim to another girl as long as I live. I have been wrong when I thought what Drake and Presley had was perfect; it’s the worst fucking thing a guy can do to himself. Nothing like this is worth experiencing when the end result is torturous pain. Although Reggie and Darcie are married and I know he’s a love sick wimp, I don’t ever want to be in his shoes. If the day comes that Darcie up and leaves him or worse, he will be a fucking wreck. He will be like Drake or myself.
I’m tired as hell, but I keep the car floored. I need to get to Sulfur Heights as soon as possible. Whiskey and sluts will take all this fucking agony away. They’re what worked in the past and that’s what will work now.
The sun is just starting to rise in the distance, making the sky look peaceful and filled with hope. I used to look at the sunrise, completely captivated by the colors pouring over the horizon, knowing someday there will be a better life for me, and now, I know it has been a stupid, childish fantasy. Nothing will be better in my life. I should have learned my lesson from my mother that once something nice starts to come my way, life is a complete bitch and yanks it all back. Every fucking time.
When I finally make it into Sulfur Heights two hours later, the sun is blinding me when I pull into the driveway and slam the car into park. Jeremy walks from the garage, a look of sadness masking his face, and it heightens the sickening feeling already present in my body.
He meets me at the driver’s door, holding his hand out for the keys. “I need to go.”
“Where are you going? It’s nine o’clock in the morning?” I ask, not sure I really want to know what he’s actually doing. Ever since Presley died, Jeremy has been acting strange and I don’t know what to make of it or how to help him. He’s done something bad, life altering, and I fear I’m so close to losing my brother and best friend.
“I’ve got some things I need to take care of.” Jeremy hops in the Challenger and takes off down the drive.
My mind is plagued with thoughts of losing him. My gut tells me he’s done something to Carter, but it’s telling me he’s done something to the family as well; something that will be nearly impossible to forgive.
Over the years, us Evans boys have done some pretty messed up stuff. So, when I think of what Jeremy could have possibly done that would tear our family apart—God, the very thought makes me sick.
I walk up the back steps and into the kitchen. I’m dead tired, but don’t want to sleep, not yet. Too much is raging inside of me right now and it needs to be gone. I open the cupboard above the sink and find the bottles of liquor. Whiskey, my go to numbing solution, is gone, however I find a bottle of brandy tucked in the back corner. I honestly have no idea how long it’s been there, but liquor gets better with age, I think.
The metal cap unscrews easily. I toss it onto the counter and tip my head back. The brandy burns its way down, nearly taking my breath with it as I chug the liquid down my throat. I don’t want to feel anymore. I want every feeling of loss, pain and suffering to vanish. I suck more liquid from the bottle.
It doesn’t take long for my head to spin and my body to numb. I manage to make my way down to my room and that’s when a reminder of the last twelve hours comes slamming back into my face. The sheets are rumpled and the air smells of lavender. Delilah is everywhere in my room and in my mind, but she’s nowhere close to me. The very thought enrages me.
I pull out my cell phone and the screen lights up. It’s her. So beautiful and sexy and she’s not mine, not anymore. In less than two months she will belong to Emerson and have the lifestyle she deserves. A lifestyle I would never be able to give her. I squeeze my cell phone tightly in my hand, making it throb with pain before throwing it toward the wall. Plastic shatters and flies through the air then lands haphazardly on the floor.
Taking another long drink of brandy, I turn my rage to my bed, the last place Delilah has been and the place I thought she wanted to be. I yank the sheets and blankets from my bed, violently tossing them to the floor and start to wail on my mattress, punching the bed over and over and over. I need to get her out of my mind. I need things to go back to the way they were before she came into my life. It all needs to be simple again.
When women were a matter of want, not need.
I toss a pillow across the room. I’m ready to take my anger out on anything in my path when the closet door slightly opens and the light hits the back of the door, reminding me she’s still here. She’s still present everywhere I turn.
Stomping over to the door, I jerk it open and see the visual reminder of my dismantled state. I see the woman I have been ready to change for, a person I would die for, and she’s staring back at me. The long strands of her blonde hair, her radiant smile and ocean blue eyes break me down and even the brandy can’t put me back together. Not right now.
I fall to the floor, slamming my knees into the carpet, and I scream. Bloody and rage-filled, the anger dives out of my mouth. I need to release my anger—release my hurt. I start punching the floor. One blow after the other, I slam my fists into the floor, trying to pound away every last bit of hurt. When the cuts on my hand bust open, blood is dripping from my skin and staining the carpet, but I don’t care. I keep taking my anger out on the floor, shedding every last bit of pain.
I focus once again on the pictures on the back of the door. One by one, I start pulling them off, tearing the glossy paper in half as I throw them behind me. The floor is covered in torn pictures, sheets and blood.
>
There’s one more memory still left to destroy, the picture of Delilah and I at the lake. The night everything changed for me. The night I let this woman move herself into my life and like a stupid bastard, I fell unconsciously into her web.
I hold the picture frame in my hand. The metal is cool against my hot, angry skin. I swipe my finger over her face, remembering how happy I was that night.
The night had truly been perfect. She’d had a smile so big you could have seen it for miles and her well-trained beauty queen façade had been gone, replaced by complete happiness.
Until the fight in her hotel room, every night since the night at the lake I’ve been happy. And it’s all from Delilah and me declaring our friendship that summer night.
Blood from my torn up hand drips onto her face. I run my finger over it, streaking it across the glass when another bout of pain rips through my chest. I squeeze the frame tightly, let out another guttural scream and then throw it against the wall—splintering the glass and shattering the future I’ve been so sure we’d have.
“Damn you, Delilah,” I whisper to no one as I allow a solitary tear drop from my eye.
Brandy bottle in hand, I pick myself up and make my way upstairs, numbing my pain one gulp at a time.
Delilah
Pulling into the driveway at my Memphis home makes the tears I’ve been holding for the last ten hours finally spill over my cheeks. I’m a horrible person. Hours ago I destroyed a life so valuable to me because he’s not what I need or should have in my life. Jake Evans stampeded his way into my heart with his ever-present smirk and crass attitude.
Now, as I reflect on the last time I will ever see Jake, my heart breaks and breaks because I will never have that tattooed lunatic in my life anymore. Even if I cut my losses with Emerson and my family, Jake will never forgive me. He will never believe I really made love to him because he is the love I’ve been waiting for, and he shouldn’t. Jake should never allow me back into his life. The only thing I’ve ever proved is that I’m just like every woman he’s ever had in his life—disappointing and worthless.
Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) Page 26
