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Little Black Box Set

Page 35

by Tabatha Vargo


  “But you said yourself that you don’t want me anymore!” She threw her hands up in aggravation before falling into the chair in front of my desk.

  “No. I don’t.” The words burned my tongue and my heart broke when pain streaked across her expression. “But I still want you where I can get to you in case I change my mind. I also don’t like the idea of you being in unsafe places. The condo is paid for. It’s yours. It’s safe. Just stay there until we find a better solution.”

  I opened the drawer to my desk and pulled out the keys I’d offered her days before. Tossing them into her lap, I turned away and rested my hip against my desk.

  “Why do you care, Sebastian?” Her voice softened. “I hate you so much for this. For doing this to me.”

  And then she stood with the keys in her hands and defeat etched into her expression. I swallowed against my emotions when she turned her back on me and started toward the door to leave without saying goodbye. Her spirit was broken—her spark gone—and I hated myself for altering her.

  “Rosslyn,” I called out, stopping her before she could leave.

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she turned my way with narrowed eyes and an angry frown.

  “The restaurant opening,” I started. “I think you should be there. Actually, I want you there.”

  I hated admitting that out loud, and I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, but I needed her to read between the lines. I needed her to know how much I still loved her—that I was only doing this to protect her, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t tell her about the letters. It was too dangerous. She’d fight for me, just the way I was fighting against her for her.

  “No thanks,” she muttered.

  And then she turned and left my office.

  The door shut behind her with a click of finality, and I had a sickening feeling that I’d never get her back. Even once I found the person threatening her life. Even after I admitted the truth to her and explained my atrocious behavior to her. I had a feeling she’d never come back to me, but it was a chance I had to take.

  If it meant she would live to see another day, then I’d do it.

  For her.

  Always for her.

  THE PLACE LOOKED EXACTLY THE same, and even though no one had lived there for a while, it was still immaculate. Sebastian kept up with his properties, and I was sure someone came through and cleaned the place on a regular basis.

  The table by the entrance elevator still held the photos of Kyle and myself when we were younger, and the room that Kyle had once slept in was still decorated for him and ready for his return. There was only one difference … my old room. It had been updated a bit and lying on the bed was a single rose.

  Shutting the door to my bedroom, I went straight to the wall of windows and looked out at New York City as I remembered all the times Sebastian had visited me here.

  The nights we made love.

  The nights he held me so close, I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

  It would never be that way again.

  Never.

  And now, for him to set me up in the condo the way he had in the beginning before we’d fallen in love was like a slap in the face. An offensive gesture toward all my feelings for him. It was embarrassing to be in the position I was in. I felt sore emotionally and physically.

  I wasn’t just his Jessica anymore. At least, I thought I wasn’t, but apparently, I was clueless. Apparently, I was just another one of his possessions. Another plaything. I’d thought I was something special to Sebastian. But it turned out I was just another name in his little black book. Another cartoon name that provided sex and comfort.

  No more.

  As soon as I could, I’d be out of here. I could do it. I would do it. And soon, Sebastian Black would just be another memory that broke my heart when he entered my mind.

  I MISSED KYLE EVERY DAY, but being in the condo where we’d lived before he’d left for school made me miss him more. On the days when I wasn’t working, I’d roam around the space and remember the way I felt before Sebastian. How helpless I felt. How sure I was that I’d drown and take Kyle down with me.

  It was similar to how I felt now. Except, I was seriously considering allowing Sebastian to care for my brother until he was capable of caring for himself. I was considering allowing him to continue paying for the expensive school Kyle was attending.

  At least I could leave the relationship with something for my brother. Sure, I was being pushed away from Sebastian, but I wasn’t going to be pushed away and still set up in his condo like a side piece in waiting.

  No.

  I wasn’t that kind of girl.

  I’d never been that kind of girl.

  So while I was willing to walk away while keeping what he offered for Kyle, I wouldn’t be keeping what he offered me. I had a job. Albeit one that didn’t pay great, but still, I had a job.

  As far as I was concerned, he could take his money, his condo, and his Town Car and shove them right up his sexy ass. I had a degree under my belt now. It wasn’t a master’s, but it would be enough to secure myself a low rent apartment and cover my transportation around the city.

  So after calling out from work and dwelling around the condo for a few days, I took some initiative.

  First, knowing that my position at the Department of Juvenile Justice wasn’t going to afford me an apartment in New York City, I called Ms. Judy and tried to get my job back. Unfortunately, I’d been replaced, which I expected. She did tell me she’d keep an eye out, though.

  Secondly, I went online and applied everywhere I could think of that paid better than where I was working, and then I researched student loans and grants so that I could maybe pursue my master’s.

  I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I wanted to make a difference. So that was what I was going to do. Sure, I was heartbroken and beaten down emotionally, but I didn’t have the luxury of lying around and dwelling too much. My pride wouldn’t allow it.

  Sebastian wouldn’t win me a second time. And by winning, I mean not wanting me but still wanting to collect me like a priceless possession in his luxury condo.

  No.

  I wasn’t anyone’s possession.

  If he wanted me the way I wanted to be wanted, then we’d still be snuggled up together in our condo—the place we’d lived together happily. At least, I was happy. I can’t say the same for Sebastian, which, seeing as I was here and he was there, apparently, he wasn’t.

  So I worked.

  I took a cab to work since it was much farther from the condo than it was from Trish’s apartment. I’d keep myself so busy at work that I’d come home at night, take a hot bath, and pass out, only to do it again the next day. It was working. The only problem was my body was a mess.

  I’d wake up in the middle of the night caressing myself with Sebastian’s name on my lips. It had been a while since he’d touched me, and I longed to feel him—longed to be near him—touch him and have him touching me. I missed him so much it hurt, and my body seemed to be on the same page as my brain.

  As I lay there in my bed, the sheets feeling so warm, my body strung so tight I thought I’d pop, I let my hands work their way down my body. I touched the places I longed for Sebastian to touch. I stroked myself the way I needed him to stroke me. And when I came, I did so imagining his lips on my body and with his name on my lips.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, MY STOMACH struck again. I barely made it to the toilet before my body turned inside out and I lost everything I’d eaten for dinner. When my stomach was empty, my body didn’t care. Instead, it sent me on a spiel of dry heaves and gagging sessions.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  I racked my brain and took stock of all the days I’d been sick, thinking perhaps I’d picked something up from one of the kids I was working with, but after calling out of work and spending most of the morning hugging the toilet, I decided a trip to the doctor was a must.

  I took a hot shower and dressed comfortabl
y before hailing a taxi and making my way to the doctor’s office.

  I always hated the smell of a sterile doctor’s office—the old water-stained magazines—the never-ending prescription ads on repeat on the small flat screens all over the room. I swore that if I never heard a thing about the new arthritis prescriptions again, I’d die a happy girl.

  The nurse called me back after sitting in the waiting room for forty-five minutes. The entire time, I prayed my stomach would behave and I wouldn’t throw up in the bathroom in the waiting room.

  After the nurse did her workup and I was down a few tubes of blood and a cup of urine, she directed me to a room to wait for the doctor.

  My eyes moved over the different diagrams of the body and the list of diseases and their symptoms. Just as I was convinced I was slowly dying of stomach cancer, the door opened and an older man with thin-framed glasses stepped in.

  He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, his eyes were glued to his paperwork as he read what I was sure was a list of everything that was wrong with me.

  I expected the worst.

  Over the last few weeks, I’d lost a lot, including the man I loved. The doctor telling me that I was dying would be the cherry on top.

  Instead, he looked up at me and smiled.

  “Well, Ms. Harris, it seems you’re perfectly healthy.”

  Shocked, my mouth dropped open. “I am? But how’s that possible? I’ve been sick so much.”

  “Yes, well, you’re healthy, but then again, so is the little one you’re carrying.”

  My heart skipped several beats. So many, in fact, I had to suck in the breath that was stolen from me. The room shifted around me and the doctor’s form began to swim before my eyes.

  Surely, I’d heard him wrong.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not sick, Ms. Harris. Looking at your chart and menstrual information, I’d say you’re about nine weeks pregnant.”

  And then I did the thing I feared the most at that moment. I fell back in the paper-covered bed I was sitting on and I fainted.

  Pregnant.

  I was carrying Sebastian’s baby.

  He’d never forgive me.

  I could never tell him.

  Never.

  MY THOUGHT PROCESS WAS A mess after my doctor’s appointment.

  Did I want to keep the baby?

  Could I even take care of a baby?

  Could I really keep my news from Sebastian?

  I swore to myself that I’d never tell Sebastian about the baby. I’d never trap him that way and force him to be with me. Sebastian didn’t want me. He’d made that more than clear, but I knew the kind of man he was. If he found out I was pregnant, he’d want to make it right. He’d pull me back to him, and I couldn’t let that happen.

  If Sebastian Black wanted me in his life, it would be because he wanted me. Not because we had a child together.

  No.

  I couldn’t tell him.

  Not yet at least.

  Of course, that idea lasted all of twenty-four hours. I couldn’t do that to him no matter how badly he’d hurt me. Sebastian was many things, but he wasn’t a bad person. He’d been dealt a terrible hand in the family department, and I refused to take away his only chance to have a family of his own. Even if that meant Mommy and Daddy would live in different houses and not be together.

  The idea of having a baby alone was scary, but I knew in my heart that I could do it. And while Sebastian and I would never be together again, especially now that I could never be certain if he was with me because of me or because of our baby, I knew he would help me. He’d be there. He’d be a part of his baby’s life. He knew the pain of not having a father, which meant he’d be a damn good one to our baby.

  I’d done harder things.

  I was sure of myself. I’d basically raised Kyle. I could raise my own child, and while I would never be okay with Sebastian paying to take care of me, I knew in my heart I’d let him pay for his child. Furthermore, I knew he’d have no problems at all helping to support his child. Our child would want for nothing.

  Then another thought hit me.

  What if Sebastian tried to take my baby?

  He had the money.

  He had the pull.

  He knew people, and sometimes, it wasn’t what you knew, it was who you knew. He could easily take my baby, and I had nothing and no one to back me up. I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let him take away my baby.

  My mind was a mess. And while my thoughts were all over the place, my body was trying to destroy me. The sickness was becoming unbearable. Over the next few mornings, I could barely lift my head from the pillow. The sickness was weakening me, and not being able to hold food down wasn’t making it any better.

  The doctor swore that all was well, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was dying.

  The week flew by in a haze of nausea and work. Before I knew it, it was the weekend. My phone sounded with a reminder of the restaurant opening, but I silenced it and went back to business at hand.

  I couldn’t go.

  I wouldn’t go.

  I gave myself every excuse possible to keep me from the grand opening, but I was weak—hormonal—and missing Sebastian like crazy. I knew nothing could come of it, but I needed to see him. I needed to be close to him. If only for one night, I wanted to remember what it was like to have him hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay because I wasn’t so sure things would be okay anymore.

  I took my time, dressing in a long, black gown and curling my hair perfectly so that it flowed down my back the way I knew Sebastian liked it. And when it was time, instead of calling for a ride from Mac, I took a cab.

  I stared out the window, watching the city go by in a haze of nerves, but once we pulled up to the restaurant, my body stiffened and anger shot through me so hard I thought I’d get sick all over my expensive gown.

  My eyes moved over the brick building, taking in its luxury and all the remodeling that had taken place, and then my eyes moved up to the bright neon sign above the building. The name of the restaurant blazed in a swirl of red neon lights in cursive lighting up the top of the building.

  The bastard named the restaurant after the very name I never wanted to hear again.

  I PAID THE DRIVER AND climbed from the cab feeling as though fire was on my back. It was such a stupid thing to be mad about, but his naming the restaurant after the name that made me feel like nothing was even worse than a slap in the face.

  Not only had he put me up in the condo Pretty Woman style, paying for everything and keeping me well cared for as I was tucked away and waiting for him to come and use my body, but now, he had gone as far as to name a restaurant Jessica’s. As if the name was something to be proud of.

  It wasn’t.

  It was an insult. I was good enough to be his Jessica, but that was it. I was no better than the other women he’d written off so easily when he was bored with them.

  A man with a tray of champagne stopped to offer me a glass and I almost took it. But then I remembered the baby growing inside me, and I quickly turned it down.

  “Turning down champagne?” Sebastian’s whisper shifted the hair on the back of my neck. “But you love the feel of it on your tongue so much. The bubbles dancing around your mouth. You should enjoy a glass or two. Enjoy the night.”

  I turned on him, my arousal from his soft whispers against my neck only fueling my anger.

  “Jessica’s? Really, Sebastian?”

  He grinned down at me. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “It’s an insult,” I snapped.

  His eyes narrowed, and his brows pulled down in confusion. “An insult? How so?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that!”

  The groups nearby turned our way, their eyes crawling over me and leaving me feeling exposed.

  Sebastian looped my arm through his with a forced smile and attempted to move us out of the view of others. I wasn’t having it. I yanked my hand
free from his arm and started across the room to a secluded alcove close to what I was sure was the kitchen.

  I didn’t look back to see if he was following me, but I felt him there, casually walking across the room and drawing the eye of every female in the building. I couldn’t deny it. Sebastian looked amazing in his perfectly cut signature black suit, but I couldn’t think about that.

  I wanted him to know how angry I was that he’d name the restaurant Jessica’s, and when I was done with that, I’d do it. I’d tell him about the baby, and then I’d leave him behind. The chips could fall where they may. If he wanted to try for custody once the baby was born, so be it. I’d fight until I couldn’t fight anymore.

  Once we were secluded, I turned on him.

  “You’re an asshole!” I hissed.

  My hormones were a mess. My body strung tight. I was done rolling over for this man. I was done … period.

  “Yes, but you’ve always known that. Haven’t you?” He moved closer, his front brushing my front until my back was against the exposed whitewashed brick. “You knew I was an asshole when you moved in with me. You knew I was an asshole when you told me you loved me—when you let me inside your sweet body—you always knew. Still, you stayed. You let me fuck you senseless. What exactly does that say about you, Jessica?”

  I lost it at that.

  Quicker than I knew I could move, I slapped him. His face shifted from the force of my palm and then he turned on me. I pulled my hand away quickly, the soft skin of my palm stinging from the blow.

  He was angry. I’d seen this side of Sebastian. All flaring nostrils and narrowed eyes. After two years with a man, you tended to see all sides of him. Usually, this was foreplay for us, but I wasn’t sure I could move past the fact that he’d just called me Jessica. It hurt so badly that it suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.

  I swallowed against the bile that threatened the oncoming sickness and closed my eyes against his furious expression.

  “You know what …” I started. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  I moved to leave, but he stopped me with a hand against the brick beside my head.

  “You just hit me,” he muttered.

 

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