Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(149)

The irrational hopelessness doubled me over.

Inviting someone in always left me broken and doomed to making concessions with what I wanted out of life.

My mother was seeing a grief counselor now just to cope—cope with the tragedy that he’d somehow had caused.

He knew.

Son of a bitch! He knew!

He knew that night he ran out of my living room!

What was this? Was this relationship appeasing his guilt?

Anguish flamed over me.

Watching him from afar as he smiled and laughed, so carefree and unaffected, while I crumbled inside. I couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not when I wanted to scream and cry and throw up. I needed to gather my thoughts.

I found a settee at the end of the hallway. Seeing Nikki’s smug face when she came out of the ladies’ room was the final straw. My hands shook as I searched for a taxi service. Cell reception inside the building was poor. The little icon on my screen swirling in a circle mirrored my emotions. My eyes stung.

“Erin?” Adam’s voice echoed.

I knew if I looked up he’d see the unshed tears in my eyes.

“Babe, are you okay?”

I held my breath, afraid to let any sound escape.

Adam crouched down in front of me. “Erin, what’s wrong?”

EVERYTHING!

The word rattled around inside me; a fury of sound punishing my sanity. “Nothing. I’m, um… I’m just not feeling well.”

“You sick?”

I’m dying.

“Can you?” Breathe. Just breathe. “I’m going to go home. You stay. Have fun. I’ll call a cab.”

“If you’re sick, I’ll take you home.”

I thought you were my home.

I knew he was concerned but inner rage was warring with my rationale. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll get our coats.” He was already taking a step away.

“No, really. You stay. I can find my own way home.”

That instantly displeased him. “Stay put. I’ll be right back. You’re not leaving here without me.”

God, why did he have to be nice? Why couldn’t he be a typical jerk and leave me to my own devices so I could hate him even more? Maybe he should take me directly to the hospital, because the pain consuming me was excruciating.

My pulse was elevated, galloping instead of beating.

My skin felt like it was on fire. My chest was tight. My inner practitioner started listing symptoms and treatments.

He. Knew.

He stayed away from me for an entire week, sneaking around my house, making repairs to my shit. Why? To make himself feel better? He’d said he tried to stay away from me. I distinctly remembered those words coming out of his mouth.

And now I’d put my heart out there. Given it to him.

I needed to make an appointment with a Cardiologist as soon as possible. Maybe some crack whore died tonight and I could receive her hardened, uncaring heart. I’d give her mine willingly. Wouldn’t take long to gather a transplant team together; anything to take the pain away.

Agony.

Adam held my long wool coat out for me. “Stay inside. It’s raining. I’ll get the truck.”

My eyes slid closed while the rest of me crumbled.

It was a silent twenty-five minute drive; my only words being that I wanted him to take me home to my house when it appeared that he was headed to his. “You don’t want to stay at my place?”

He sounded wounded; his expectations were not my own.

If I’d only waited another ten minutes instead of running to the restroom. Why did Ellie feel the need to ruin me so effectively? Did she have an ulterior motive? Didn’t matter. The fact still remained that he knew and didn’t tell me. I could understand, in a way, why he chose to keep it secret. We’d be right here where we were now, well, me at least, but it would have happened weeks ago.

Too many thoughts were slamming into each other, flashing like the lightning that rippled through the sky. I couldn’t form a solid resolution on anything. Feelings too numerous to identify bombarded the spaces in between, leaving me dizzy and disoriented within my own head.

“I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

“You feeling that bad? Do you think it was something you ate?”

The only answer I was capable of was in the form of a non-committal shrug.

Adam pulled into my miniscule driveway and shut off the lights.

My mind told me not to, but the swell of emotions pushed the words out in a whisper. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

He turned toward me. “Tell you what?”

“About the accident. About the chase before it.”

“Jesus,” Adam groaned, cupping his head in his hand.

“You knew. For weeks you’ve known.”

“Erin. What do you want me to say?”

Nothing. There was nothing to be said, just a final admission.

“Do you want children?”

“What?” Shadows from the streetlights broke through the rivulets of rain, casting gray streaks over his questioning face. “Kids? Yeah, I guess. Eventually. Why are you—”

A dry ache formed in the hollow of my throat. “I don’t want children.”

His confusion turned to shocked surprise. “You don’t?”

My decision was absolute. “No. Never.”