Текст книги "Clash"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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I did go back into the restaurant, ignoring the looks of curiosity and sneers of disapproval; I even managed to make small talk with my parents and eat a bite of everything that was served. I went through the motions, put on the It’s all good face, but it wasn’t. Every second that ticked by drilled another hole in my heart. I wanted to be with him, to comfort whatever needed comforting, to be assured we were going to be all right. That we’d weather this storm.

After lunch, I showed my parents around New York. We saw the sights, exchanged some more small talk, and the ache in my heart went deeper.

“Honey, are you sure you don’t want to stay with us at the hotel tonight?” Mom asked, turning in her seat as Dad drove through Juilliard’s campus. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow, but you could sleep in, order room service, and we could arrange to have a cab drive you back.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a load of homework to get cracking on and I need to rehearse for the winter recital,” I said, looking out the window, trying to drone out “Blackbird” playing through the speakers. Even in a rental, dad had to have the Beatles blaring.

“You’ve got homework over Thanksgiving break?” Dad piped up, glancing in the rearview mirror.

“Tell me about it,” I said, sounding as numb as I felt. “They’re slave drivers here.”

Dad made a clucking sound with his tongue, shaking his head. “This it, Lucy in the sky?” Dad asked, slowing in front of the dark dorm and peering up at it.

“Home sweet home,” I said, going for the handle of the full-sized rental they’d splurged on. In fact, they’d splurged on the whole trip, the whole day. And a robot would have been just as good of company.

Stepping out of the car, I glanced over at the Mazda. The snow had died off, but a good couple of inches covered it.

“Are you going to be all right, Lucy?” Mom asked, stepping out and glancing over the car at me.

“She’s going to be great,” Dad answered for me, stepping out of the car and giving me a private smile.

I nodded because that’s all the lie I was capable of right now.

“Thanks for coming all this way,” I said, giving my dad a hug. “And sorry things went so wonky.”

“Life is wonky, my Lucy in the sky,” he said, patting my cheek. “It’s to be expected.”

For someone who had been declared mentally unstable over five years ago, my father was a very wise man.

Mom came around the car and wrapped me into her arms. “Everything will be fine, sweetheart,” she said into my ear. “Men just need time to sort these things out. They don’t have the need to talk the issue into a pulp like we do.”

And for someone who’d been an ice queen for the past five years, she could be surprisingly warm. “Thanks, Mom,” I replied. “That sounds like good advice.”

“I’m the expert,” she said, smiling in front of me. “I’ve lived it for the past five years,” she mouthed, glancing back at Dad.

“Have a safe flight,” I said, giving them each a quick peck on the cheek before heading up the walkway. “See you at Christmas.”

“Love you, sweetheart,” Mom said as they watched me head towards my dorm.

They obviously weren’t going to take their eyes off of me until I was locked safely inside. To parents whose children didn’t grow up in New York City, it was a place where murder happened around every corner and a criminal was lurking in every shadow. I was pretty sure my mom had been clutching a canister of mace when she stepped out of the car.

Sliding my key card in front of the register, I pushed the door open. Before stepping inside, I waved at them. They waved back, smiling at me, Mom tucked under Dad’s arm, looking like the parents they’d been when I was in grade school.

At least one thing in my life was looking up.

The dorm hall was quiet. Silent. Most everyone was back home celebrating with their families, while the few that remained behind were likely out celebrating late into the night with their friends.

Shoving open the stairwell door, I walked down the empty hall, contemplating my next move. I was fighting every instinct to jump into the Mazda and not stop until I’d found Jude. I knew I should fight to stay put and do as he’d requested. Sit tight, give him some space, and he’d call me when whatever fit of rage that had risen had calmed.

But how long until he called? Did he mean tonight? Tomorrow? Next week?

Thumping my head into my door as I unlocked it, I toyed with the idea of flipping a coin. Thankfully, I came to the conclusion that was a disaster waiting to happen. I wasn’t going to let fate make my decisions for me. That was my job. I’d rather be the one to blame for making the wrong decision than fate getting all the credit when I made a right one.

Switching the light on, I stood in the doorway, staring at the bed where Jude’s suitcase and the pink rose he’d given me hours earlier rested. The rose was already starting to wilt.

Staring at that flower, the pink petals curling at the ends as the life bled out of it, helped me make my decision. Turning off the light, I locked the door back up and ran down the hall. I wasn’t going to let what we had die due to neglect.

I was down the stairs and out the door less than a few minutes after my parents had pulled away. I had yet to purchase one of those snow scraper thingeys native New Yorkers seemed to have at least two of in the trunks of their cars on any given day of the year, so I used my forearm to scrape the snow off the windows before tossing myself inside.

I blasted the heaters as soon as I started it up and punched the gas a little too hard given the winter driving conditions. The car fishtailed a pattern in the snow before I got it under control. I hadn’t made it out of the parking lot and I was already losing control.

Taking a slow breath, I pressed down carefully on the gas and the car behaved.

By the time I’d left Long Island, I was feeling just comfortable enough with driving in the snow to be dangerous, but the roads were quiet and would only get quieter by the time I made it to Syracuse. It would be well past two a.m., maybe even later with the roads, before I pulled into Jude’s gravel driveway.

I didn’t know that’s where he’d gone‌—‌he could be anywhere‌—‌but that would be my starting point. I’d look under every nook and explore every cranny of New York until I found him. I didn’t care that he told me to leave him alone, to give him time to sort out his shit. I also knew there was truth in what my mom had said about men not wanting to talk the issue to death.

I didn’t need to talk‌—‌I just needed him to know I was here for him. I just needed to have him hold me while he figured out what needed figuring. I needed him to know I wasn’t going anywhere and he couldn’t send me somewhere that wasn’t where he was.

I just needed to have him look me in the eyes and know that everything was going to be okay.

It was after three by the time I cut the ignition outside of Jude’s. The snow had made the trip tricky and added another hour to the five hour journey. I wasn’t tired anymore though, because parked across the front lawn was Jude’s truck, the evidence of this afternoon’s incident, where his truck became a punching bag, facing my direction.

The usual rabble of cars dotted the street and driveway‌—‌not a party night showing‌—‌but every night at this place was some sort of party night.

Walking across the lawn, I made sure to go slow because the falling temperatures had made most of the state of New York a thin sheet of ice. I still had my Mary Jane’s on and they weren’t exactly ideal shoes to be tramping through an ice field in.

I made it up the walk and stairs and, resting my hand over the doorknob, I exhaled, realizing I’d been in such a hurry to get here, I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to say.

I didn’t need to say anything, I reminded myself. I just needed to wrap my arms around him and let him know I was here for him. However he needed me to be. Just as long as it wasn’t being left behind on some street in Soho.

I didn’t knock, because no one would have answered and knocking wasn’t a formality this place adhered to. In fact, there were no formalities that dwelled within the walls of this house, other than calling a cab for the latest girl you’d screwed.

A few guys were milling around in the living room, eating pizza and playing video games, but no one noticed me when I came in. Jude wasn’t amongst them, so I jogged up the stairs, hoping my search would end in his bedroom. I didn’t need an audience for however Jude was going to react to me showing up in the middle of the night.

His door was closed, no sounds coming from it other than the stream of the shower. Twisting the door open, I stepped inside. I was already heading towards the bathroom when I realized Jude wasn’t the one in the shower, causing the billows of steam to drift into the room.

He was draped over his bed, in a drunk coma.

Buck naked.

His fingers were still wound around an almost empty bottle of tequila. My mind couldn’t keep up with everything that was coming at it. Jude. Naked. Bed. Drunk. Tequila. Shower.

Just as my heart starting trilling with a realization I didn’t want to face, the shower shut off. I wanted to turn and run out of his room and this house and pretend I hadn’t seen any of it. I wanted to wake up tomorrow with a mind erased of everything from twelve p.m. yesterday to 3a.m. today.

I heard the shower curtain slide open and, just as I was backing up towards the door, someone sauntered out of the bathroom. As naked as Jude and still wet from the shower, Adriana’s gaze shifted my way, her face falling for one second. And then it lifted into a smile. “Oops,” she said, turning towards me so I could see every naked inch of the body Jude had enjoyed. “We weren’t exactly expecting you.”

I kept moving backwards, not able to get out of this room fast enough. In my hurry, my hip smacked into the side of Jude’s dresser. Something fell to the floor, shattering. I didn’t need to look down to confirm what had just shattered into an unfixable mess.

The noise jolted Jude awake. Shaking his head, the first thing he noticed was the bottle he was clutching. His eyebrows came together. Examining his naked arms next, his eyes traveled back the length of him. A frown was added to his expression. Then he noticed Adriana, in all her naked, wet splendor, taking a break from smirking at me to shoot a wink his way.

His expression ironed out, his face paling, and then, when his eyes swept my way, his whole face broke. Like mine had.

I wasn’t going to lose it in front of her. I wasn’t going to let her see that she’d won. Finally reaching the door, I threw myself out of it, already sprinting down the hall when Jude’s shout rang after me.

“Luce!”

I didn’t stop‌—‌I didn’t even slow down. I would never stop or slow or sigh over him saying Luce again. Barreling down the stairs, I ran into a hard chest.

“Whoa,” Tony said, grabbing hold of me. “Lucy? What are you doing here?” he asked, looking down at me. “Why are you upset?”

Throwing a look over my shoulder, I dodged out of Tony’s hold. I didn’t see him, but his voice was getting closer.

“Luce!” Jude shouted again down the hall. “Wait!”

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Rushing outside the door, I leapt down the stairs, sliding almost the entire way to the Mazda. My hands were shaking, but I managed to pull the keys out of my coat pocket and start the ignition. Punching the car into drive, a shadow eclipsed the yellow light streaming out of the open front door.

Jude.

I hit the gas, forgetting I was on a plane of ice. My tires spun, getting me nowhere.

“No, Luce!” he shouted so loudly I could hear it across a lawn and through the windows of my car.

Taking a breath, I eased down on the accelerator this time and gained some traction. Encouraging the Mazda forward, I picked up some speed.

Before I’d gotten more than a few car lengths away, I caught sight of Jude leaping down the stairs and running across the lawn after me. He was still naked, nothing but a pair of boxers clutched in front of his nether region.

Gripping the steering wheel, I pressed the accelerator lower, praying I wouldn’t wind up in a ditch at the end of the road.

“Lucy!” he shouted, banging into the side of the car.

I screamed in surprise, pressing the accelerator lower.

Pounding on my window, he ran alongside the car. “Stop, Lucy!” he yelled. “Don’t do this.”

I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t look at what I’d lost so soon after losing it. Keeping my eyes on the road, I bit my lip to keep from crying and shook my head before punching the accelerator.

He stopped being able to keep pace by the time I got to the end of the block, and even though I swore I wouldn’t, I looked in the rearview mirror.

He was crouching in the middle of the road, his breath steaming up the night air, and his head hung like he was both praying and accepting his punishment.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I don’t know how I made it to the parking lot of a hotel outside of Monticello‌—‌in one safe piece‌—‌but I guessed it had something to do with angels. There’d been numerous alerts coming through the radio advising people to stay off the roads, and if one had to go out for an emergency purpose, to make sure they strapped on chains.

So the fact a young girl who had never driven on snow or ice in her life managed to drive her car that didn’t even have snow tires on it hundreds of miles without bending it around a median in a state of choking sobs, I knew some kind of ethereal being or beings had to have had a hand in it.

Grabbing my purse, I popped out of the car. My heels slipped and slid across the parking lot, managing to make it inside the lobby safely. The air was perfumed with coffee and some sort of chemical cleaner. But it was clean and it was somewhere Jude wouldn’t be able to find me.

I knew he’d come looking‌—‌I’d been checking in my rearview mirror every mile, expecting to see the square headlights of his truck shining down on me, but they never had. But then again, who knows? Maybe I’d overestimated him. Maybe he got the whole chasing after me thing out of his system when he ran balls to the walls down the middle of an icy road, wearing nothing but a boxer loin cloth. The thought made me more depressed. I wanted to be chased, in some part of me I didn’t want to acknowledge‌—‌I wanted to know I meant more to him than giving up after a few minutes.

But then I remembered Adriana’s glistening naked body and that smirk of hers and I swore I never wanted to see Jude Ryder ever again.

I walked carefully across the lobby, like I was still traversing over ice, and the receptionist looked up. Her smile was warm. “Good morning,” she greeted.

“Hi,” I replied because there was nothing “good” about this morning. “I need a room if you have one.”

I hadn’t realized this one might be full. The thought of getting back in the car and white-knuckling a few more miles to the next place made my stomach turn.

“We sure do,” she said, thrumming her fingers over the keys. “How long will you be staying with us?”

As long as possible. To the end of time.

“Until Sunday,” I said. I didn’t want to be in my room or in a place I could be found until I absolutely had to be.

“Check-in isn’t until three, so I’m technically supposed to charge you for four nights,” she said, swiping a card key through a device.

“That’s fine,” I said, pulling out my wallet.

“But it’s Thanksgiving weekend and I like to give ‘technically’ a break on the holidays,” she said, looking up at me with that smile again.

“Thanks,” I said, handing her my card.

I didn’t know how much it would cost, I didn’t even know if the only room they had left was the presidential suite. I just had to crawl into a bed and let sleep take me away from reality for a while.

She took my card, studying my face. Her smile lined into concern. “Honey, are you all right?”

Great. I was a walking, obvious exhibit of emotion. I suppose my red-rimmed eyes and puffy face gave away something wasn’t “all right.”

I nodded. “Just tired,” I said, wishing she could run my card faster so I could get on my way.

Having me sign a copy of my receipt, she handed me my card back. “You give us a call at the front desk if you need anything,” she said, resting her hand over one of mine. Patting it, she gave me another smile. “Lord knows I love them, but men are one giant pain in the ass.”

I didn’t ask why in the entire population of hotel receptionists I’d wound up in front of the most perceptive one, because the irony of it just sort of fit the tone of the last twenty-four hours.

Trying to smile back, I tapped my card key on the counter. “Agreed,” I replied, before heading towards the elevator.

I made it to the third floor; I even made it down the hall and into my room before the next batch of tears came. For someone who loathed crying, I was eating a lot of crow today. Taking a few seconds to kick off my shoes and coat, I slid under the covers and closed my eyes. I was asleep before the next tear could fall onto my pillow.

I spent the next three days never leaving my room. I slept almost all of Friday, watched the television unseeingly after that, and didn’t order my first meal until Saturday afternoon because I’d lost my appetite. Even at that, I had to force myself to finish half of my toasted cheese sandwich. In between channel surfing and sleeping, I took showers. I preferred them to baths because I could pretend I wasn’t crying when I was in the shower. I even tried to find a ballet studio I could dance at just to get some of the pain sweltering inside of me out. Of course, not a single studio would be opened this holiday weekend.

I’d turned off my phone when I woke up on Friday because Jude had been calling it every half hour since earlier that morning. My guess was that he’d made it back to my dorm by then, only to discover I wasn’t there, and was going nuts trying to figure out where I was or worried what had become of me on those roads.

Turning my phone off, I reminded myself that a man who slept with another woman didn’t have the right to worry about me or be assured I was safe anymore.

I slept late into Sunday, wanting to delay the inevitable. The hotel had been like this warm safety blanket, keeping me out of line of the storm coming for me, but it couldn’t hide me forever. I had reality to get back to and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin my life over one guy who I shouldn’t have let into mine in the first place.

The ice and snow had melted by Friday afternoon, so the roads and my Mazda got along much better this trip, although the roads were a hundred times busier this trip thanks to all the holiday vacationers making their way back home.

It was late when I made it back to Juilliard. I told myself it wasn’t because I’d been stalling, but because I’d wanted to take in the sights of the city from behind the windshield of my car. Of course I’d been living in a state of denial all weekend, so why should I stop now?

The parking lot was almost full again, almost every light in the rooms turned on and streaming with people back from a long weekend. Pulling into my assigned space, I turned off the car and gave myself a few long breaths before getting out. I couldn’t put this off any longer.

Jude and his truck weren’t anywhere in view, so maybe I’d been right and I hadn’t been worth more than a few minutes’ chase and a gazillion phone calls. The thought was one of the most depressing ones I’d had to date.

I still had on the same outfit I’d left the dorm in on Thursday, but it was crumbled, dirty, and in need of a trashcan now.

I could smell the signs and faintly hear the sounds, even from the stairwell, that India was back. That was just what I needed. To curl up next to her while she made me some kind of hippy tea that contained I didn’t want to know what, while I spilled my guts and she gave me some sage advice that was along the lines of sicing a voodoo witch on him.

Shoving open the stairwell door, which felt twice as heavy as it used to, I stiffened as soon as I turned down the hall. The same figure, in almost the same position I’d peered at in my rearview mirror four nights ago, was crouched down the hall, staring at my door like he was begging it to let him in.

I’d just taken my first step back towards the stairwell when Jude’s shoulders stiffened, right before his head snapped my way.

“Luce,” he breathed, saying it like it was a prayer.

I shook my head, my eyes filling with more damn tears as I kept backing away. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t do Jude Ryder anymore because it was going to wind up being the reason for my death or institutionalization.

“Luce. Please,” he begged, working his way into a stand. He wobbled, like he had run out of strength or was shit-face drunk.

I kept backing away. It was the only way I knew to keep me protected from him. I’d just keep retreating to the end of the earth if I had to.

“Luce,” he repeated, his entire face twisting. Balancing against the wall, Jude took a couple steps my direction. But he didn’t make it any farther than one before his legs gave out, his whole frame collapsing onto his knees.

It was instinctual, not rational, how I responded. Rushing towards him, I had this flash of panic that he was dying. I’d never seen Jude weak; I didn’t think it was in him. Vulnerable, sure, but never weak. And here he was, not able to support his own weight more than a step at a time.

Sliding to the ground next to him, I could tell right away his lack of balance and coordination wasn’t alcohol induced. His strained breath only smelt of Jude, and his eyes were clear.

Except when they lifted to meet mine, they clouded with some emotion that ran so deep I was sure I could never decipher it.

“God, Luce,” he breathed, his breath coming in haggard spurts, “don’t do that to me again.”

His arms folded around me, pulling me against him with all the strength he had left. It wasn’t his normal embrace, the one that felt like those arms could shield me from the whole world; this one was hollow and even a bit awkward.

Pushing away from him, assured he wasn’t going to die any time soon, my sorrow morphed into anger. Partly to do with him being here when he didn’t have a right to be here anymore, and partly because I had to look on what I’d lost again. His face lined with pain when I pushed him away.

“Don’t ever do that to you again?” I spit the words back at him. I didn’t care how weak he was; he didn’t deserve even the thinnest filter of mercy. “Don’t ever do that to you again?” I couldn’t seem to get anything else out.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at the ground, “don’t do that to me again. Do you know how god damned worried I’ve been about you?” His chest was heaving with his words, like oxygen wouldn’t take up residence in his lungs. “Do you know how many times I’ve searched this city over making sure you weren’t dead in some back alley? Do you know how many hospitals, police stations, and news stations I called every hour to make sure they hadn’t found you at the bottom of some ditch?” His eyes lifted back to mine, and they flashed onyx. “So, yeah, don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Fine,” I said, giving his chest another shove. For the first time, I could actually move him. “I’ll stop doing that to you when you stop screwing skanks behind my back. Oh wait, I’m done with you and your cheating ass ways, so you can screw whoever the hell you want.” Shoving him again, I bolted up, lunging towards my door. I needed a buffer between us right now, preferably a state or two, but I’d have to settle for a dorm room door.

“You are not done with me,” he said, his teeth gritted as he walked on his knees towards me.

“Oh, yes, I am. I’m so done with you, Jude Ryder!” I shouted, spinning on him once I’d thrown open the door. “I’M DONE IN!” Slamming the door shut, it bounced right back. Jude had wedged himself inside the doorway and I’d managed to slam that door hard into the side of his face.

He grimaced, but it looked like it was more due to the kind of pain that wasn’t physical.

“Hell and Hades, you two!” India shouted, springing up from her chair in the corner and lunging across the room at us. “Stop making a scene. You’re not the first couple to have a lover’s quarrel, so stop acting like it.”

Pushing me to the side, she leaned over Jude, glancing down the hall. “Sorry,” she called out, “we’re working out some issues down here. We won’t keep y’all up all night.”

Waving down the hall, she glanced down at Jude, who was leaning into the doorway, breathing like he still couldn’t catch his breath and staring into the floor like he was waiting for it to swallow him up. Winding her arms beneath Jude’s, she pulled him inside the room. “Get in here, you crazy son of a bitch.”

Once Jude was inside, she shut the door and slammed her back against it. Exhaling, she looked over at me where I stood at the foot of my bed, arms crossed and looking everywhere but at Jude.

“Hear the man out,” she said like it was an order. “He’s earned it and you deserve it.”

“Wait,” my eyes flashed to India’s, “you’ve already talked with him? You actually believe the pile of lies he gave you?”

India wasn’t gullible and believed, as a species, humans weren’t to be trusted, so whatever Jude had said to her had to have been impressive.

One big, fat, impressive lie.

“That’s right,” she said, looking at me like I was behaving like a child. “You got a problem with that?”

“Only a few million,” I smarted back. “Friend,” I tacked on to drill the guilt in deeper.

It didn’t work. India was a pillar that wouldn’t be penetrated by any devices of guilt.

“Listen, friend,” she added, arching a brow. “He’s here. You’re here. Talk this shit out and then you can go back to hating his sorry ass when it’s all out there on the table.”

Walking towards me, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me one long, tight squeeze. Her long, gold earrings chimed against my shoulder. “Talk. Listen. I know it seems hard, but it really isn’t,” she said, moving towards the door. “I’ll be in the commons if you need me.”

Leaning over Jude, she patted his cheek. He didn’t respond. “Here’s your chance. Don’t waste it.”

Opening the door, India glanced back down at Jude’s crumpled form, frowning. “See if you can get this man to eat or drink something, Lucy. He’s going to be knocking on death’s door if he doesn’t get some fluids in him. And you better drink, you crazy bastard,” she said, toeing at Jude’s leg. “Because a person can only go seven days without fluids before their system shuts down. I’m guessing you’re on day four.”

Before closing the door behind her, India gave me a small smile of encouragement, and then it was just Jude and me.

As pissed as I was at him, a nagging twist poked at me when I really took him in. Weak, weary, barely able to catch his breath, staring at the floor without seeing it.

“Have you really not had anything to eat or drink in four days?” I asked, moving over to the mini fridge.

“I can’t remember,” he answered, his voice as weak as the rest of him.

“Damn fool,” I muttered, collecting a couple bottles of water into my arms and a bar of chocolate India and I kept stashed in the back for emergency purposes. A man about to pass out from not eating in days qualified as emergency purposes.

Falling to my knees in front of him, I unscrewed the lid from one of the bottles. “Here,” I said, lifting it to his lips, “drink.”

It wasn’t a request.

He didn’t move; his head just hung there, his fists clenching and unclenching over his thighs.

“Jude,” I said, lifting his chin until we were at eye level. “Drink this. Please.”

His eyes were almost as hollow as his embrace had felt in the hall. Something twisted in my gut, something that ran deeper than anything else had.

He parted his lips and I lifted the bottle to his mouth and tilted it so a steady stream would fall in.

He swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on mine, gulping down everything I was giving him until the bottle was empty.

I had to look away, because I couldn’t look into those eyes any longer. The gray had drained out of them, leaving nothing but black behind.

“Better?” I asked, tossing the bottle to the side and handing him the next.

He nodded, looking like he was about to pull me to him.

“Good,” I said, lifting my hand and slapping him across the cheek. I hadn’t realized I was going to do it, but it felt damn good.

At least it felt good until his eyes flinched closed as a red hand blossomed over his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning towards him and inspecting his face.

I’d just hit Jude. Hard. And I hadn’t even known I was about to do it.

Hang on because this roller coaster had reached the summit and was about to race straight down.

“Jude, god,” I said, fussing over his face. I’d been reduced to an emotional, instinctual monster. “I’m sorry.”

“Do it again,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

“What?” I said, hoping I’d heard him wrong or was mistaking what he meant. “No.”

“Do it”‌—‌opening his eyes, they locked onto mine‌—‌”again.”

This roller coaster was going down. All the way down. “No,” I said again, wondering if my slap had knocked something loose.

“Damn it it, Luce,” he hollered, grabbing my wrist as I tried to scoot away, “hit me again!”

“No!” I was shouting now too. “Let me go, Jude!”

“Hit me!” he yelled, raising my hand above him and pounding it down against his face. “Again!” Grabbing my other hand, he flattened it and drove it into his other cheek.

“Stop!” I cried, trying to pull my wrists free of his grasp. His hands formed liked vices over mine, not letting me go. He drove the other palm into his face, and then the other. “Stop,” I whimpered, my throat contracting around my sobs.

He didn’t. Hit after hit, Jude slapped my hands against his face until they were tingling.

“Jude, stop,” I cried, my sobs rocking me. His cheeks were red, capillaries broken on the surface. “Please.”

Then, as suddenly as he’d started, he freed my hands, letting them fall back into my lap. They stung, like hundreds of needles were poking at the surface, but what I felt inside hurt the worst.

I loved the broken man kneeling in front of me‌—‌loved him like I never would another. But I couldn’t be with him. For plenty of reasons, this latest episode the most recent.