Now or Never (20 page)

They exchanged a look Em couldn’t begin to understand and then Mason came inside alone, shutting the door behind him.

“Em?” He sat at the foot of the bed. “What’s going on? Ashlyn called me.”

“She called you?” Her throat was sore.

“She’s worried about you.
Frankly, so am I. She said you won’t come out of this room. You won’t talk to her. You’re not even eating. We just want to help, Em.”

Em sighed. They were her friends. She couldn’t have friends like
them—good, caring friends—and expect them to let her keep those walls up while she was hurting behind them.

“I know I screwed up with you. And you have no idea how sorry I am about that. But . . . will you talk to me?”

Exhausted tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t.”

“It’s about him, though, isn’t it?”

For a brief moment Em thought Ashlyn had told him about more than just her self-exile from the world, and the betrayal bit deep before she realized it wasn’t
him
Mason was talking about. It was Jay.

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

“I always will be. I don’t know how to stop.
I’m so sorry, Mason. I never should have . . .”
Em took a deep breath, preparing to admit the ugly truth, “used you like that.”

“Hey. Em.” Mason was shaking his head at her, but he didn’t look angry or upset like she
’d expected. “I’m not an idiot. I knew from the start I wasn’t the one you really wanted. All I hoped for was a chance, and you gave me that. So, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I just hope he realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is before he hurts you any more.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that other than to allow the tears that had been building in her eyes to slip down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve these kind
s of people in her life.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Mason scooted closer and she didn’t fight it when he gathered her in his arms. “Shh. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be all right. But you can’t lock yourself away like this. I know things may seem hard right now, but you can’t give up on the rest of us. We still care about you.
We’re not going to let you waste away in here. So, up you go.”

Before Em knew what was happening, Mason had her on her feet and headed for the door. He handed over control to Ashlyn in the hallway, who steered her into the bathroom.

“Do you need my help with this or not? Because you are taking a shower. You’re starting to stink up my guest room, girl.”

“Ashlyn, I—”

“I’m messing with you. Not about the shower, though. I’ll throw you in there fully clothed if I have to. And then you’re going to eat the spectacular breakfast I slaved over for you so hurry up before it gets cold.”

The hot water did wonders for Em’
s body—inside and out—rinsing away the grime and soothing the aches. If she’d known it would feel that good, she would have locked herself in the bathroom instead of the bedroom.

All too soon a knock sounded on the door and she forced herself to shut off the water. They were waiting for her, and she’d already made them wait long enough.

Wrapping herself up in a towel, Em stepped out of the tub to find jeans and a sweater folded neatly on the toilet lid. Evidently, she couldn’t be trusted to even dress herself. Not that she could blame them after her performance over the past few days. The jeans felt scratchy and stiff after so much time spent in sweats, but simply wearing normal clothes again helped to pull her a little further back into the real world.

With a steadying breath, she chanced a glimpse in the mirror and cringed. Her eyes were puffy and bright red to match the raw, flaky skin on her cheeks. Despite the amount of sleep she’d been getting, dark circles made her look exhausted, and her cheeks looked hollowed out. She looked like crap.

Running a brush through her damp hair and tying it back in a braid, Em shuffled out into the kitchen where she found Ashlyn and Mason seated at the breakfast bar, surrounded by tin dishes filled with every kind of breakfast food imaginable. Sausages, bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast, and waffles made the house smell fantastic and her stomach gave a loud grumble.

“Slaved over it, huh?”
Em eyed the takeout bags in the trash and couldn’t stop the small smile from curving her lips.

“Yeah, well, I drove, and ordered, and lugged it all back here.”

“Actually, I believe it was me that did all the lugging,” Mason chimed in.

“Whatever. Not the point. Shut up and eat.” Ashlyn shoved a plate into Em’s hands loa
ded with everything in sight.

The two of them together always managed to lighten Em’s mood no matter how dark it was, but even they couldn’t convince her stomach to handle that much grease. She picked at the sausage and eggs, sticking mostly to the toast until she couldn’t even think about taking
another bite. The dent she’d made in the plate was laughable, but neither Ash nor Mason were laughing when she pushed the plate away.

“I can’t eat anymore,” she apologized.

“It’s okay.” Mason took her plate, wrapping it up for later. “Your appetite will come back.”

Ashlyn still didn’t look pleased, but she let it go. Em wasn’t sure she’d be as accommodating to her next request.

“I’m really tired.”

“Em, how could you possibly—?”

“It’s been a busy morning. Why don’t we all just relax in the living room for a while?” Mason’s compromise seemed to satisfy Ash, and though it wasn’t what Em had been hoping for, she agreed.

With the lights out and gray clouds blotting out the sun, Em found it difficult to stay awake long enough to concentrate on the movies they were watching. There was a whole stack of them on the
end table, but it didn’t escape Em’s notice that not one of them was a romance.

She picked at her food through both lunch and dinner, but neither of them said a word. Somewhere in the middle of Die Hard forty-
five—or whatever—the day finally caught up with her. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were closing until she peeled them back open to find herself in Mason’s arms.

He laid her on her bed, tucking the blankets close, and brushed a stray hair from her face. “Get some rest. You’ll be okay, Em.”

Her eyes slipped shut again as she mumbled something that sounded like the half-hearted agreement it was. Mason stood, brushing a chaste kiss against her forehead on his way out of the room.

Ch
apter Thirty-five

Jay

Jay stalked after the realtor. A thin woman in a pencil skirt, four inch heels, with a bun tight enough to cut circulation off to her forehead, and a stick up her ass. She poked around, investigating every nook and cranny of the house with zero concern for privacy. Jay gritted his teeth and stood back. He needed to do this. It was the only way.

When the exploration was complete she sat down at the kitchen table, frowning at the rickety chair and scribbled on a piece of paper before sliding it across the cracked fiberglass surface to Jay. He stared back at her like she’d lost her damn mind. They were the only two people in the house. She really couldn’t bring herself to say the number out loud? Could it be that bad?

Apparently so. Jay flipped over the paper and gaped at it in shock. “That can’t be it.”

“It’s the highest I’d be comfortable listing it for. I doubt you’ll even receive that much.”

“But I spent more buying it in the first place just a few months ago. I fixed the counter, and the wall. There used to be—”

“The market’s in a recession. It just isn’t worth what it was a few months ago. If you’d like to wait a while longer, perhaps—”

“No.” He’d waited too long already and received that message loud and clear. “List it.” He would just have to find another way to make up the difference . . . And a new place to live.

“Okay, then.” The woman got up, brushing off her bottom as though just sitting on his furniture could have messed up that fancy-ass skirt of hers. “I’ll be in touch.”

She handed him a business card with her number on it and hightailed it out of there faster
than Jay considered humanly possible in those shoes she was wearing.

He leaned back in his chair and looked around the house. It was small and furnished with second hand items—nothing fancy—but it was home. His home. Em’s home. What the hell were they going to do now?

He’d lost. Everything. He fought so damn hard for so damn long and in the end, he’d lost. It wasn’t fair. The deck was stacked against him. Always had been. But that was life. Maybe for some more than others.

When the doorbell rang again, Jay just assumed Mrs. Stick-up-her-ass had forgotten something. Maybe she found another reason to cut the bottom line on his future. In a deeply foul mood, Jay made no attempt to hide his loud stomps as he headed for the front door.

The instant he threw it open to find Mason-fucking-Locklier standing on his front porch, he regretted it. That jerk-off was just about the last person he wanted to see. Jay attempted to slam the door in his face, but Mason wedged his foot beside the frame.

“I get it, man. I get that you don’t want me here, and I get why, all right? But you need to listen to me!”

“There is nothing you have to say that I—”

“It’s about Em.”

Jay stopped trying to wrestle the door shut. He had his attention now. “Is she okay?”

“Not really.”

“If you hurt her—”

“Not me.
You
, man. You hurt her.”

“That’s bullshit. I’d
die
before I hurt Em.”

“I know. That’s the only reason I’m standing here talking to you instead of busting your face in. Whatever it is
you think you’re doing, I am telling you, you are hurting her.” The vehemence behind Mason’s words bit at him like an angry guard dog, and Jay’s heart bled.

“I’m
protecting
her!”

“Whatever you’re protecting her from couldn’t possibly hurt her any more than you have. You’re hurting her
by
protecting her! Open your damn eyes! You keep pushing her away and she is going to fall off that goddamn cliff. That girl is a wreck because of you and your ‘protection’!”

Jay opened his mouth to respond—to spew all sorts of denials, accusations, explanations, or whatever other bullshit was going to come out of his mouth—and realized . . . he couldn’t. He couldn’t deny that he hurt her. He knew he would before he ever did it. There was no excuse or explanation for that. He’d hurt her. Knowingly. Intentionally.

“I was trying to keep her safe.”

“Then keep her safe, man. Don’t push her awa
y. Don’t leave her defenseless in her own in misery.”

Misery?
What had he done? He’d been trying to protect her body, but what had he done to her heart in the process?

“I just . . . wanted her to be happy.” Jay barely recognized his own voice.

“She was happy with you. By leaving, all you did was take her happiness away. It’s obvious. That light in her eyes is
gone.
She cries more than she smiles. She never laughs anymore. She hardly leaves that room, for chrissakes. You’re trying to keep her safe? Congratulations, asshole, you broke her damn heart. And you’re well on your way to breaking her.”

No. That couldn’t be true. Em was so strong. She didn’t need him. Not like . . . he needed her. But she did. She’d been trying to tell him that all along. They were the missing pieces of each other. She needed him just as much as he needed her. Each and every ounce of pain he’d caused himself, he done the same to her. Worse because she didn’t understand why.

Jay slumped against the door frame. It wasn’t his father, or her uncle, or even himself he had to protect her from. It was his insecurities. Those were what could—
had
—hurt her most. He was such a fool.

“What did I do?” The words came out on an exhale, so low he doubted
anyone else could hear them. So he was stunned when they echoed back to him shrouded by mocking laughter.

“What did you do? Drove another woman away? Did you drive this one right into an early grave like you did your mother?”

“No.” The gut wrenching fear churning in his stomach at the image of Em bloody and lifeless on a tiled floor was enough to mask the contempt for the man standing on the walk behind Mason. “No!”

What did he do?
What did he do!
He pushed her away. He wrecked
her. He
broke
her. What if she . . . ? No. Not Em. She wouldn’t take the easy way out. Not like his mother had. She was stronger than that. Braver.

Mason glanced back and forth between Jay and his father, at an obvious loss as to what was going on. He needed to get rid of him. And fast.

“You need to go, Mason.”

“What’s going—?”

“Go!”

“Oh, don’t leave yet.” His father joined Mason on the deck and shoved his way inside past a flustered Jay. “The party’s just getting started. Maybe you should call Em. She could join us—”

“Son of a bitch.” Jay whirled around to face off against his father, dismissing Mason’s presence. “Enough! I’m done playing these fucking games. Get out!”

“You sure you want me to go, boy? I leave here empty handed and you know where my next stop will be.”

“You lay one hand on her and I swear to God, I will kill you.”             

“You think so? You think you’re man enough to take me?”

It’s about damn time
, was all Jay could think. He was done being afraid. Done feeling helpless, and alone. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“Go to hell.” Jay launched himself at his father before he lost his nerve and felt the familiar sting of a blow to the face.

He slammed into the wall, but pushed himself back up, landing a few blows of his own. During the exchange, he only vaguely noted Mason’s disappearance. Good. The last thing Jay wanted was a witness to this shit. With his attention momentary diverted, his father landed a sucker punch to Jay’s gut, grounding him. Jay struggled to reclaim some of the air forced from his lungs by the blow as a foot connected with his left temple, ricocheting his head off the table leg.

The coppery taste of b
lood filled his mouth and he spat on the floor, dragging himself back to his feet. He wasn’t backing down. Not anymore.

“You think you’re a big man now? Now that you got your own house? Your own car? Your own girl? But you
don’t,
do you? Where is your girl, Julian? I don’t see her here with you. I don’t see her in your house. In your bed. Did she finally have enough of your shit?”

He landed another blow to Jay’s face, but his words hurt more than any physical pain.

“You are nothing, boy. You are nothing and no one. And you never will be. You’re
weak
and
pathetic
. And still that girl chose you. So how did manage to lose her? Did she finally see you for what you really are? You think you’re so much better than me, but you’re just like me. The apple doesn’t fall far, Julian. You’re spoiled. Rotten to the core.”

Jay cradled his head against the wall trying to fight off his father’s merciless words. He heard the familiar click of his father’s belt coming undone, but made no attempt to move.

“You’re a disease, boy. All you bring is pain and suffering to those around you. And deep down, you enjoy it.”

The belt fell over his exposed back with a biting slap. The fiery pain barely registered. Em had
given him the most precious thing in the world—her heart—and he’d broken it. Broken
her.
He had successfully taken the one and only good thing in his entire miserable life, and he’d thrown it away on insecurities and fear. He deserved everything he got.