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“If you’re going to sit here and insult me, then what the hell are you even doing here? We could have done this shit over the phone.” I lay my head back on the cushion and close my eyes. I’m still exhausted and not in the mood to deal with my brother’s holier-than-thou attitude.
Now Donovan laughs out loud as though I just said the funniest thing ever.
“Brother, you’re in love with her,” he tells me with laughter lacing his words. “That’s exactly how I feel about Kasey. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t see the signs, considering you spent those weeks in my apartment with me after the shooting and got to witness firsthand what a mess I was without her.”
“Donovan, you can’t be serious. I’ve never been in love, but I don’t think this is that.” Even as I say the words, there’s a whisper in the back of my mind that’s agreeing with him. But I always imagined love making you happy, and I’m anything but at the moment.
“You said it yourself. You’ve never felt this before, so how would you know?” He smugly raises a brow, and I have the urge to smack the look off his face.
He’s not wrong though, which pisses me off even more. I did spend weeks watching him mope over losing Kasey after she and Lindsey were kidnapped. What else could bring that kind of pain over the thought of not being with someone if it wasn’t love? I can’t think of another reason I would be sitting here feeling this hole in my chest where the excitement of being with Abigail once resided.
I hang my head and let out a long breath. “You’re right. Fuck. You’re right.” I squeeze my eyes shut, not caring that my brother sees the pain I’m sure is etched across my face. I was so stupid to think that’s not what this was. All the fighting we’ve been doing for months, then the incredible turn we made in Charleston. Anyone would be a complete idiot not to fall for that fierce woman. She let me behind her carefully constructed walls, and I fell for her. I respect her hardness and her determination. But I fell in love with the softness she doesn’t show the world. The reason she doesn’t show it is because she’s been hurt by the people who were supposed to love her the most and protect her heart. And now, in her eyes, I’m lumped in with that group of assholes.
“What do I do? I love her, and she thinks I cheated on her like her piece-of-shit ex.” I couldn’t be any more screwed.
“You’re going to have to prove to her that you didn’t cheat. I’m not sure how, seeing as from what you told me, she caught you doing something. Too bad you can’t remember what. I’ve known you to get blackout drunk when we were kids and didn’t know any better, but really Jackson. At this age, it’s just embarrassing.” Donovan shakes his head at me in disappointment.
“You don’t have to tell me. That’s the thing though, I don’t remember having more than a couple drinks. I’ve never been drugged, but that’s what this feels like.”
Donovan looks at me questioningly. “Is it possible that’s what happened?”
“I don’t think so. We were at a table with her friends. Why would any of them have done that?” My mind goes back to Helen, my stalker. When she held Lindsey captive for a week, Helen kept her drugged up. Then Kasey, too. Could this be the work of another stalker? No. I won’t let my mind go there. I just can’t think of a reason someone would want to hurt me and Abigail so much that they would stoop to such a low that they could have potentially killed me.
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Regardless of how it happened, she won’t speak to me.”
My brother scoffs. “Are you seriously going to let this go without a fight? Maybe I was wrong, and you don’t really love her.”
I’m instantly enraged. “Fuck that, and fuck you for assuming that shit. I may not know what I’m going to do right now, but I’ll be damned if I let this go.”
Donovan smiles and nods his head. “Alright then. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He leans over and smacks my knee. “You can have today to get your shit together and take another shower because, quite frankly, you smell like shit. Tomorrow we’ll come up with a plan.”
Donovan stands and makes his way to the door.
“Wait, you’re going to help me?” I call out to him as he opens the door. “I thought for sure you would wait to talk to Kasey about it to see how bad I really messed up after she talks to Abigail.”
He smiles. “Let me worry about Kasey. I have ways of making her see things my way.” With that, he walks through the door and shuts it behind him. I don’t know how on earth he plans to get Kasey on my side… ugh, actually his smile gave it away. I would tell him not to get involved for the sake of his relationship, but I’m a selfish asshole. Abigail was right about that one, at least.
Chapter 23
Abigail
Fuckthisdaytofucking hell.
After having to endure a delayed, bumpy-as-hell flight back to Philly, I finally get to my apartment and sweet, sweet silence. Flying commercial is definitely the pits, but I guess I’ve been spoiled by my last two flights. I don’t want to think about those right now. It just reminds me of who I was flying with and what a spectacular asshole that person turned out to be.
The two hours I spent on the plane before freaking out over the takeoff were spent replaying the look on Jackson’s face when I caught him in the closet with Everly. His disoriented gaze haunts me. First, I can’t believe he got so drunk. Second, that he got so drunk he decided sleeping with another woman was acceptable. Who the fuck does that? It seemed awfully coincidental that Davis was there when I caught Jackson and that bitch, Everly, in the supply closet. Considering he had been lurking around during the entire reception, I didn’t think too much about it at the time. He must have seen them go in and wanted to make sure I found out. That has to be it. Good timing on his part, bad timing for Jackson.
Seeing Davis’s smug-as-fuck cheating face, then Jackson’s drunken smile brought back all the emotions of the barbeque, when I caught Davis cheating. I had to get out of there. My heart was shattering, and I wasn’t about to let either of them see me break.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. There sure as shit won’t be a third time. For anyone. The way he was so disgusted with Davis’s behavior and the way he kept saying he was a complete idiot for letting me go made me think there was no way in hell he would do something like that to me. I should have known better. Oh wait, I did know better. This was the exact reason I thought Jackson was a complete prick in the first place. He did this to me already. Stupid me for believing him twice.
Not bothering to turn my phone on when I get off the plane, I head to my apartment. I’m sure there are plenty of calls from Jackson. He was blowing the damn thing up while I was at the airport. I already let Kasey know I was coming home early but didn’t want to talk about it right then. I’m not ready to admit I was a complete idiot to my best friend. I should probably let Julia know I made it home safe, though, since I was a couple hours late getting here.
Walking into my apartment, it looks like nothing has changed. Everything is still where I left it, including the coffee cup in the sink from the morning I left. What’s changed, though, is I feel like more of a fool than I ever did before. That morning my biggest concern was keeping Jackson out of my bed. Now, it’s how to evict him from my heart. That man sure did a number on me. The exact thing I was trying to avoid before I left. The champagne/vodka/wine hangover is one thing to deal with, but this empty feeling in the middle of my chest is something else entirely. No amount of sleep or greasy cheeseburgers will heal this particular ache. I never would have thought I would be stupid enough to give him a shot and have it blow up so spectacularly in such a short amount of time. Days—no, hours—were all it took for him to break my heart. I chuckle at myself as I pick up that damn coffee cup.Stupid, stupid girl.
All of a sudden, the coffee cup is the most offensive thing in my presence, so I do what any sane person would do and throw it against the wall, watching it fly into a million pieces. Huh. I would have thought it was made of stronger stuff than that and not be able to break apart into tiny little pieces. Kind of like me.
I shake my head in disappointment, the shattered glass reminding me that, once again, I’m letting heartbreak steer my decisions. That is simply unacceptable. I am not going to let Jackson Hayes be the reason I start destroying my apartment. At least not anything else. Nope, he can go to hell. I refuse to give him, or any man, more space in my head. It may be easier said than done, but it’s not impossible.
