Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) (61 page)

I force myself to stay
calm. I don’t need to get into a fight with them right before they
take off. They’ll be back in two weeks. I’ve waited six years to
find out the truth to something I don’t even have the questions to,
I can wait fourteen more days.

Standing up quicker
than I thought was possible, I snatch the bags from my brother and
sit back down. I didn’t even get a plate. I ignore Connor’s jab
and dig into my food. After shoveling half of my Pad-see-ew into my
mouth, I glance up to see my brother and Connor watching me.

“When’s the last
time you ate?” Logan asks, voice full of concern.

“Eh . . . This
morning?” I hate that it comes out a question. And hate even more
that I feel like I can’t trust them. I know they won’t tell me, I
need to remember on my own. Their eyes narrow.

“Relax. I was busy.
I’m eating now.” I don’t mention that I was busy forcing myself
to remember something that I’ve chosen to forget. I went for a
swim, hoping the water would relax my mind enough for me to latch
onto my memories. No luck.

Lowering his food,
Logan studies me. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can always meet
us out there.”

“Yes! I’ll book
your flight now.” Connor plucks his phone off the table.

“No!” I force
myself to relax.

If I react, they’ll
continue in this pointless charade until I agree to go. Which I can’t
afford to do at the moment. I won’t be able to keep my thoughts to
myself. I’ll lash out at them, and possibly ruin their meeting
because they’ll be concentrating on me.

“Ada—” Logan
starts, but I cut him off.

“No. I’m fine
really.”

This isn’t their
fault. They weren’t the ones that chose to forget, I did. Heck,
they might not even know. There’s a lot they don’t know about Jax
and me. As much as I want to believe that, I can’t. It’s a gut
feeling that I can’t ignore.

“I have bad days more
than good days, but I can honestly say I’m going to be okay. I
haven’t been able to say that since the accident and actually mean
it. I’m okay, Logan.”

Logan doesn’t respond
for so long I panic. I can see how much of a struggle this is for
him. He’s used to telling me what to do and I go with it, always
wanting to make his life easier and not really caring what I do.

I care now. I’m
taking charge of my life.

“Okay,” Logan says
with a wary smile.

“Okay,” I repeat.

The rest of the evening
passes in a blur. My phone beeps with a new text message, I ignore
it. I want to spend the evening with them, without interruptions.
Which is hard since I have to keep reminding myself to focus on them
instead of my missing memory. No matter how much I try, I can’t get
Jax out of my head. Ironic, the one thing I want to remember involves
the one person I want to forget.

Pushing back the
thoughts about Jax, I listen to their conversation.

“Yeah. I have
everything taken care of. Relax, Logan. Not my first time,” Connor
tells my brother.

“Sorry man. This is
just—”

“I know,” Connor
says with a grin.

I tune them out again
as they talk about business. The two of them can get lost in their
own conversation for ages. Forcing my thoughts away from Jax, I think
of Kohen instead.

I can understand to a
point why he gets mad, but I’m not going to make excuses for him
anymore. He might not be fully aware of what he’s doing when he’s
upset, but he needs help. I can’t be with him if he keeps lashing
out at me. I’m finally living again and I won’t live under his
shadow.

I don’t want to give
up on him . . . not yet. Even though he has his issues, he’s a good
person. He’s the only one not keeping secrets from me. He’s the
only one I can fully trust. I have to offer him the benefit of the
doubt, and give him room to change. He and I will work. For a few
seconds, I wonder if I’m trying to convince myself or if I actually
believe it.

I believe it.

“You seem different,”
Logan says, bringing me out of my head.

“Uh . . . Thanks?”

“It’s a
compliment,” Connor chimes in.

“Okay . . .” I say
slowly.

“You’re okay,”
Logan says.

“Yes,” I say,
answering him, even though it wasn’t a question.

“I’m glad, baby
girl.”

I want to tell him
everything about the affair with Jax, but I don’t. I promise myself
that I’ll tell him truth when he comes back. That’s when I’ll
seek answers to my missing memory.

Logan yawns loudly.
Holy hell. I’m tired just looking at him. “When’s the last time
you slept?” I ask.

He waves me off.

“I’m serious,
Logan. You need to sleep more. You need to take better care of
yourself.” The fear of losing him overwhelms me and I force the
tears away. Which is a new thing for me. I never have to fight this
hard not to cry. It’s inconvenient, to say the least.

“Relax. I’ve just
been putting in more hours to make sure everything is ready for our
meeting. Once the deal is finalized, I promise I’ll sleep for a
week straight.”

“Not good enough,”
I say while I stand up to leave.

“Ad—”

“No.” I gesture at
Connor. “We’re leaving.” I point at my brother. “And you’re
going to bed.”

Connor seems like he’s
about to protest, but I glare at him, making his words die on his
lips. Logan gets up and hands my purse and jacket to me.

“Thanks.” I tap my
foot at Connor, who nurses his beer on the couch.

“Fine.” He sets
down the Corona. “You win. Let’s go.”

He gives my brother
that one-arm-hug thing guys do. “Meet you at the airport.”

“Don’t be late,”
Logan says sternly which makes him laugh. Connor is never late.

“I’ll miss you,”
I tell my brother as we embrace.

“I’m only going to
be gone for two weeks.”

I nod, words escaping
me. I don’t want him to leave. I know it’s two weeks, but it
feels like a lifetime until I’ll see him again.
Two
weeks and hopefully I’ll find out the truth.
After
giving Logan one more hug, I leave his penthouse with Connor. The
second the elevator door closes, Connor interrogates me.

“Any plans with the
hot doc while we’re gone?”

“Nope,” I say,
which isn’t a lie.

We don’t have plans.
Well, anything set. I have plans to ambush him at his apartment
tonight, but that’s not a set plan. So technically I’m not lying.

Connor nods. Then with
a tight smile he asks, “And plans with the best friend?”

“Harper?” I ask,
needing to make sure. I sense we’re not talking about my best
friend, we’re talking about his.

“Not your best
friend. But when you see that little fire cracker, tell her I said
hi.”

I stare at the closed
elevators door. I can’t tell him what’s going on with Jax. If I
do, he’ll tell Logan, and Logan won’t leave. He needs to leave. I
need to figure this out on my own.

The elevator reaches
the parking level and we walk to his car. Opening the passenger door
for me, Connor remains silent. I’m hoping that the subject is
dropped. Even thinking about it makes me cringe.

Connor waits until
we’re on the road, heading the short distance to my place. “Jax .
. . any plans with him?”

“Nope,” I say, not
wanting to go into details.

“Have you guys talked
lately?”

“Yup.”

Connor doesn’t give
up, he keeps pushing. “About . . .”

Keeping my eyes on the
road, I decide to confide in him. He isn’t a stranger. This is
Connor. If I can’t talk to him, then I don’t know who I can talk
to. Besides, he might have unexpected insight on Jax.

I look at him then turn
away. “How much do you know?” I ask, squinting to spot the stars
in the night sky. I can’t see any because of the city lights.

“A little of this . .
. A little of that.”

I force my hand to stay
in my lap even though I really, really want to smack him across the
head. Just once. “Connor,” I warn.

I can feel Connor’s
eyes on me, but I don’t face him. I can’t. If I do, I’ll lose
my resolve, and ask him about my blank past. I need to ease into
that.

“I know pretty much
everything that’s been going on lately. Even before Jax said
anything, I knew there was something go on.”

“What did he say?”

When Connor doesn’t
answer right away, I scrutinize him. His features are serious, all
traces of humor gone. I know instantly that I made the right choice
to talk to him about this. I should have done it sooner.
Maybe
things could have been different.
I squash that idea. No
matter what he says, it won’t change anything. Jax is keeping
something from me. I can’t forgive him.

“Let’s get a beer,”
he says, opening his door. It’s then that I notice we’re stopped.

When Connor comes
around to open my door, I start to tell him that it’s fine, we can
talk about this when he returns from his trip, but he interrupts me.

“We’re both going
to need a beer to handle this conversation.”

I nod, knowing he’s
right, but I still make an attempt to stay in the car. “You do
realize you have a flight to catch tomorrow?”

Connor pulls me out of
the car. “You do realize that I’m going to be sleeping the entire
flight, right?”

“Fine,” I say as I
follow him into a little pub.

We’re at one of my
favorite pubs in New York. It’s about a block away from my place so
I’ve always been able to walk a short distance to grab a beer. The
boys love it here, too. I need to bring Harper here. I make a mental
note to call her tomorrow so that we can come here and talk about
everything that happened last night.

This pub is the perfect
place for something like that. It’s crowded to the point where you
won’t be overheard, but quiet enough where you don’t have to
yell. Other than a few lamps attached to the walls near the tables,
the only real lighting in the place is the bar. Three huge lighting
fixtures hang from the ceiling above it. The glass wall behind the
bar gives the illusion that you’re the only one in the place when
you’re sitting at a table against the wall. Which is exactly why I
choose a table near the back while Connor goes to order our beers.

Connor returns with two
beers and two glasses of clear liquid in shot glasses, and shoots me
a smile when I glare at the shot glasses. He knows I’m not a shot
drinker, I’m barely a drinker at all.

“No.” I say at the
same time Connor says, “Yes.”

“No.” I say when he
places my beer and the offending shot in front of me.

Ignoring me, Connor
downs his shot and waits for me to do the same. I don’t. Which just
makes him smile even wider. “One shot for one secret,” he prompts
and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“Shots for secrets?”

He nods and pushes the
shot closer to me.

“Do I get to ask the
questions?”

He shrugs. “If you
want to, but I don’t think you’ll ask the right question.”

I eye him while coming
up with a plan. I have to tread lightly. “Fine, first shot you tell
me something you
think
I want to know, and the next one I ask the question I want to know.”

“How many secrets do
you want the answers to?”

“I only need one.”

He leaves without a
word. A few minutes later, he rejoins me with two more shots. He
lifts the first glass and clinks it to mine. I gulp the vodka down,
my insides feeling like they’re on fire the entire time. I can feel
the burn all the way down to my stomach.

I gulp down half my
beer. “Start . . . talking,” I wheeze when I can finally find my
voice again. I hate vodka.

“Where would you like
me start?”

“How about with the
secret I just earned from that shot.” Any amount of patience that I
have has disappeared.

“Jax has started
seeing—”

“What!” I roar.

“Let me finish,”
Connor says, not caring in the slightest that my world is falling
apart again.

As much as I remind
myself it doesn’t matter what that liar does, I can’t help the
sickening sensation that overwhelms me and it has nothing to do with
the taste of vodka in my mouth.

“He’s seeing
Olivia. For about a month now.”

I think I might pass
out. What happened to the troll? Jax is dating my therapist. I think
that’s illegal. Patient confidentiality and all that. Where does he
get off? Where does Liv get off? She’s married and twice his age.
I’ve told her things about us that nobody knows. Oh God.

“As a patient . . .”
Connor says, breaking through my horrid thoughts.

Spitting out my beer, I
choke out. “What?”

Connor squeezes my
hand. “He’s been getting help.”

My mind spins and it
has nothing to do with the small amount of alcohol that I’ve
consumed. Jax is seeing my therapist. He’s getting help.

“Why her?”

Surely there has to be
a million therapists in New York. Okay maybe not a million, but
pretty freaking close. Why her? I can’t believe she didn’t tell
me. Then again she can’t. Connor studies his beer bottle. Suddenly
his label fascinates him. I know whatever he’s going to say, I’m
not going to like it.

Still examining his
bottle he says so quietly I have to strain to hear, “Don’t kill
the messenger, but it’s because of you.”

“Me?” I’m
this
close to banging his head against the wall to get answers.

The words tumble out of
Connor’s mouth as if he can’t hold it in anymore. “She’s
helped you. We’ve all seen it, Addie. You weren’t here. Then you
started working with Olivia and all of a sudden, you started coming
back. We all thought we’d lost you.”

Connor looks up at me,
expecting me to disagree or jump down his throat, I’m assuming. I
give him a weak smile, which encourages him to continue.