Tragic Love (31 page)

He backs away from me and I quickly secure Mia in her car seat then turn on the car to get the air conditioner going.

“I’m sorry.” Carter runs his damp hand down my bruised arm and then leans forward, giving me a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

“I was really messed up, Carter, and I wanted to get myself together. If I were to come around you, I probably would have started to use again.” Carter picks up my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. A kiss that used to mean so much to me, but now has the opposite effect.

“I understand, sweetheart. I just wish you would have told me. Now that you’re back, do you want to come by later and catch up? I’ve missed you so much and I really want to pick up where we left off.” He winks at me and I instantly feel repulsed.

“Umm…sure, maybe later. Can I call you?” I say anything to get Mia and I away from him. Carter nods his head and leans forward, planting a kiss to my lips. I jump when I feel his rough, cracked lips against mine and taste his smoky breath.

“I can’t wait.” Then he backs away from me and I hurry as fast as I can to get in the car. As I’m backing out, I hear him shout, “Don’t let me down again, Presley. I know where the Evans guys live and I’m not afraid to come get you.” I quickly nod and speed from the parking lot.

On the drive home, I pull my cell phone out, dialing Dr. Redman’s number. It’s nearly impossible to scroll my finger across the phone because my hand is shaking uncontrollably. The phone rings and I hear my doctor’s voice on the other end. As frantically as possible, I run through my encounter with Carter, telling her I don’t have a need to use, but I’m afraid of what he might do. I tell her everything Jeremy told me about his need to possess and his temper. She tells me I need to call the authorities and tell Drake what happened. I don’t feel better after I talk to her, although I do feel some relief I told someone instead of bottling it up.

Mia falls asleep on the way home. I pull her from the car and take her up the stairs. After I lay her in bed my nerves are still frayed as I wait for Drake to come home. He’s been working later into the evening and texted me earlier, telling me he would be home around eight. I will definitely be skipping class tonight. I’m too scared to go anywhere right now. I know he won’t answer, but I call his phone anyway. I call it a million times.

I need something to settle me down. I’m starting to go slowly out of my mind and need to suppress it until I can talk to Drake. I move to the cupboard above the sink, reaching for the whiskey the guys keep stockpiled in the house. I grab the bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck and unscrew the cap. I bring my nose to the end, taking a deep breath in and cringe. I hate whiskey, but I’m desperate to be numb right now.

As I put the bottle to my lips, Jeremy comes walking through the back door and storms across the kitchen, yanking the glass bottle from my hand. “What the hell are you doing?” The tears start to stream down my cheeks and he pulls me into his arms, holding me incredibly tight. “Jesus, Presley, you’re shaking. What the hell happened?”

I keep my face planted into his chest, trying to calm myself down, but it’s no use once I try to speak. “C-c-ar-ter. He-he grabbed me when I was picking up Mia.”

Jeremy pulls me away from his chest, he’s blazing in anger. He looks down to my arm. “Did he do this?” I nod my head as more tears fall from my eyes. “Fuck!” He pushes me out of his grasp and heads for the back door.

Before I can stop myself, I’m running after him, flying down the back stairs and over to the Challenger. “Jeremy, no! Please don’t do anything!”

He turns before getting in the driver’s seat and holds me against his chest. His arms are warm and comforting, and he smells slightly of sweat and grease. “I’m not doing anything to him. I’m only going to have a little chat. I promise.”

“Please don’t go. He has a gun,” I beg. I don’t know what I would do if anyone would get hurt because of the stupid choices I’ve made in the past.

“I know.” Jeremy leans forward, kisses my forehead, gets into the car and then speeds out of the drive.

Chapter 21

Drake

My shift finally ends and I couldn’t be happier to go home. We’ve been busy so far this summer, working into the evening, which is nice, but I hate coming home when it’s dark. It’s just less time I have with my family.

I climb down from the crane, punch out and make my way over to the Chevelle. My back and forehead are drenched in sweat, and I look forward to going home to take a shower before cuddling up with my girls.

When I get in the car, I open up the center console and see I have twenty missed calls from Presley and Darcie’s numbers. Panic starts to flood my body as I slam the car in gear and race to get home. The last time I was in this big of a rush to get home is when Presley overdosed. God, please don’t let it be that. She’s been doing great all these months. The fear makes my foot push down harder on the accelerator. I don’t bother to try and call Presley. I will be home before I can steady my adrenaline fueled hand enough to dial the phone.

Minutes later, I’m flying up the driveway. I slam the car in park and run up the back steps. Reggie is in the kitchen and steps in my path, stopping me in my tracks. I try to side step him, but he quickly follows my movement. I push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“What’s going on?” I practically shout from fear.

Rock hard and built like a brick shit house, Reggie is impossible to move if he doesn’t want to. “Calm down, Drake.” His tone is hard. The resemblance of that horrible night comes back to me. He used that same tone when he told me Presley was alive. “She’s okay, but you need to calm the fuck down before you go in the living room.”

I take a couple of deep breaths and nod to Reggie that I’m okay to handle whatever it is I’ll find in the living room. I don’t know what I expected, maybe Presley limp and lifeless or covered in needle marks, but she isn’t. Darcie is sitting next to her on the couch, she looks flushed from crying and a little scared, but relatively okay. I slowly walk into the room and she instantly comes into my arms. I hold her as tight as I can and feel sudden relief when she latches on.

I can feel her racking sobs and quivering against my chest. I look to Darcie for an explanation, but she doesn’t give me one. Darcie looks everywhere except to me in an obvious attempt to avoid answering my silent question. I rub my hand up and down her back, “Hey baby. It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay,” I continue to console her. “Tell me what happened.”

Presley pulls her face away from my chest. She uses the back of her hand to wipe away stray tears. “I just got scared. After I picked Mia up from Mrs. Fields, I ran into Carter.” My blood instantly boils at the sound of his name. I haven’t seen that fucker since Presley left for rehab, but the urge to break his knee caps has not gone away. Presley begins to cry harder and I know something’s happened.

I put her at arm’s length so I can look into her eyes. She is refusing to raise her head and I know instantly something bad happened. Calming myself as much as possible, I ask, “Presley, baby, you need to tell me what happened.” She keeps her eyes locked on the floor, so I put my fingers under her chin, raising it up so she can look into my eyes. She is scared. More than scared, she is terrified. “Please tell me, baby, before I go crazy.” I’m doing what I can to keep my rage under control, but it’s struggling against me to get out.

“He…he was mad I never told him when I came home from rehab then he grabbed my arm.” She motions down to her arm and I see round, purple bruises on her skin. I raise her arm to get a look at her injury as she continues, “Then he told me to call him and kissed me goodbye.”

The color red floods my eyes instantly. Reggie is standing behind me, recognizing I’m a matter of seconds from exploding. I can’t even form a sentence, I am so angry right now. That fucker kissed her and put his hands on her. I’m going to do more than break his legs; I’m going to fucking kill him.

“GODDAMNIT!” I scream as I make my move for the back door. Reggie, once again, stands in front of me, blocking me from moving, but not this time. I slam my fist into his gut and push him out of the way. He tries to grab onto my arm, but I manage to get out of his grip, getting closer to the back door.

Jake appears from the basement. “What the hell are you sho—” I cut him off by pushing him out of my way and walk out the back door.

When I make it outside, Jeremy is standing nose to nose with that fucker, Carter. They’re in a heated discussion, both on the edge of exploding. Rage -filled and out of control, I fly down the back steps with only one purpose and that’s to beat Carter fucking Brown unconscious.

Presley

“Drake!” I feel like I’ve been sucked into an alternate universe. Everything is rapidly spinning out of control and it’s all I can do to keep myself upright. I knew Drake would flip out once I told him what happened. I’m so glad Mia is in bed so she doesn’t have to see her daddy angry.

As he tears out of the house, we all follow suit, trying to stop Drake from getting his hands on Carter. As angry as he is, Drake will have no control and he may even kill him. I don’t want that on his conscience or my own. We need to stop him.

I make it on the deck and see Carter in the driveway, standing in front of Jeremy. Drake is running down the steps and I’m one step behind him. Carter reaches for the back of his pants and I know he’s pulling for his gun, but Drake doesn’t stop. Doesn’t he see his gun?

“DRAKE! GUN!” I have to stop this! I run toward the gun, praying I won’t be too late to stop Carter from hurting anyone.

Drake

As I make it down the last steps, I squeeze my fists, readying them for the impact to Carter’s face. I can hear Presley screaming behind me, but I don’t bother to turn to her. I keep myself moving forward when Carter reaches behind his back. Fuck! His gun!

I stop several feet in front of him and the next thing I hear is a loud pop and I drop to the ground. Screaming, so much screaming. I think I’m shot. I look down and see blood covering the middle of my shirt, but I feel no pain.

When I begin to focus on what just happened, I look down and see Presley crumpled at Carter’s feet. She is lying on her side, crumpled into a ball and there is blood pooling around her body. Oh my God.

“NO! Presley!” I crawl over to her and roll Presley onto her back to see a large portion of her shirt soaked in blood. He fucking shot her! I rip the shirt off my back and press the fabric into her wound. “Call an ambulance!” I scream.

Presley coughs and I release a little sigh of relief, knowing she’s still with me. “Hang on, baby. The ambulance is coming. Just stay with me.” Presley coughs again and her eyes start to flutter closed. I tap her cheek and shout louder. “Presley! Don’t die on me! Please, hang on. They’re on their way. Just stay with me!”

Blood is soaking through my shirt and I can feel it on my legs as it absorbs through my jeans. She coughs again and looks over at me. Peace and tranquility mask across her face. “Read your letter to me.” Her voice is quiet and scratchy. I’ve been carrying around the letter Dr. Garner asked me to write for the last several months, waiting for the right time to have her read it. “Please, Drake. I just want to hear your voice.” She coughs again and her eyes start to close.

I look up and see Darcie across from me, holding Presley’s hand with tears rolling down her cheeks. Jeremy is walking up the driveway like a caged animal, panting and out of breath. Reggie and Jake meet him, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.

I turn my focus back to Presley and kiss her lips. They taste like blood and cherries. I take one of my hands from the blood soaked shirt and pull the folded piece of paper from my pocket while being careful to keep the other hand pressing into her wound. She just smiles and stares at me as I shake it open with my free hand, putting bloody fingerprints on the white paper. Then I begin to read.

Dear Presley,

Today I sit and write this letter not knowing what the future will hold for us. A day ago, I left you in Memphis still uncertain of our future as a couple, but as I write these words the only emotion I can feel and have ever felt is love.

I love you, Presley. I’m not angry or sad or disappointed. After everything that’s happened to us, the only thing I can feel is love. You are my love, my life. I’ve often said to myself you’re the very reason I breathe, every gasp of air that fills my lungs is put there because of you. Nothing reassured this more than the night I found you in the bathroom. When you lost your breath, I lost mine. I can’t live without you. I need you to breathe. I need your love to pump the blood through my heart, fill my lungs with air and keep me putting one foot in front of the other.

Without you, I am nothing. Without you, I will die. So please, baby, when you think of me, think of us, think of love. Think of life.

I love you. I love the very deepest part of you, the part no one has ever had the privilege of seeing. I love every smile you spread across your face, every brush of your lips and every sparkle in your eyes.

Love. It’s a powerful emotion and can bring the strongest person to their knees, completely overtaken by it. The moment I met you, I collapsed at your feet, willing to do everything and be anything you’ve ever wanted.

I beg of you to see your worth. I beg you to live. Choose to live and choose to love. It won’t only be you that will survive, it will be us.

When I finished reading, Presley’s eyes open slightly and she smiles. The sounds of the sirens are getting closer, and I lean in to kiss her lips. “Hang on, baby. They’re almost here.”

She hasn’t stopped smiling since I came to her side. Her face is calm and at peace, doesn’t appear to be in pain at all. I simply need her to hang on a little bit longer. I need her to be with me. I can’t live in this world without her. Mia needs a mother; she needs Presley as her mother. Presley’s hand rises to my face and she holds my cheek in her palm. I let go of the tears, allowing them to soak my face. The pad of her thumb lightly sweeps back and forth across my cheek. The sickening feeling in my head is telling me this is her final good bye, but my hope—my heart—refuses to let her go. Her skin is warm and stained with blood. I lean down and kiss her lips again.