Unbroken (23 page)

“Why not?” He says coolly, like it’s all just a game to him. “Fuck, Jules, I never promised you anything. I figured, this was just a one-time thing, you know?” Emerson gives me a leering smirk. “One more fuck for old time’s sake.”

I crumble with a sickening sense of déjà vu. “You don’t mean that,” I shake my head, desperate. “I don’t know why you’re saying it, but it’s not true!”

“Sure it is.” Emerson meets my gaze head-on: empty and dark-eyed, like a stranger. He strolls closer, a grim smile on his lips. “You know, it was fun, watching you put up a fight, trying to be a good little girl. I bet Garrett a hundred bucks I could get you out of those panties in a month,” he adds.

I gasp. “That’s a lie!” I protest wildly. He keeps approaching me, and I back until I hit up against the truck.

Emerson looms closer, reaching out to trace a blazing path along my collarbone. “Sorry, sweetheart. I figured you’d give me a run for my money, but you were so hot for me, it didn’t even take that long.”

“Stop it,” I sob, pushing his hands away. I can’t believe what he’s saying, or the cruel smirk in his smile. This isn’t my Emerson, it can’t be!

“What? You don’t want me anymore?” Emerson’s voice is twisted and teasing. “That’s not what you said last night.” His voice drops, and he leans in closer, breath hot against my ear. “You were moaning my name,” he murmurs. “Begging me to fuck you harder. Don’t you remember?”

I choke back a sob as he reaches to caress my shoulder. I shudder at his touch, feeling tears flow wet down my cheeks even as my body tightens with desire. I hate myself for the shivers sparking through my body, how my breath quickens just to feel his body close, and my nipples harden against his chest.

“See?” Emerson whispers triumphantly, and I realize with a flush of shame he can feel my desire too. He pulls back, looking down at me with a leer, “Hell, I’ve got some time if you want to go another round.” he smirks, “If you ask real nice, I might even tie you down and let you suck me—“

“Stop it!” I scream, shoving him away. I’m sobbing uncontrollably now, drowning in pain and humiliation. It all makes sense to me now, such terrible sense. That first night we met, in the parking lot at Jimmy’s, he taunted me, just like this.

It was his plan all along, I realize, with sickening dread. I was only ever a game to him, a twisted fuck-you to our former love.

He never cared, not for one moment.

It was all a lie.

“Aww, c’mon,” Emerson taunts, reaching for me again. “You know you want me.” He takes hold of my hoodie zipper, and starts to pull it open, but something in me finally snaps.

“Don’t touch me!” I scream, shoving him away again. I reel back, out of the circle of his embrace—and all his treacherous lies. “Don’t you dare touch me again!”

There’s the sound of a door slamming open, and then Daniel comes hurtling out of the house. I can barely see through my anguished tears as he plants himself between me and Emerson, one hand on my arm. “You need to get the hell out of here,” he orders Emerson with a growl.

“Just go!” I sob, feeling utterly broken. “Please, go!”

I wait, with some small, wretched part of me hoping that shutter in his eyes will crack, and he’ll take me in his arms again, and tell me this is all some terrible mistake. But Emerson just backs away. “My pleasure.” he spits, and walks away to his truck. The engine starts, and then he backs out, tires screeching as they skid on the dirt road.

He’s gone. He’s left me again.

Stupid fucking girl.

I watch the dust fly on the dirt road in the wake of his truck and gasp for air. It takes everything I have not to sink to the ground right there in the front yard.

“Juliet,” Daniel holds me up. “Look at me, what did he say?”

I shake my head, pulling away. “You too. I need you to go.”

“I’m not leaving you like this!” Daniel protests.

I take a deep breath, and force a smile on my face. “I’m fine.” I lie to him, through a clenched jaw. “I want to be alone.”

“Juliet…” Daniel protests. I stand firm. I have one last reserve of self-control, but it’s fading fast. I just need him to be gone now, before the grief takes me over completely.

“Please, you’ve done more than enough.” I insist, pushing him towards the cab of the van. “Take the U-Haul, and get on the road. I’ll finish up here, and follow you to the city in a little while.”

He wavers by the driver’s side door, and he doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s OK,” I say again, even though everything in my body is screaming a different story. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.” I tell him, “I’m coming home, I promise. I just need a moment alone, to say goodbye.”

Slowly, Daniel nods. “I don’t like this,” he warns me, climbing up behind the wheel.

“I know, but you’re going to do it anyway.” I reach up on my tip-toes, and drop a small kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

I close the door behind him. “Call me when you get on the road,” Daniel warns me, through the open window. “And don’t leave it too late. The storm will be here soon.”

I nod. The winds have picked up, and the sky is completely overcast with dark grey clouds. Down by the beach, the water foams at the shore. “I’ll call. See you in the city.”

He backs slowly out of the drive, and then is gone. I’m alone.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I feel the tell-tale hot prickle of panic burning across my skin, and my breath comes faster in shallow gasps. I shake, desperate to keep it together, but I can’t hold it back. It’s true. It’s all so true. It took everything I have to pull myself back together after Emerson’s last betrayal. Now, all these years later, I thought I was so much stronger, but here I am, desperately crying for him all over again.

He never really loved you.

The panic rises. I race across the lawn and fumble with the door. My hands are shaking, and it takes me a couple of tries until I finally get the door open and stumble into the house. I hurtle blindly through to the kitchen, sweeping at the counters and ripping at my belongings until I find my purse and the tiny vial of pills.

One, two, three are left.

I shake them all into my palm and slip them under my tongue.

I go to the sink and turn on the faucet, gulping the cold water straight from the tap. Then I slide to the floor with my back against the cabinet and clench my eyes shut, waiting for the nightmare to end.

“Please, let it be over,” I whisper to myself, rocking back and forth. “Please let it be just a dream.”

I can see it in my mind: how this all was supposed to go. I wake up back in the cabin this morning, with Emerson wrapped around me. He whispers sweet things in my ear, and tells me how much he loves me. How he’s sorry for last time, and will never make the mistake and hurt me, ever again. How we’re going to be happy together, always. And then he pulls me into a long kiss, his hands sliding lower down my body until we’re gasping and moaning all over again.

Together. Happy. Safe.

But it’s not real.

I stay there crying on the kitchen floor until my head aches and my throat is raw. I weep for the teenager who had her heart broken, and the stupid girl I am now, hurtling into that same disaster zone as if it would work out any different. I weep for all the hopes and dreams I had last night, nestled safe in Emerson’s arms, and the cruel slap of reality now in the harsh light of day. I weep for the twisted cruelty in his gaze, as he teased and touched me, and how my body flared to life under his fingertips all the same.

I weep because I love him, I’ve always loved him, but that’s never enough. I weep until I’ve got nothing left in me, until I’m numb and emptied out with grief, and I can feel the slow drag of chemical buzz snaking through my veins.

I take a shaky lungful of breath, and open my eyes to find an empty house, silent and still. My heart-rate is slowing now, and that thick sense of calm is sweeping through me, fuzzy and detached. It’s a false equilibrium, I know that, but for the first time, I’m glad of. Anything to stop the darkness rearing up and dragging me under completely. Anything to stop me falling apart again.

There’s nothing left here for me now.

I pull myself to my feet, and find my purse and jacket. I stuff the last of my belongings in a grocery sack, and look around the house. Soon, all this will be rubble.

I take a long moment on the front porch, just breathing in the scent of rosemary and sea air. Then I lock the door behind me, load up the car, and drive out of Cedar Cove for the last time. Past the harbor, and Jimmy’s Tavern, past the worn-down tourist stores on Main Street, past the public beach, now deserted in the howling wind. Rain starts to spatter at my windscreen, and I feel relief I’m on the road early enough to avoid the worst of the storm. It’ll take me a few hours to make it back to Charlotte, but at least I’ll be more sheltered inland, away from the ocean.

I’m driving over the bridge out of town when my cell starts to ring. Lacey.

“Hey babe,” I answer, putting the handset up to my ear, “What’s up?”

“Daniel called.” Lacey says, her voice thick with worry. “He told me…”

“That it was all just a sick game to Emerson?” I finish for her. “Yeah, I was there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lacey tells me, “I know how much he meant to you.”

“My mistake, huh?” I say, hollow. I’m wrung out, all the turmoil of emotion receded like the tide, leaving nothing but blankness in its place. An empty shore. I sigh. “Guess I should have listened to you.”

“Babe…” Lacey sighs. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t to know he was some kind of fucking twisted asshole—“

“Don’t.” I cut her off.

“You’re defending him?” Lacey’s voice rises in outrage.

“No. I’m not, I just… I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’m on the road now,” I add, “I’ll be home tonight.”

“And then we’ll go get falling down drunk.” Lacey declares. “And eat our weight in ice-cream. No, scratch that, this calls for the serious shit. Gelato!”

“Sounds good to me.” I manage a faint laugh. Then I catch sight of a petite figure ahead of me on the highway, heading towards me, in the direction of Cedar Cove. The girl is huddling and braced against the winds, wearing a thin hoodie pulled up over her head, and a short skirt with high-heeled boots, like she wasn’t planning to be out walking. As I drive past, I catch a glimpse of her face: it’s Emerson’s sister, Brit.

“Fuck,” I swear, speeding past her.

“What is it?” Lacey demands, still on the other end of the line.

“Nothing, it’s raining pretty hard. I’ll call you back later, OK?”

“OK, Love you.”

I hang up, and then carefully pull a wide U-turn on the wet highway. I drive back the way I’ve just come, slowing and rolling my window down as I approach her.

“Hey, are you OK?” I call. “You need a ride?”

Brit turns, her kohl-rimmed eyes smudged and glaring. “Nope!” She yells back, and keeps walking.

I cruise along beside her at a snail’s pace. “Come on, you’ll catch your death out here,” I argue. “Can’t you see, a storm’s about to hit?”

“Don’t care!” Brit calls back.

This is ridiculous.

“You seriously hate me so much you’re willing to get pneumonia, just to prove a point?” I demand. “Because that’s some screwed-up logic you’ve got there.”

“I don’t need your help.” Brit spits back.

“Uh, look around,” I point out. “There’s nobody else for miles, so I’m what you’ve got.” I sigh. I want to turn around, and head out of this godforsaken town as fast as the Camaro will take me, but she looks so small and pale out here on the empty highway, I can’t bear to leave her. “Come on, Brit. You can glare at me in here, you know.”

A fresh gust of wind blows in from the ocean, and Brit shudders. Her pale skin looks scarily white, and she’s clearly freezing to death out there. “That’s it,” I decide, putting on the brakes so the car comes to a stop. “Enough messing around. Just get in the goddamn car!”

Finally Brit gives in. She reaches for the passenger door and yanks it open, sliding into the car and slamming it shut behind her.

Up close, I can see she’s shivering so hard her whole body shakes.

“Jesus, are you crazy?” I put the heater on full, and reach around to the backseat to find a thick college sweater. I pass it to her, worried. “What were you doing out there?”

“Having a spa day, what do you think?” Brit gives me a look as she tugs the sweater over her head.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

I sigh, and put the car back in drive—this time, heading back across the bridge into town. The clouds get darker, and the spatters of rain turn into a thundering downpour against the windscreen. The streets are all empty now, some of the windows on the stores barricaded shut with wooden planks.

“See?” I tell her, squinting to see through the wall of water. “You would have been stuck out in the middle of this.”

“Gee, thanks.” Brit drawls, still bitterly sarcastic. “Next time my jerk-off ex-boyfriend decides to throw me out, I’ll have him do it in tanning weather.”

I look over. “Are you OK?” I ask, concerned. “Did he hurt you?”