J – Goodnight. You look pretty in that nightgown tonight.
I laugh and shake my head, putting my phone down.
It’s been so long since I’ve laughed.
It feels nicer than I’m willing to admit.
CHAPTER 7
THEN – MADDIE
I stare at York.
Just stare at him.
He’s asleep on the couch, his arm flopping down beside him, still fully clothed, snoring. I take a shaky step closer, and kneel down, inspecting the arm that’s exposed. I could swear there is light bruising near his veins in the elbow region. I lean in closer, running a soft fingertip over the skin that looks just ... wrong.
Why would he have bruising there? Has he had a recent blood test? I know, deep down in my heart, that’s not the case. I know it because I’d know if he went to a doctor, and I know the only other thing that could cause those kinds of markings is something I’m not even close to wanting to acknowledge.
Mood swings.
Sleeping.
Not eating.
Highs and lows.
York has been off for weeks. My kind, sweet man is disappearing before my eyes, and in his place, a very angry, restless, tired person is presenting himself. I take a step back, heart racing, palms sweating, body on high alert. What am I supposed to do now? What about Rae? Do I approach him? Do I hope he just stops?
Maybe I’m wrong.
I’m not. I know I’m not.
I move into the kitchen and stand there, back pressed against the counter, arms crossed over my chest, feeling uneasy. I don’t know how to approach this. Is he addicted? Or is he just using something to stay awake during his shifts at night? If he is addicted, how do I get him to stop?
My head spins as I think of all the scenarios.
I love him. I have to help him. Whatever reason he turned to drugs, he needs me to guide him through. We can get through this, right? We can get through anything together. Can’t we?
A groan has my eyes darting to the couch. York is sitting up, running a hand through his messy hair. His eyes land on me, and they’re bloodshot, slightly sunken, and I could swear he’s lost weight. How did I not notice that? Have I been missing what’s right in front of me, or have I just ignored it because I was too scared to face the facts that this man might actually be doing the one thing I fear?
“Hey,” he mumbles sleepily, getting to his feet.
I just stare at him. How do I approach this? What if he gets really angry?
“Hi,” I say softly, walking over to him and placing my hands on his sides, staring up into eyes that I love so dearly. “How are you?”
He stares down at me, the emotion in his face seemingly non-existent. I used to be able to look into his eyes and see so much love. Now, I swear, I can’t see anything. He’s staring down at me, his hands are on my arms, but he’s not looking at me the way he’s always looked at me. His look is vacant. So. So. Vacant.
“I’m fine, you?” he says, as if nothing is wrong.
“You seem ... off. Are you not feeling well? You don’t look well.”
He lets me go and steps back. “I’m fine, Mad. Perfectly fine.”
He’s lying. He knows he’s lying. Because he looks to his left quickly and turns his back to me, leaning down to pick up his phone.
“Are you sure?” I push, just a little bit.
He straightens and looks over at me. “I’m tired. I’m not in the mood for your weird questioning. If you have something to say, come out and say it, otherwise let me go to sleep.”
I hesitate, then I say softly, “You just don’t seem yourself. I was worried that’s all.”
Say what you need to say, Maddie. Just say it.
But for some reason, something inside me is holding me back from saying what I want to say. What I need to say. Is it fear? Uneasiness? I’m not sure, but I just can’t get the words to leave my lips. I’m afraid of how he’ll react.
“I’m fine, honestly. I’m going to bed. I have another big night tonight.”
“You’ve been working extra shifts, is everything okay at work?” I try to ask casually.
“There you go with the fucking questions again,” he snaps.
I flinch and step backwards. “I was just asking about work.”
“Well, don’t, I spend all my fucking time there. When I’m home, I just want to be home. I don’t want to be thinking of that fucking place.”
Right.
Of course.
“I’m sorry,” I say, putting my hands up. “I’ll let you get some sleep. Maybe we can do something on the weekend, on your day off? I miss you.”
His eyes flare just a little. “I’m working all weekend.”
He never works all weekend.
“Oh,” I murmur. “Okay then, maybe next time.”
He studies me, then steps forward, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Sorry, baby. I promise I’ll take you out soon. Love you, okay?”
Those words should comfort me, but they just don’t. They really just don’t.
“Yeah, of course, don’t worry about it. I love you, too.”
“See you when I wake up.”
He disappears down the hall, and I watch him go.
My stomach sinks again.
What am I going to do?
~*~*~*~
The bedroom door bursts open, and I jerk upright in bed, trying to focus my eyes. It’s just past three in the morning and whoever just barged into my room didn’t do it quietly. My heart pounds as I reach for the lamp, flicking it on with trembling fingers. York stands in the doorway, trying to kick off his shoes, swaying a little as he does.
Why is he home this early? He usually works until at least five.
“Hey,” I say, and he jerks his head up, stumbling backwards, back slamming into the door.
“Fuck, Maddie, you didn’t need to scare the shit out of me.”
Didn’t he see the lamp flick on?
“You’re home early.”
He narrows his eyes. “You make that sound like it’s a fucking problem.”
His fingers are twitching, even though he’s standing perfectly still. They’re just there, twitching.
“Is everything okay?”
“Here we fucking go again,” he snaps, angrily trying to kick his shoe off.
“York ...”
“Fuck,” he bellows at the shoe, pulling his leg back and launching it forward so hard the shoe goes flying off. I have to duck so it doesn’t collide with my head.
It hits the headboard, and for a second, I stay with my head down, arms over it, wondering what the hell just happened. After a moment, I lift my head and see he hasn’t even noticed he nearly took me out with his shoe, but instead is angrily kicking off the second one.
“Stupid mother fucking cunt of a shoe.”
I blink.
What the hell?
“York, you nearly hit me with that shoe.”
“It was a fucking accident,” he snaps.
My hands shake, and I tuck them into my lap. “I’m worried about you.”
He looks up at me, his eyes zoning in sharp and angry. “Well, don’t be worried about me. Be worried about the fact that I’m getting sick and fucking tired of you asking if I’m fucking okay all the time.”
“Why are you swearing so much?”
He makes a low, angry, growling sound in his throat, and mutters, “Fucking women.”
Who is this man? Seriously. Who the hell is he?
“York,” I try again, even though I feel incredibly uneasy. “Please don’t say things like that to me.”
He ignores me, walking to the side of the bed and sliding in. I’m not really used to him sleeping with me these days, because I’m always awake before he gets home. I’ve missed him, I’ve missed cuddling him, making love to him, kissing him and being with him. I’ve really just missed him.
“It’s nice having you back,” I try, figuring it’s best not to upset him further. Maybe he’s just really t
ired.
I can’t imagine how hard it would be working night shift all the time.
“I’m tired. Unless we’re going to fuck, can you zip it?”
I blink.
It takes me a long moment to process what he just said.
Never, in the entire three years we’ve been together, has he ever spoken to me like that. So many thoughts and words swirl around in my head, but honestly, none of them seem to want to move to my lips to escape. I’m numb. Completely shocked. I stare at the man lying beside me, hands up behind his head, eyes closed.
Acting like he didn’t say a single thing wrong.
It didn’t bother him at all.
Not even a little bit.
I lie back, shaky, confused, not really sure how to proceed. It takes me a solid half an hour to calm my racing heart. By that time, York is snoring beside me. I turn and stare at him, looking at all the lines and features of his face, memorizing the man I love so dearly.
And I do.
I do love him.
So I know I have to find a way to figure this out once and for all.
Otherwise, I might lose him.
CHAPTER 8
NOW – BAYLEE
The knocking at my door has me narrowing my eyes. Who would be here so early? I glance at the clock on the counter. It’s just after seven in the morning, and it’s been a long, long, long night. Rae has finally stopped throwing up and has gone to bed. Rubbing my eyes, I walk over to the door and open it to see Jack standing there, two coffee cups in his hands.
I blink.
“Hey,” he says, eyes dropping to my oversized shirt that I’m only wearing panties beneath.
“You’re at my house,” I say, my voice sleepy. “At seven in the morning. With coffee.”
He thrusts a coffee at me. “I told you, my stalking skills are incredible. I bet I even got your coffee right.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and take a sip. White. Sweet. Just how I like it.
“I’m concerned for you,” I respond. “But thank you.”
“Are you going to invite me in? I had to drag my ass out of bed early to get you that, I should at least be able to come and sit at your counter and snoop through your things, maybe get a free pair of panties for my collection.”
I snort. “I seriously wonder about you. And you can come in, but be warned, there was a very sick pregnant girl throwing her shit up everywhere last night.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me. Open wide, let me check out this pad.”
Rolling my eyes, I push the door open and he steps in. He smells amazing, and it hasn’t escaped my notice that his hair is still damp from an obvious recent shower. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a grey tee. He looks casual, yet incredibly hot.
“So,” he says, stopping just inside my door. “This your place?”
“No, it’s the neighbor’s place, I just crashed it so you couldn’t find out where I really lived,” I respond sarcastically.
He laughs and turns to look at me. “I mean, do you own it?”
“No,” I scoff. “Gross.”
His brows go up. “It’s not so bad.”
Now my brows go up. “I knew it, I knew it all along. You’re blind, aren’t you?”
He grins at me. “Come on, a coat of paint, a few rugs and it would be good as new.”
I scrunch up my nose.
“Okay, a match would be a better choice.”
My lips twitch.
“Nearly a smile, I’m onto something here.”
I walk past him, hiding my smile, and place my coffee cup on the kitchen counter. “So, considering I actually know nothing about you, it’s somewhat creepy that you’re here and we’re just casually chatting over coffee at seven in the morning.”
He comes up beside me. “Everyone has to get to know people somehow. This is how people bond. If you don’t believe me, Google it.”
I snort. “I could be anyone. Hell, I could be a man for all you know.”
His brows go up. “Are you a male? Because you’re pretty enough that I might just be interested if you are.”
I flush at his compliment and then roll my eyes at his joke.
He grins. “You just blushed.”
I grunt and sip my coffee. “I did not. That was my cheeks getting red because I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Who is he?”
We both turn at the voice, and see Rae standing at the entrance into the living room, staring at Jack. She doesn’t say hello or introduce herself, she just comes in with demands. Always with the demands. I’m not in the mood for her attitude this morning, especially with a friend around.
“He’s a friend, Rae,” I say, staring at the girl who looks like she needs to go back to bed and sleep for a week. “Jack, this is my, ah, sister, Rae. Rae, this is Jack.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jack says, staring at her.
I’m sure he notices how young she is. How withdrawn. How broken. Her spirit, the spirit of the girl I used to adore, has long been broken and crushed into nothing. Rae is no more. Instead, what stands before me is the shell of a girl who used to have so much heart.
“I’m hungry,” Rae says, ignoring Jack. “Have you made anything for breakfast?”
Jack looks to me, his face carefully blank, but I know what he’s thinking. Everyone who meets Rae thinks it. Who is this bratty girl and where the hell did she learn to be so ungrateful? I avoid his eyes as I stare at Rae, and carefully say, “No, I haven’t. Do you want some toast?”
I see Jack shake his head, just slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s hardly in the position to say anything. Rae glances at him, narrows her eyes, then looks back at me again. “I don’t want toast.”
“Toast is all you should be putting in your belly after being sick all night.”
She glares at me. “I said I didn’t want toast, so no, I want eggs.”
“Eggs aren’t a good idea,” I try to say through gritted teeth.
She shakes her head, throwing her hands up. “Whatever, Baylee. I’m over you. You’re supposed to be helping me. God, you’re almost no better than—”
“Enough,” I snap, and her eyes get wide. I haven’t raised my voice even once to Rae since she’s been with me, but she’s not going to start mentioning York in front of a random stranger. No.
Nobody ever needs to know about that man.
“Pardon me?” she says, crossing her arms.
“Can you just leave us be?” I say, trying to stay calm. “I have a friend over, now is not the time.”
She looks to Jack again. “Doesn’t seem like the type you’d go for. He’s almost exactly the same, isn’t he?”
I flinch. “Rae, leave.”
She huffs and turns, storming off down the hall.
“Don’t say anything,” I say to Jack as he looks at me.
“Wasn’t planning on saying anything, but you really shouldn’t let people treat you like that, Baylee.”
I glance at him, then keep drinking my coffee. “She had a hard life.”
“That’s never an excuse.”
No, he’s probably right about that.
But I’m not going to argue about it. Time for a change of subject.
“So, have you got siblings?”
Jack gets the point, and doesn’t push further. He leans a hip against the counter and says, “An older brother, Diesel.”
“Diesel,” I say, loving the name. “That’s a cool name.”
“Yeah,” he grins. “And I got lumped with Jack. So ordinary.”
“A name doesn’t define you, take it from me.”
“Are you saying I’m not ordinary then?” he asks, wiggling his brows.
I shift and smother a grin. “Only you could take a compliment out of that.”
He winks at me. “So, I wanted to ask if you want to come sailing.”
I stare at him. “Pardon me?”
“Sailing.”
“No, I heard you, but ... why?”
He chuckles. “Gosh, you really aren’t good at this, are you?”
“What?”
“Having friends.”
I roll my eyes, but he’s right. Outside of Shania, I’m not used to having friends anymore. After York, my life turned into a bitter mess. I can’t remember what it feels like to have fun.
“Why are you going sailing?” I ask.
“My friends from the club and I do it once a year; we drive to the coast and hire a sail boat. It’s really fun, we stay a couple of nights at a house my parents own, then head back.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well ... I don’t know. I have Rae and ...”
“Think about it,” he says, smiling at me. “No pressure.”
I smile back; it’s weak and small, but it’s a smile. “Thank you.”
“I have to go,” he says. “I’ll talk to you later, though. Think about the offer. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be outside your window at exactly nine PM tonight, I’d appreciate a wave.”
I laugh, it’s small, ragged and soft, but it’s a laugh.
He smiles, big and all-American boy next door. He looks gorgeous. He walks over and leans down. “One day that smile is going to touch your eyes, and fuck, it’s going to be the most beautiful thing the world has ever seen.”
Then he turns and walks out.
My heart stirs.
It has hidden itself for so long, but finally it is stirring from its cave.
Could Jack be the one that helps me trust again?
Or will he be the one who forces my heart to hide away for its final time?
I don’t know.
And it scares me.
~*~*~*~
I step out of the restaurant. It’s past midnight, and I’m exhausted. My feet ache from the long day at work. We had a function tonight, so I worked longer than I usually would. I’m not complaining, the money will be amazing and will help with some of the bills that have been piling up lately. God knows, with Rae only six weeks from giving birth, we’re going to need the extra cash.
“Hello there, pretty lady.”
I look up and see Jack standing, leaning against a bike. For a second, I just stare at him, confused. It’s past midnight, so why is he here? My eyes linger on him, for a second too long, because God he looks amazing. Black jeans, tight black tee, and a leather jacket casually resting on his shoulders. His hair is messy, a few strands falling over his forehead.