Fight with Me - Page 76/86

“I will not forget about you.” His eyes are feral, his face taut in pain, and it hurts to look at him. Everything just hurts. I close my eyes and feel a tear escape down my cheek. “Baby, don’t cry.”

Nate leans down and kisses me softly, and I let him, knowing that this is our last. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me, putting everything into this kiss. I run my hands through his hair, and finally pull away, brushing my fingertips down his face, memorizing everything about him.

“You and I were probably never meant to be,” I whisper, staring into his beautiful gray eyes, “but I loved every single second that I spent with you.”

I pull out of his arms as he swallows hard and I cup his palm in mine, laying the silver heart he gave me at the beach in his hand. I grab my bags and walk out the door, down the stairs and out to my car.

“Julianne, wait.”

“Just lock up when you leave, Nate.”

“Goddamn it, wait!”

I push my bags into the backseat of my car and open the driver’s side, and suddenly Nate is next to me. “Look at me.”

I raise my tear-filled eyes to his and swallow. His gaze lingers over my face, his eyes are sad, and he starts to say something, but stops himself. Finally, he kisses my forehead and whispers, “I love you.”

I don’t respond as I get behind the wheel and pull away.

***

Will opens his front door and pulls me into his arms, hugging me close. All of my brothers are tall and muscular; we come from the same extraordinary gene pool, after all. Will has dark blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, and is only two years older than me. He and I have always been very close.

I take a deep breath and let him hold me in his doorway, my cheek nestled in his soft Seahawks t-shirt, and the enormity of this afternoon’s events wash over me. I feel the tears, and honest-to-God temper tantrum start to surface, so I step back and murmur, “bedroom.”

“This way,” he leads me through his beautiful Seattle home, but I don’t really pay attention to the rooms he guides me through. I follow him upstairs and he opens a door. “This is your room, kiddo, for as long as you need it. I’m just across the hall in case you need me.”

I nod and step into the beautiful room. The bed has been freshly made. “I forgot to get my bags.”

“I’ll get them.”

“I think I’m going to cry, Will.”

“Do you want me to stay or go?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head and sit on the edge of the bed. God, I wish I could get that numb feeling back. It was so much better than this piercing pain that’s running through me.

“I’ll go get your bags and give you a minute, and then I’ll be back, okay?”

I nod and look blindly at my brother. He looks concerned and a little mad. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, kid, I’m worried. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been through this.” I touch my fingers to my lips and remember kissing Nate goodbye fifteen minutes ago, and the tears start to fall. I hang my head in my hands and give into crushing grief. I start to rock back and forth, sobs wracking my body. I’ve never cried this hard. I’ve never been this devastated.

I hear my own voice, keening and mumbling. I’m a fucking mess, and I can’t stop it. My body has taken over, exorcising the hurt through tears and snot and spit.

Will comes back into the room wheeling my bags behind him. He pulls some tissues out of the box by the bed and hands me a wad to clean up the snotty mess on my face, and stands before me with his hands on his hips. “Are you able to talk?”

I shake my head no.

“Do you want me to kill him?” he asks, his voice low.

I shake my head no again, then think twice about it and shrug. A smile tugs at the corner of Will’s lips.

“What do you need me to do, Jules?” God, I love this man. I’m so glad I came here.

“Just don’t tell anyone but the family that I’m here. If Nate calls, you haven’t seen me.”

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over this chest. “He really fucked up.”

“Yeah he did.”

“Another woman?”

“No.” That brings more tears, and I break down again.

“Okay, we won’t talk about it tonight.”

“Am I ruining any plans for you?” I ask through my tears.

“No, but you know I’d change any plans I have for you, kid.”

I just nod, and he shuffles from bare foot to foot and finally walks around to the other side of the bed, climbs on, sits against the headboard, and says, “Come here.”

He pulls me into his lap and I curl into a ball and cry. Long, loud and messy sobs. Will keeps handing me tissues, rubs my back soothingly and holds me, letting me cry.

“Isn’t it yucky holding your sister like this?” I ask.

“Not when you’re this sick.” He responds and he’s right.

I’m sick.

Sick with fear, anger, sadness, betrayal and longing.

***

“Wake up, Jules.”

Someone is jostling my shoulder and squeezing my head with a vice. I try to open my eyes, but the light is too bright.

“Go away,” I croak.

“It’s almost noon.”

I moan and turn onto my back. My body is sore from stress and grief. My eyes are swollen from crying and my head is killing me.