Chapter 184

“Joey’s … An old friend from Queens.” I know how stupid his reaction to the bear was the first time he
‘met’ him, whether it was in jest or not, it highlighted Jake has a severe jealous side and would
probably miss the name of the bear. I hope it makes him suffer in the way he’s making me suffer right
now. I hang up just as he explodes. Silencing the onslaught of Carrero abuse and craziness. I stand
trying to calm the panic surging through me, my body shaking violently and my nerves trembling. Weak
and hysterical, my heart pounding through my chest. I know everything is falling apart around me. My
world is crumbling.

I jump as my phone rings and his number flashes across my screen, but I red button him in defiance.
He wanted to be an asshole and now he suddenly wants to talk. I reject button him a second time when
it rings again.

ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!!!! The text beeps on almost as soon as I lay it face down on the
bed, inner fear sweeping over me, so my body turns cold and my limbs weaken.

Jake’s angry, angry. Maybe I pushed things too far?

My anger almost drops out of me with insane speed to be replaced with immediate remorse. I should
know better than to rile the jealousy card with Jake, it makes him irrational and aggressive, even with
me. He sees red and can’t seem to control it. He admitted to me he’s never had any feelings like that in
his past, all so new to him and overpowering and I’ve just handed him a lit grenade when he’s drunk
and already pissed. I know him. I know his need to lash out and hurt things, hurt people when
consumed like this. As a teen he beat his way through a drunken fueled haze many a time and made
the headlines. Last thing he needs now is another front-page mess because his girlfriend tipped him
over the edge.

What have I done to him? I’m so stupid! So, fucking stupid! I’m supposed to make him a better man,
want to be a better man.



I pick up the phone, swaying with indecisiveness and try to call him, my hands shaking violently. Sick
with nerves. I get his voicemail and my stomach drops. I try again and again, five times in twenty
minutes but I get his voicemail every time and it suddenly dawns on me he’s switched his cell off.

He’s beyond raging with me; he’s gone off the charts angry. I text him quickly, hoping to god he
switches it on and sees it before he does something beyond stupid or calls me back.

Jake, I’m sorry, I was angry, please don’t go mad … Joey is the bear you won for me, remember? I’m in
my old apartment xxx I love you. I’m sorry.

I send it with the overwhelming feeling of fear tightening my stomach. Choking on tears and regret.

Maybe I should go back to the apartment tonight and be there for him coming home; fix this. Fix my
stupidity. I should know better than to ever play that card with him, it’s the guaranteed way to make him
lash out and do something stupid like get in a bar brawl or come home and smash another wall.

That much testosterone fueled by booze and jealousy is a lethal combination and I just lit the fuse. If
he’d done the same to me, I would have flipped the psycho switch and no telling what I would have
done. I feel so stupid.

I sit shaking for what seems like an eternity before I finally get enough courage to gather my things and
call for a cab, it’s going to be one expensive ride home and the most agonizing journey, but I need to
be there when Jake finally comes home. I need to show him that the only bed I was climbing into was
his. I pick up my phone and send one last text.

Please come home, Jake … I’m getting a cab back to Manhattan. I’m sorry xxx I need to see you. I
miss you.

I take a deep, steadying breath and swallow down the urge to cry. Body shaking violently, and all
resolve gone. Pulling myself together, I call for a cab and get ready while awaiting its arrival.



* * *

The journey feels endless and the driver makes no attempt at conversation, luckily Jake always insists I
carry cash for emergencies and his generosity means it’s more than I realized was even in my purse. It
warms me a little knowing he put it there should I ever be caught somewhere in desperate need of
assistance; that I had money to use. It just makes me feel even more wretched for hurting him this way,
for letting him think I would do that. I’m an idiot, I know this and try his phone for the hundredth time, it’s
still off. Tears pour down my cheek and my heart aches. I have so much to make up for.

Mathews lets me into the apartment with a warm smile and a look of concern, yet he knows his place
and doesn’t ask. I know as soon as I walk in that Jake has never been here. I can just tell from the
emptiness and the fact his case is sat by the kitchen counter, that only his things were dropped off and
he’s never set foot back in here.

I drag both of our cases to the bedroom and get ready for bed, pulling on one of his T-shirts for comfort.
It’s late, Jake probably won’t be home for hours if he refuses to turn his phone back on and well, he
assumes I’m doing god knows what with someone else. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never comes
home at all. I want to find him, but I don’t know how and all I can do until he reads my messages is
wait.

I pick up my phone for one last attempt and stifle a sob as it hits voicemail immediately. I have no idea
where he is or what he’s doing. I want him home with me so badly. I would agree to anything right now.
Eloping, mansions on the moon, and a lifetime of only saying yes to his every whim.

I leave one pathetic message on his machine “Jake, please come home. I need you.” Muffled through
sobs and sniffs and heartbreak.

I finally curl into his side of the bed, crying my heart out until I drift into a hazy tortured sleep, dreaming
of Jake consumed by rage and ripping apart men trying to lay hands on me.



* * *

I’m torn awake by noise in the apartment, I jump in fright realizing the darkness around me is more of a
soft gray and it’s now almost sunrise.

It has to be Jake.

I jump out of bed and run through to the sitting room, my pulse beating crazily in my throat, slamming to
a halt as our eyes meet across the calm spacious room. My heart elated at his final appearance and
almost jumping out of my chest. He looks devastating to me and I just want to run into his arms.

“Where have you been?” I cry, stilling the urge to run at him when he moves through to where I’m
standing. He stares at me with emptiness; tired, disheveled, his eyes dark and ravaged. His
appearance makes me nervous; it could not be more un-Jake if he tried and he doesn’t seem
anywhere near as drunk as he was.

I’m desperate to talk, to try to convince him that nothing happened last night. That I’ve been frantic with
his absence. He sighs and takes in my appearance with the most gut-wrenching look of despair I’ve
ever seen. He swallows hard. Something in his manner starts sending off a million warning bells, the
atmosphere he’s creating sends a cold surge down my spine. A weird distance between us.

Has he really ended things with me?

“Emma, sit down … We need to talk.” His voice is hoarse, he can’t seem to look me in the eye and his
manner is making me feel queasy. He loosely catches my wrist, flinches at our contact, and pulls me
with him toward the couch to one side. I don’t fight, my body on high alert and screaming that
something is majorly off. Terrified of hearing the words that will rip my soul from my body.



Nerves still the words on my lips. Something feels wrong, despite our fight, despite the events of late
something has changed in him. Panic rising inside of me. He sits me on the couch carefully, sliding
down next to me, close. Close enough to reach around me and hold me tight but he doesn’t, he sits
touching legs, maneuvering me into the corner so I’m caged in by him, still unable to look at me. I can
feel the tension from his body, my nerves choking me.

This isn’t Jake, not my controlled and overly confident Carrero, this version of him is making me feel
sick with nerves.

“What is it?” I breathe, my hands beginning to tremble, aching to reach for him but his entire body
language keeps me at bay. I can feel his distance pounding out at me.

Does he think I betrayed him? Does he really want us to be over?


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