Come to Me Softly (Closer to You #2)(83)
Author: A.L. Jackson

So I raced headlong, right into the eye of the storm.

I cut through two lanes, taking the exit to the route I’d memorized.

Here I was, throwing myself at the feet of a man who hated my guts. A man I’d f**king loved with all my heart growing up, a man I’d looked up to and respected. The man I’d prayed I’d one day grow up to make proud.

And for what?

I had no idea what I hoped to achieve, coming here.

What difference would it make?

It sure as hell wouldn’t bring my mother back.

But truth was, no matter how far and for how long I’d run, I always knew it’d come to this. That one day I’d have to stand in front of the man I destroyed. Maybe this was just fate taking another perverse turn, teasing me with ecstasy, tempting me with the girl when the whole time it’d been a ploy to push me toward this brutal punishment.

The question was, who would be punished tonight?

Seeing him was going to hurt like a bitch.

No doubt about it.

But him seeing me? What would it to do him, coming face-to-face with me?

Fear lashed and I pegged the throttle. I sped through intersections, diving deeper into the suburban city, my destination so unclear but set in stone. My head spun in this muddle of confusion and dread and the faintest flicker of hope.

I was scared to see him. I could admit it. Like Christopher said, I was nothing but a coward. I didn’t want to witness what he’d become in the wake of my ruin.

The sound of him sobbing echoed in my mind, those nights that had been the loneliest of my life, when I’d begged for death while he wept for hers.

I’d broken his heart, trampled all the light from his life. Crushed it.

I’d taken the good and left him with nothing.

Shame gripped me by the throat.

I knew I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t come where I wasn’t welcome.

Still I surged forward. For Aly. For our life.

I turned right into a quiet neighborhood. Mature trees lined the streets, and manicured lawns stretched up from the road to the modest houses set close together. Lights glowed from within them, and I could imagine the stirring of families coming together inside as evening settled outside their walls.

I swallowed hard when I saw the sign proclaiming the street name that had haunted me for the last three days.

What am I doing? I asked myself for what felt like the millionth time.

And I could almost feel Aly’s hand press over my heart, like she was giving me silent encouragement. A soft buoy to my spirit.

I was doing it for her.

I was doing it for my family.

My bike warbled low as I slowed. Inching forward, I approached the address.

Terror welled in my chest, stretching me thin.

But for Aly, I’d try. I’d f**king try. Because I couldn’t live without her. And God, the truth was, I didn’t want her to have to live without me.

I pulled off to the right side of the road, across the street and one house down from my father’s.

Bright lights blazed from within, pouring out from every window. Red tiles covered the pitched roof, and the shutters and trim were painted a dark green. Wood columns jutted out from the roof to cover the front door in a cozy porch that was lifted two steps from the rock pathway. Flower beds ran the span of the house, and shrubs rose up to flank the freshly painted matching green door. Like the rest of houses in the neighborhood, the lawn was cut short, full and lush, extending from the sidewalk bordering the street to the flower beds blooming below the windows.

That rock lodged in my throat expanded, digging into my vocal cords, squeezing off my air.

Confusion clouded my mind.

What I expected coming here, I didn’t know.

But this simple house definitely was not it.

Torn up, I guess I’d imagined. Crumbling and decayed.

Like our lives.

But no.

This house looked like a home.

A twinge of envy jabbed me.

I shook it off, nudged the throttle on my bike, and cut across the road to come to a stop right in front. I was shaking when I kicked the stand and stood. Tremors rolled through me, uncontrollable and harsh.

I gripped my head. Fuck, I just had to do this.

Sucking in a steeling breath, I stalked over the flagstone path, ready to face all the shit Aly’d been urging me into for months, the hatred and the shame. For her, I’d take it.

I’d take it for both of them.

On the porch, I stood in the hazy glow of the ornate hurricane lamp hanging on the wall and rang the doorbell, twitching while I waited.

Footsteps echoed on the other side. I listened to the distinct sound of sliding metal as the latch was freed.

The door opened a crack.

For the flash of a second, I pinched my eyes shut, not ready to face what was waiting for me on the other side. Finally, I pried them open.

A woman stood there, pretty but plain, probably in her midforties. Dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her light brown eyes widened with unsettled surprise when they landed on me. Wary, her gaze made an analyzing pass down my body, along my arms to my hands squeezed so f**king tight they were cutting off circulation.

“Oh,” blew from her mouth in what sounded like fear.

Agitation shifted my feet. I shook my head, blinked, began to back away. I felt like I was on the verge of losing my goddamned mind. I was pretty sure that fact was evident on my face. Pair that with the rest of me?

Bet she was wishing she’d taken a peek in her peephole before she’d so hastily opened her door.

In an effort to assuage her, I lifted my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry . . . I must have the wrong—” I started to say, edging away, before her mouth drew into a sharp O. Panic flashed across her expression.

“Oh m-m-my God,” she stuttered. Her hand slammed down on the center of her chest like she’d just flatlined and she was trying to jump-start her heart.

A slow dread settled over my consciousness. It only made me move faster.

I was out of here.

“Wait,” she demanded on a desperate exhale. “Please, don’t go.” She flung the door open wide. Keeping her eye pinned on me like she could tie me down, she frantically shouted, “Neil!”

The name sliced through me with a keening awareness, and that dread pounding at my ribs dropped like a rock into the roiling pit of my stomach. “Neil!” the woman hollered again, flipping her head around to look down a short hall that led into the house. “Get out here!”

But I’d already caught the bastard’s face over her shoulder.

Frozen, he stood at the end of the hall. Shock dilated his dark blue eyes, and his chest heaved and he struggled for a breath. “Jared?” he managed, taking a step forward. Pain cut a river of lines across his face, and his mouth twisted in some kind of horrified confusion. “Jared?” he asked again, almost on a plea.