The Lover’s Promise (No Exceptions #3)(32)
Author: J.C. Reed

But I didn’t care.

By going away, he would leave me and my child behind with no chance to mend what was broken, what I hoped could be reconciled. He would leave my future bleak. Sure, he had secrets, sure his words had hurt me, but I loved him nonetheless.

I pushed my hand back into the bucket again, diving a little deeper until I was sure I was bleeding, and the ice started to both burn and numb my skin at the same time. In spite of the stinging tears and the strange tightening sensation in my chest, the numbness in my hands felt different. It was oddly comforting and anesthetizing. Much more tolerable than the pain Jett had caused me.

“Stop it, Brooke. You’re going to hurt yourself,” Jett said.

“I don’t care. It’s my body.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he roared. “You’re pregnant.”

“Why do you care? Don’t you have a suitcase to pack or something?” I pulled my hands out only to shove them back in again.

“Stop it.” He had stepped next to me, watching me in both anger and shock. “You’re fucking hormonal and emotional.”

Seriously?

Now he was blaming my pregnancy for his failings.

Yes, I was emotional, but I was not hormonal. At least not a lot. Not that it affected me, or did it? Who cared?

“Nice try.” I let out a laugh. “Now you blame my pregnancy when it’s in fact your fault that I’m reacting this way.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “Hold on. How is it my fault?”

“After what you just said, how can you still pretend it’s not your fault, Jett?” I stared at him, full of contempt. “There’s no reason for you to lie anymore, so stop pretending and just be honest.” I ground my hand against the ice, enjoying the painful sensation.

“Stop it, Brooke.”

“Says the one who kicked his shins bloody.”

I readied myself to thrust my hands back in again, when he grabbed my hand, holding it up in midair.

“I said, stop it.” His deep voice didn’t leave room for discussion.

“Why do the fuck do you care?” I repeated.

“Because I just do.” He tightened his grip on my hand.

“The fuck you are. Let go of me.” As hard as I could I pulled my hand away, but his hold on me remained relentless.

“I will when you’ve calmed yourself.”

“Calm myself?” I laughed. “I’m fucking calm.”

“No, you’re not.”

He was right. I wasn’t.

All those hormones rushing inside of me felt crushing. They might be pregnancy hormones. They might be stress hormones caused by insomnia. Whatever. I didn’t care what they were called.

“You’ve no right,” I hissed, yanking my hand again. “No right to tell me what to do. My life, my body, my choices, my mistakes, they are not your problems. Not your business.”

I had every intention of continuing to slam my hand into the sharp ice—until my heart stopped breaking. It was either my heart or my hand. And my hand had to do.

For once I was grateful that Sylvie had dragged me to a training course years ago where I had learned how to deal with situations like this. Twisting my hand out of Jett’s tight grip, I pushed him away and was about to start to punch the ice again when something gripped me from behind.

It was Jett.

The movement of him wrapping his strong arms around me came so unexpected it knocked my breath out of my lungs as he lifted me up in the air.

For a moment I was stunned, and then I started struggling against his iron grip.

It wasn’t possible.

My feet dangled up in the air, and judging from the lock on my body, he had no intention of letting go of me.

“Let me down!” I screamed.

An amused snort escaped his lips, infuriating me even more as he carried me away from the bucket of ice cubes like I weighed nothing. I struggled, but my attempts to escape were fruitless. Jett had me on lockdown.

More anger washed over me, threatening to burn me like fire. How the fuck dare he keep making decisions for me? Couldn’t he see that I was bleeding inside and that I needed the pain to help me bring some sort of sanity into my life before the pain inside me would rip me apart? And how dare he use his size advantage against me, and press his body against mine when his proximity wasn’t welcome?

“Let me down, Jett,” I repeated, this time squeezing more icy determination into my voice.

“I won’t. Not until you calm yourself,” he said in my ear, nuzzling my neck. The skin where his lips touched me prickled when he inhaled deeply. “You look cute when you’re angry, you know that? If you keep being like this, I’ll be forced to keep you close to me the whole day.”

“It’s not funny.”

“No, to you, it isn’t.” He laughed in my ear, and my heart melted a few more inches. God, how much I wanted to strangle him in that instant.

“I hate you,” I said, furious at him. But I hated myself even more for not seeing it coming. Hated the way my heart raced just because I was nestled in his arms. Hated that I had the unwilling wish for him to kiss me, touch me and hold me when I had to focus on being angry.

“No, you don’t, Brooke,” Jett said matter-of-factly. “That’s just an excuse for how much you love me.”

God. He was so right. I was that weak. A wave of hopelessness and despair rattled me. Even when he made fun of me, I still melted when he laughed. Tears welled in my eyes.

“No, I really hate you. Like hate hate you,” I lied. “I hate your guts. I hate that I loved you once. I hate that you are…like this.” My voice and body were shaking, which was bad enough. But it was worse that my heart made somersaults, ready to give in to the annoying weakness I felt for him.

“Like what? Saving you from yourself?” He chuckled. “I would say I’m quite noble.”

I scoffed, marveling at the size of his ego. “You’re no gentleman, Jett.”

“And you’re not exactly sweet honey.”

“Fuck you.” I kicked under me, but my feet only hit the air.

“I would love to,” he whispered. “I want you to want me. To fuck you until you can’t walk straight.’

His words aroused me, his touch fueled the fire within me, but more than that he infuriated me to the core.

“I really hope that someday karma slaps you in the face before I do,” I said through gritted teeth.

He laughed and my heart fluttered. ”Hate is a good thing Brooke, you know? At least you’re talking. It’s so much better than you shutting me out.”