Unconditional

“Don’t—” I try, my heart racing like crazy in my chest, but he won’t stop.

“So where is the lucky guy, huh?” he sneers, looking around. “Let me guess, some other poor dope with a trust fund who’s going to regret the day he ever met you.”

I glance down, suddenly ashamed. “He’s not here,” I whisper, wishing the ground could open and swallow me up. I feel exposed, my loneliness and longing on display for everyone to see—including the one man I wish more than anything would just leave me alone.

Alex laughs again, this time louder. Victorious. “So he saw through you already? Good for him. You know, I pity that poor kid, getting stuck with you as a mother.” Alex leans in even closer, so I can see the cruel fury in his eyes,

“Stop,” I protest weakly, but he keeps right on going.

“You’re a frigid, spiteful, stuck-up bitch.” Alex spits the words at me. “All that time I spent with you, I wanted to blow my f**king brains out. You’re nothing,” he adds, with a loathing stare. “You’ve always been nothing. Just a pretty whore willing to f**k around for an expense account. You’ll always wind up alone because no guy can stand the sight of you once you’ve spread your pretty little legs.”

“Hey!” Emerson comes charging out of the restaurant. He steps between me and Alex, shielding me with his body. “You get away from her.”

“Is this him?” Alex demands, his voice rising. “You left me for this loser?”

“I’m the loser who’s going to break your face if you don’t get away from her,” Emerson demands, his voice low with the threat.

For a terrible moment, I think that Alex is mad enough to fight him. But he takes in Emerson’s solid build and backs off.

Alex snorts. “She’s not worth the trouble,” he sneers dismissively, straightening up his suit. “Enjoy your whore.”

He turns and strolls away without a backwards glance.

I stumble back, my heart racing.

“Are you OK?” Emerson turns back to me.

“I…I don’t know.” I hold out my hand to steady myself. I’m dizzy, the world suddenly spinning. “He just wouldn’t stop. He said…He said…”

It all comes crashing down on me, the terrible truth in all his words.

You’ll always be alone…

I feel a stab of pain in my abdomen. I cry out in shock and fear.

“Carina?” Juliet comes rushing out. “What happened?”

But I can’t reply. The pain shoots through me again, and I clutch at my stomach. The baby. No. I can’t…

“I can’t breathe,” I whisper, gasping for air. Everything’s spinning at a terrible speed, my heart racing, too fast in my chest. Panic consumes me, and my legs give way.

Emerson grabs me, holding me up.

“Oh God, she’s white as a sheet,” I hear Juliet say, as if from far away. But it’s too late, I’m already falling, falling.

The darkness swallows me whole.

28

She’s gone.

Carina’s been gone three months now, and she’s not coming back.

Who’s fault is that? You’re the one who pushed her away. You lost her. You lost her.

You fool.

Brit finds me slumped on the floor of the apartment above the bar, having the same damn argument in my mind I’ve been having for weeks now, with nothing for company but a whiskey bottle, aching memories, and a pain in my chest so deep I feel like I’m cut wide open.

I’ve been bleeding for weeks now, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

“Jesus, will you look at yourself?” She stands in the doorway, taking it in. “You’ve got to quit this, Garrett. You’re falling apart.”

“Leave me alone,” I growl, taking another gulp of the whiskey. I’m slumped in the living room, my back against the wall.

The wall you f**ked Carina against, so hard she came screaming your name.

Brit ignores my demand and strides into the apartment, pulling back the drapes and flooding the room with light. I flinch, wincing back from the light. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, all night maybe. I couldn’t sleep in my bed back at the beach house, there are too many memories there. The piano in the corner, the porch where I blew it all to hell. And the bed, that damn bed that held nights of passion like I’ve never known before. I’ve washed the sheets a dozen times, but somehow, they still smell of her perfume.

She’s haunting me, every damn place I turn.

“There’s a whole bar of people down there, Garrett,” Brit says, her voice softening. “Jody’s trying to hold it together for you, but keep this up, and it’ll all go to hell. And then where will you be?”

“Just as screwed as I am today.” I raise the bottle to her in a bitter toast. “Cheers.”

Brit rolls her eyes and stalks forward to snatch the bottle from my hand. “No way am I letting you piss this place away. Gainful employment is the only thing standing between you and total self-destruction.”

“Brit,” I growl, losing patience. “I’m not in the mood for your f**king games.”

“And I’m not in the mood to watch you wallow in pathetic self-pity,” Brit snaps back, her voice rising. “So how about you call me when you’re not acting like such a dick?”

She turns and heads for the door.

“Don’t hold your breath!” I call after her, but right away, I feel a stab of regret. I’ve only met two women who know me well enough to call me on my bullshit, who don’t give a damn what I say. Brit, right here, and Carina.