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I see headlights coming at me and then stop on the side, and I know I’m finally safe. He opens my door and grabs me in his arms. “I can’t breathe,” I tell him, my breathing coming in pants now, the pants hurting my chest even more.
“You can breathe,” my father says. “Just look at me.” I look at him, and the breathing gets worse, the pants shorter, harder, more painful. “You are having a panic attack,” he says, and I look at him. “Just look at me, baby girl, and inhale nice and slow.” I focus on his eyes, his warm eyes, the love showing.
“He doesn’t love me,” I tell him, taking a huge deep breath. “He shattered what we had.”
“Oh, baby,” he says, holding me around my waist and walking to his car. “I’m here.”
He puts me in the car and fastens the seat belt over me. I put my hand to my chest. “Hurts right here,” I tell him of the pain that is so deep I feel it in my bones. I feel it straight down to my soul.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Carter
I watched her get in a cab and drive away. Looking at my watch, I was going to give her an hour and then go to her. Walking back into the party, I look around, and Jennifer comes up to me. “Is Erin okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine,” I lied to her. “It’s just been a long week.”
“Don’t I know it, but soon it will all pay off for her,” Jennifer says, drinking her water bottle.
“What is going to pay off for her?” I ask her, my mouth suddenly going dry and my mind racing. This can’t be happening to me again.
“Her big break,” she says. “You know if you stay in line and don’t fuck things up, she gets her dream job in New York.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, it’s really a done deal at this point because you’ve been good for the past three weeks. Only one more week to go for her.”
“Excuse me,” I say, walking away from her. My hands are suddenly clammy, my throat dry, my heart beating so fast I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I get in my car, my mind going into overdrive. I think back to every conversation we had to see if she mentioned something, to see if she said something, anything that could make sense of this. Moving to fucking New York. Is this for real? My hand grips the steering wheel, and I head to her house, but then turn around when I’m almost there.
She is just like everyone else, I tell myself, yet my heart doesn’t get on board, but I ignore the pull of reason. The night going by is a nightmare, the hours making it worse with all the memories that fill them. I sat at the window, looking out into the darkness, and set my plan in motion. When it was finally over, I thought I would feel better, I thought I would be vindicated, but instead, I was in more pain, more agony. More broken. Let her fucking go to New York after riding on my coattails, taking what she could from me just like all the others. I will burn this relationship down before I’ll be hurt again.
I hear the door slam closed, and I have to stop myself from running after her. I look over at the blonde in my bed. “Get the fuck out,” I tell her, walking back to the bathroom.
“Oh, come on,” she says, getting on her knees, her big tits swaying. “You’re paying me, might as well use me. I was naked all night long, and you haven’t even touched me.” She rolls her nipples, and I turn and walk out.
“When I get back, if you’re not gone, I’m going to put you out on your ass,” I tell her. “I paid you for the night, you did what I wanted you to do, now get out.” I close the door of the bathroom and go to the toilet, and I sit down. My legs trembling, I close my eyes, and the only thing I can see is the pain in her eyes when I stepped into the room. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I don’t wipe it away. I let it fall on the towel that I have wrapped around my waist. Another tear falls down, rolling faster than the last one. I pick up my hand to touch my cheek, but it shakes so much I have to put it back down.
She shouldn’t be driving in that state. What if she needs me? I get up, my legs shaking again, and I hold the counter, grabbing the clothes I just took off when she walked in the house. I open the door and see that the blonde is gone, and the sheet she covered herself with all night lays on the floor. I walk down the stairs, grabbing my keys. I have to make sure she made it home okay. Walking to the garage, I get in my car and pull away from my house. The house that I shared with her and no one else. The house that was only mine is now ours. The road’s almost deserted when I see her car on the side of the road, and my heart starts to beat even faster. I pull up behind her and get out of the car, almost running to her car. I see that she was sick beside her car, and the tears come now. I don’t even bother to notice looking in the car to see if she’s there, but it’s empty. She isn’t anywhere. I look around, yelling her name, wondering if she’s sick somewhere on the side of the road. Did someone stop and kidnap her? Where the hell is she? I run down the road, my eyes going everywhere while I yell her name so loudly and so much my throat is raw. I run my hands through my hair, finally pulling it out. The pain is dull compared to the pain in my stomach. I run back to my car, picking up my phone and calling her. It goes straight to voice mail, her voice makes my heart beat normal, lets me breathe again. I hang up when I hear the beep and go up and down again and again. Nothing, not a trace of her except her car. I wonder if she walked to get help. Did her car break down? I call her again, and it goes to voice mail. I sit in the car not moving, waiting for her to come back. I’ll be here when she comes back, but a tow truck shows up, and I get out of the car.
