Page 42 of Crashed
“It was a mistake…I never wanted?—”
“You told me you were carrying my child. How did you expect me to react when I found out you’d lied through your teeth, playing on my insecurities to get what you wanted? It wasn’t some harmless white lie. Jesus.” They’d gone over this so many damned times, and she still didn’t get it. He was sick of living in the past, but his ex had him over an emotional barrel, bound by her secrets and lies and unable to tell a single person about any of it for fear of what she might do.
After he discovered she’d never been pregnant, he’d found sleeping pills that she’d hidden, a lot of them. She’d threatened to kill herself if he ever left—or if he told anyone what she’d done to keep him. She’d been extremely volatile, breakable, totally messed up. He’d had no choice but to stay, to get her help, to keep her secret, a secret he still kept now out of fear.
She moved in close and placed her hand on his chest.
“Please, Deacon. I can’t bear this… Anyone but her.” She gripped his jacket and clung to him. “I still love you. We were good together…we could try again…”
“No.” He gripped her hands and loosened her hold, dropping them to her sides. “I care about you, Emily. I don’t want to see you hurt. But we were never good together. Our entire marriage was based on a lie.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she screamed.
He wasn’t fast enough. Didn’t grab her wrists to stop her from lashing out. Fingernails clawing at his chest, she tore open several buttons on his shirt, doing damage to his skin.
He was used to this, used to her rages, her mood swings. If Emily didn’t get her way, all pretense of sweet and wounded flew out the window. She clung to him, screaming and crying until he tore her off and held her immobile. “Stop this. Now,” he barked at her.
She yanked her hands free, face flushed with anger.
Lifting a shaky hand, she straightened her hair. “You’re making a mistake.”
Before he could reply, she spun on a heel and stormed toward the elevator.
He shoved a hand through his hair and watched her get in, making sure she left. For some reason, she still had this warped idea about him, about their relationship. And despite what she’d just said, she didn’t love him.
In the beginning, when they’d first met in college, yeah, he’d cared for her, a lot, but in the end, he’d seen her true colors. At times, she could be incredibly cruel and selfish, and because of that his feelings toward her had changed.
He’d broken it off and felt nothing but relief.
Then he’d gone home, and in the space of a year Alex had blossomed. He hadn’t been blind; she’d always been attractive and it wasn’t a surprise she was a knockout, but there’d been something else, a boost in confidence, a peacefulness that hadn’t been there before. Leaving the
foster system had changed the once scared, insecure girl.
Yeah, those things had still been there, but a weight had been lifted from her narrow shoulders, and it had shone through, lighting her up like a ray of sunshine.
When she’d walked into the kitchen late one night, wearing of all things, one of his old T-shirts, he’d felt blindsided. He’d realized he wanted her, wanted a taste of her so badly he would have happily gotten down on his knees and begged.
But she’d come to him without reservation. She’d let him kiss her. God, that kiss. Her heart had been hammering faster than his. The sweet, inexperienced way she’d kissed him back had turned him inside out. He hadn’t planned on taking her virginity that night. Sex wasn’t what he’d intended when he led her to his room. He’d just wanted her in his bed for a few hours, wanted to make out some more, talk to her.
It’d been months since he’d really talked to her, he’d been so busy with school, and Emily.
But then they’d kissed some more, and Alex had shimmied out of his shirt and wrapped her legs around his hips. In that moment he’d been gone, completely lost to her.
And then, then she’d whispered, “Please.”
The longing in that one word, the need, it had lit him up like a lightbulb switching on. He’d known in that moment Alex was it for him.
The memory was so vivid it could have happened yesterday. The way she’d trembled in his arms, her soft cry as he’d pushed inside her for the first time, the way she’d begged him not to stop when he’d tried to pull away, worried that he’d hurt her. The single tear that had slid down her cheek after she’d come apart beneath him.
He couldn’t mess this up, not again. And he sure as hell couldn’t let Emily stand in his way anymore. Steve needed to take control of the situation. It was time to cut the ties and move on; they’d been stuck in this destructive cycle long enough.
The last thing he wanted to do right now was go away for two days. Now that he had Alex where he wanted her again, he could barely handle a few hours away from her. He cursed when he looked down and took in the condition of his shirt. Makeup stained the front and collar.
He only had the remainder of the day left before he had to leave for his trip, and he planned on spending it with Alex.
And as much as he wanted to spend those hours in bed, this was the perfect opportunity to show her she was so much more than a convenient fuck. Plus, if he got her into bed now, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
Doing up his jacket to hide his shirt, he grabbed his briefcase and headed down to the parking garage. Time for home, a quick change of clothes, then he was taking Alex out. He wanted to treat her, make her feel special.
