Page 69 of Crashed
After a long, hot shower, she pulled on her favorite baggy Led Zeppelin T-shirt and felt slightly more human.
Finger combing her damp hair, she headed back to the living room. Sleep wasn’t an option, not yet. Right then she thought she might never sleep again, because every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. Those intense green eyes, making her feel things she’d tried to deny—silently telling lies, making promises that meant nothing. Making her hope, making her believe in him.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Alex jumped and spun around at the sound of a fist connecting with her door.
“Alex, get down to the workshop,” Rusty called through the door. “Quickly!” That was followed by the sound of her friend’s boots pounding back down the stairs. A surge of adrenaline shot through her veins. Was Piper hurt?
She didn’t muck around, shoved her feet in her work boots, flung her door open, and ran down after her. When she pushed open the garage door the place was pitch-dark. Walking in, she groped for the lights. “Rusty? Piper? What’s going on?”
The door banged shut behind her, followed by the sound of the lock engaging. “Hey!” She threw the switch, and the overhead lights blinked to life, making her squint against the harsh brightness. She tried the door. Locked. Those bitches had locked her in. She banged on the steel door. “Let me the hell out.”
Nothing. Complete silence.
The sound of a car door opening behind her had her freezing on the spot.
No. They wouldn’t, would they?
“Alex?”
Bitches!
Deacon’s usually smooth, deep voice was a hell of a lot deeper than usual, and not as steady. She couldn’t make herself turn around.
“Look at me, Alex, please?”
His voice was closer that time, but she remained rooted to the spot. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.
If I look at you, I’ll break.
Then he was right behind her, his tight stomach, his chest, plastered against her back. She shivered as the heat of his body soaked through her thin T-shirt. His hands snaked around to rest on her belly, and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Please, Alex.” He nuzzled the side of her neck and sucked in a deep breath. “Please let me explain.”
She rested her head against the cool steel in front of her, trying to fight the way her body reacted to his touch, how right it felt. With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she removed his arms from around her waist and stepped away. “There’s nothing to say. Nothing that can change what’s happened.” She crossed her arms and shuffled a step to the side to get some much-needed space. “I saw the pictures, Deacon. I know about you and Emily. I know you’re sleeping with her.”
He shoved a hand in his hair, making it stick up on one side. She took him in. He looked like shit. Stubble darkened his jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot, like he’d had about as much sleep as she had. He was wearing the same trousers and shirt he’d had on at the charity event, only he’d lost the jacket and tie and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
“There is no me and Emily.” His eyes begged her to believe him, and God, she wanted to, but how could she?
“I haven’t slept in the same bed with my ex-wife… I haven’t had sex with my ex-wife since we were married, and that side of our relationship fizzled out after the first few months.” He swallowed, throat working. “I’ll understand if you choose to walk away after the lies, the secrets, the fucked-up way I went about everything, but I need to explain. Will you let me?”
Deacon had never talked about his marriage with Emily or the reason it fell apart, but she’d always wondered, had guessed it had to be something pretty bad for Deacon to be so closed off about it, especially with his sisters. “What happened?”
He released a shaky breath. “It’s kind of hard to get a hard-on over a woman who lies about being pregnant to get you back, manipulating you into marrying her because she knows the pain and guilt you felt when your mother left…that because I’d opened my mouth, told my father what I’d seen, my sisters grew up without their mother. She knew I wouldn’t want that for my own child.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I told her, you see, about you and me.”
Alex stood frozen, struggling to take it all in.
“She called that morning, the morning after you gave yourself to me.” His voice shook on the last word, so much longing in his gaze, she struggled for breath. “I told her that she had to stop calling, that I was in love with you. She broke down, told me she was pregnant. After that, after she told me she was carrying my child…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think I had any other choice. So I went back to her. And fuck, leaving you that day…it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” His nostrils flared. “I found out months later there was no baby, never had been. I told her we were through.”
Alex was stunned. How could Emily do that to him? Lie and scheme like that? “What happened?” she whispered.
“She threatened to kill herself if I left. If I told anyone what she’d done. Convinced me she’d fall apart if I didn’t stay. I planned to leave when she was better, but every time I thought she was doing okay, that finally I could leave, she’d relapse. I was stuck in that nightmare for four years.
“Then I caught her in bed with Steve—another ploy, this time an attempt to make me jealous, to get our relationship back. It blew up in her face. I left.”
“Oh my God.” He’d been through hell because of that selfish bitch.
“It gets worse. I found out yesterday there’s nothing wrong with her, there never was. She’s been manipulating me all these years. Her family cut her off after what happened between us, and she was biding her time with Steve until I wised up and took her back. She used her fake illness to keep me tied to her.” He held Alex’s gaze. “But you threw a monkey wrench in the works and screwed up her plan to win me back. So she pulled the suicide card again. That’s why I was with her, why I couldn’t tell you what was going on. I was afraid what she’d do—that she’d harm herself. She gave me no other choice. I was trying to convince her to get the help I thought she needed.”
