Jase turns in down an alley, and I give him a look as he says, “We’re parking in the back employee lot.”
As we drive around the building, I’m surprised at the size. I had no idea he owned a place this big. Although it’s dark and rainy out, I can see that the front lot and side streets are lined with cars.
Jase turns the car into a small empty spot in the back. When I get out and turn around, away from the car, my heart freezes—I can’t breathe.
Holy shit.
I zone in on the blue chipped paint. I see those chips that expose the dark metal underneath almost every day. I’d know them anywhere.
When I take a step back, the heel of my boot snags on a divot in the asphalt and I trip, falling on my bottom. I begin to panic when I hit the ground. All I see is that dumpster, and I can’t get up fast enough.
I can’t even hear Jase as I see his lips move as he squats in front of me. Quickly, I pull myself up and Jase follows, grabbing my shoulders, he puts me back in the car. I lower my head to my knees and begin to sob uncontrollably.
When Jase gets in the car, I start screaming, “Get me out of here! Go! Get me out of here!”
He doesn’t say a word as he starts the car. I sit up, with sobs wracking me. I’m still screaming when I see the back door open, and Ryan comes out. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the shock in his face as I’m crying and screaming at Jase to drive.
He rips out of the parking lot as I hear Ryan yelling my name.
Covering my face with my hands, I continue to wail.
Jase pulls the car into a gas station and throws the car in park. Getting out, he comes around to my side, opens my door, and kneels down beside me.
“Candace, I need you to breathe. Calm down, okay?”
But I can’t. That night keeps replaying in my head. That dumpster. Jack ripping off my clothes. Digging my nails in the asphalt, trying to get away. It all flashes through me.
“Candace, look at me. What’s wrong?”
Letting my head fall in my hands, I say, “That’s the alley. That’s the alley Jack . . .” I still can’t bring myself to say that word, but no words are needed when Jase pulls me into him and holds me.
“Oh God,” he mutters over and over as I cry.
My sobs begin to weaken, and fatigue overcomes me. I release my hold on Jase and fall back into the seat, thoroughly drained and exhausted.
“Let me take you back to my place, okay?”
My eyes sting from the mixture of tears and makeup, so I keep them closed and nod my head.
?????
Walking into Jase’s apartment, I head straight to his bedroom and lay my head on his pillow. My head is pounding, and my body is weak. Jase lies down next to me and holds me.
“What can I do?” he asks hopelessly.
“Just make it go away,” I mumbled. If only he could, I just might have a fighting chance to be myself again. Instead I lie here, as I have so many times before: pathetic, weak, and broken.
Letting out a sigh of defeat, he tells me, “I wish I could. I would. I would do anything to take this away from you.”
I know that he would too, but hearing the pain in his voice brings on another slew of tears.
We both jump when there is a loud pounding on his door. I sit up when Jase gets out of bed.
“Stay here,” he says as he shuts the bedroom door behind him.
I soon hear Ryan’s loud voice demanding to know where I am and Jase yelling at him to give me space, when the door suddenly opens.
Still crying, I look up at Ryan, and he gently closes the door behind him and rushes over to the side of the bed where I am sitting. Kneeling between my legs, he holds firmly onto my knees. I hate seeing the pain and confusion in his eyes. I continue crying and repeating, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m . . .”
Grabbing me behind my back, he slides me off the edge of the bed and onto the floor with him. “What happened, babe?”
Hiding my face in my hands as I cry, I keep apologizing. He pulls me tight against him, and I wonder what I could possibly say to excuse this breakdown. He’s going to want to know, and I don’t know what to do.
He takes my wrists and pulls my hands away from my face, “I need you to talk to me.”
Looking down at my lap, I say the first thing that comes to my mind, “I just . . . I got myself too worked up and had a panic attack. I know you wanted me there tonight, but I couldn’t.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
“I was embarrassed. This has happened a few times in the past, but only Jase knows that I have these.”
He wraps me up in his arms, and I feel horrible. I didn’t lie, but I still feel guilty.
When I’m calmed down, he backs away and looks me in the eyes when he says, “You could’ve come to me. Jase isn’t the only one you have, you know?”
The hurt in his eyes is too much, and I have to look away, but he lowers his head to catch my dropping eyes. “I need you to trust me enough to talk to me.” Nodding my head he continues, “I understand you and Jase, but I know how I feel about you.” He takes a moment before softly saying, “I want you to need me more than him.”