Jim says my name, but it sounds like he's far away, and his voice still carries a thick New York accent. I reach out but lose my balance. No sooner than I'm falling forward is Jim catching me in his arms. He cradles me against his hard chest, murmuring soft words I don't understand. I suck in a deep breath, knowing it's Jim and not Mike. The anger that flowed through my veins is gone now, and all that's left in its wake is a sorrow I don't understand. Jim isn't Mike, and I know that, but the fear still lingers.
A subtle tingle starts in my toes and works its way up through my legs to my torso and finally my arms. As it travels, it feels less like a tingle and more like a buzzing, but then a heaviness comes over me, and it feels so right and perfect that I welcome it. Mike's image slowly fades from my mind, but before it disappears completely, I relive the worst moment of my entire life as Mike's blade pierces Ian's flesh. Blood spills from his small, frightened face, mixing with tears that stream his cheeks. Not my boy. Not Ian.
"No, Mike. No," I whisper to myself, knowing Jim can hear me and he's going to ask questions. I just can't stop myself. The moment still haunts me, despite the passage of time, and it doesn't cease to hurt.
"Who the fuck is Mike and what did he do to you?"
When the fog lifts and it's just me and Jim once again, I stiffen in his arms. He's asking questions and demanding answers. Answers I don't want to give, moments I don't want to relive. But I have to. Because Jim doesn't want me, and the only way to convince him of that is to tell him the truth about the woman he calls his girl.
"Won't ask again, babe."
"No," I say firmly. Once I tell him, this is all over, and he doesn't get to dictate my pain. "I'll tell you when I'm ready, and I'm not ready now. You don't have to like it, but you do have to deal with it."
"Just tell me," he says softly, and it breaks down my walls just a bit. "I want to know you. Every broken little part of you."
"Why?" I can't think of a single reason.
"I can't put you back together if I don't know where you're broken."
Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself to speak the words I never have before. Not to anyone.
CHAPTER 10
Ruby
Fort Bragg, California
July 1997
"I'm gonna go clean up the rooms," I say to Layla, Grady's wife. She's had her ass perched at the bar for over an hour now and hasn't said much of anything after I pissed her off. She needed to hear what I had to say, so she can just get over her shit. Babies deserve a mother who puts them first and fuck her for not putting all that shit aside for her baby.
Speaking of people getting over their shit...
It's been over a month since Jim was patched in as VP. He's always been an asshole, but lately it's like he's competing in the asshole Olympics. The first couple of weeks, he'd probably have won bronze. But after yesterday? That motherfucker is a damn gold medalist. He makes my head spin with his mood swings. One minute he's smiling and flirting with me and the next he's shutting down and is acting cold as ice. I can't make sense of it, and I'm done trying to. We spent months volleying between snipping at one another and flirting. Then we kissed and it was romantic and all this stuff that I never thought I'd get. But because my life's a bitch, I never did really get it. We kissed, and Jim finished his fight with Grady--he won--and then he got absolutely shit-faced with the boys. And I had to leave to take care of our kids. I don't know what I expected, but I expected a hell of a lot more than I got. That night just confirmed what I already knew, but stupidly let myself forget. Anything I might be feeling for Jim is just that--a feeling--and it can't be anything more.
"Do what you want," Layla says with a coolness that's only there to mask her anger. Biting my tongue, I ignore her and walk away. Dumb bitch is pregnant but won't put the drugs away long enough to make sure her kid is born with half a brain. To say I hate her might be an understatement.