Irrefutable (The Apprehensive Duet Book 2) (7 page)

STARING AT THE tear in the leather mitt on my trainer’s right hand, I imagine it’s everything currently wrong in my life. It’s my father. It’s losing Jordan’s dad. It’s the stupid predicament I’ve found myself in. It’s wanting to be a good person and not let anyone down. It’s continually letting myself and everyone else down. I heave every ounce of anger and frustration I can muster into each punch that lands on that mitt.

How much can one person take before they break? Because I’m pretty sure that I’m on the brink of a total collapse. So much pressure. So much stress. So much hurt. My life has become this ugly loop of devastation that seems to run on repeat. Nothing is ever as it seems for me anymore. Keeping up this act is slowly killing me inside.

A reel of images keeps running through my mind. None of them fit together or even belong near each other. Alex’s face telling me he just wants me to be happy. Jordan’s endless support over the last six months. The joy in Diana and Martin’s eyes as Jordan and I told them we were getting married. My father’s disgusting display of his true colors as he threatened me with jail time. The look on his face as he reminded me that Martin’s death didn’t get me out of the wedding.

How do I choose who to hurt? I don’t want to hurt anyone other than my piece of shit father. Jordan and Diana just lost so much; how do I add to that? I don’t want to. They welcomed me into their circle and treated me as if I’d been family forever. I’ve never been a part of a family dynamic such as theirs. I’ve never truly been a top priority to anyone, not the way I am to them. I sat there at the funeral with Jordan on one side and Diana on the other, both of them gripping my hands as if I alone were their only salvation. I’ve never been needed like that before and haven’t ever felt that important to anyone.

I’ve been doing my best to hold them together for the last few weeks. Everything I went through with Ashley after her accident and losing her baby helped me know exactly what I needed to do for them. I had experience in planning a funeral, but this time everything I did was actually appreciated. It was nice to be needed and valued. So how do I tell them I can’t go through with the wedding?

Besides the loss of his father, Jordan is under a lot of stress, making me even more apprehensive of piling more onto him. He’s already got so much going on. He’s been keeping longer hours at work the last few weeks and he’s dealing with big changes at his company. It wasn’t a secret that Jordan was taking over, but I don’t think anyone expected it this soon. It looked like Martin was going to go into remission, but then the opposite happened and the cancer started to progress again, at twice the rate. We didn’t know. He didn’t tell us. So everyone was completely shocked when boom, gone. Of course one of the best men I’ve ever met had to get one of the most aggressive forms of cancer. Fuck cancer!

My knee connects with Billy’s side, and the anger I feel toward the universe taking Martin fuels the second and third hits.

Diana’s words echo through my head. “I’m so happy Martin got the see Jordan and you together before he passed.” Those aren’t the only words swirling around in there, though. My father’s threats, Alex’s pleas, Ashley’s words from months ago telling me I’m a hypocrite, Blair telling me the same thing, Jordan thanking me for giving his father what he wanted before he was gone. It just cycles over and over, an endless loop of guilt and grief and fear. I can’t handle it. I can’t take all the conflicting thoughts and feelings rushing through me like a tsunami of warring emotions.

I’m going down.

It’s pulling me under, suffocating me slowly but surely.

Holding me prisoner and I can’t break free.

I’m going to drown.

“Whoa,” Billy calls out. “Stop.”

I hear him but I can’t seem to make my body stop moving. My arms keep going, punch after punch aimed at the mitts until Billy somehow morphs into Alex. Why is my mind picturing Alex? Alex has the least to do with my constant turmoil. Maybe this is karma’s way of punishing me for what I did to him. Everything he said to me that day he came to my place for answers was correct.

I
am
a coward. I didn’t want to know the truth about us. I did what I do best and pushed the feelings down so I could force Alex into a box he didn’t belong in. Simply because it was easier for me. He has shown me the man he is time and time again but it was easier for me to push him away.

I wonder if taking the promotion away from me all those years ago was just the beginning of my father’s plan. My father had to know that I’d never agree to leave a boyfriend of my choosing to marry a man of his. The motherfucker knew even then threatening my job was the way to manipulate me into doing anything. How he knew that Alex would give me the opportunity to twist something to fit my deranged way of thinking is beyond me. How does everything seem to work in his favor? How can one piece of shit asshole get everything to go right for him? And I can’t get a single fucking thing to work out for me? Not a single one. Everything comes with a stipulation and consequence. I can’t fucking take it anymore!

I don’t know when the anger leaves me and turns into sorrow, but before I even realize what’s happening, loud sobs rip from my throat as I fall to the ground and crack. The battered soul inside finally giving in, splintering into so many pieces that I’m sure a few of them are lost forever.

Strong, sure arms wrap themselves around my shaking body and a soft, comforting voice whispers in my ear, “It’s okay, angel. Let it out.”

Warmth immediately spreads through my body at the sound of his voice. I’m so far gone my mind is imagining Alex to protect itself.

It must be time for me to head into a padded room because my illusion of Alex is now rocking and shushing me in the middle of the gym while I have an emotional breakdown. I look up to see what the hell is going on, and I find the real Alex staring back at me.

He’s an amazing sight for sore eyes. His fit body covered in a tank top and basketball shorts. A green towel thrown over his shoulder that’s almost a perfect match to his eyes. His beautiful hair is tied in a bun that’s nicer than mine. He’s really here.

“You’re real?” The words slip from my lips before I can rope them back in. “How?”

“I’m real,” he whispers. “I came here to do the same thing you’re doing, but I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“But you’re not Billy,” I state the obvious since my brain has decided that today is the day it wants to quit working.

“No, I’m not,” he laughs before his voice turns serious. “You gave Billy a little scare there. You were so far gone. Did you even notice your knuckles are bleeding through the tape on your hands?”

I look down at my fingers through tears pooled in my eyes and see the white tape is stained with streaks of red and my hands are a bloody mess. I didn’t feel it at all. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Maybe I’ve finally reached the point of no return and have officially lost what little was left inside me.

“It’s time we finish our talk, angel,” Alex says gently. “You can’t keep going on like this. You need to talk to someone. I know something else is going on here, and whatever it is scares the hell out of you, but keeping everything all bottled up inside is killing you. You just scared the hell out of me too. So here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to head into that locker room and take a hot shower. You’re going to meet me back out here in twenty minutes, and we’re going to go somewhere and talk everything out. You can trust me, Quinn. I promise.”

He doesn’t even give me the chance to object before he’s helping me to my feet and pushing me into the locker room. Right now I feel as though I have no control over my body. Almost as if my brain shut down part of itself and is running solely on instinct.

The locker room is empty as I strip out of my gross clothes. I step under the water in the shower stall and let it pelt down on me for a few minutes, trying to give myself a small reprieve. The stinging of the water hitting my knuckles brings me back out of my fog a little bit. Can I finally let it out? Can I finally tell someone what’s happening inside me? Is it possible that today may just be the day that I figure out some way to fix the clusterfuck that my life has become?

Alex is waiting for me when I step out of the locker room. No words are exchanged as he takes my hand in his and walks me to the front of the gym.

“I didn’t know you still came here,” he admits as we make our way onto the sidewalk.

Pulling my sweatshirt a little tighter to fight the cold chill in the November air, I answer, “I never stopped. Billy and I still meet at least once a week.”

Alex just nods his head and continues pulling me forward, I assume to the coffee shop down the block.

The bells jingle as we walk through the door making a happy sound that doesn’t match my mood. The Christmas decorations are starting to go up around town, including here. Where I used to love Christmas not too long ago, these last two Christmases have been lacking for me, and the thought of mustering any spirit for this one just makes me want to curl up in a ball on the floor.

I miss the old days, when I wasn’t constantly empty, and red and green glitter decorations made me incredibly happy. I only have enough strength to handle getting through this mess my father is perpetrating. There’s no room left for anything more and it seems that everything else has lost its meaning.

“I’ll get us something to drink while you find a place to sit. Make sure it’s comfortable because we’re not leaving here until I know everything.”

I look around at the fairly empty room. It’s barely seven a.m. on a Wednesday, so I’m not surprised by the lack of people. I head toward the back corner where the lighting is lower and it’s more secluded. Deciding on the plush purple couch in the far corner, I settle in and tuck my feet under my ass. I glance over at the counter and watch Alex as he orders our drinks.

There’s no telling how any of this will go. How will I feel finally getting everything off my chest? I’m not the least bit surprised that Alex knew there was more going on than I initially told him … I swear he’s part clairvoyant. I want to tell him. I need to tell him. I know deep down that he’s the only person I’ll allow myself to trust right now.

I’m not even sure how I was able to convince myself that Alex was anything but an amazing man who cared about me. Thinking back without my blinders on, nothing he said should’ve led me to believe he was cheater or thought it was okay. I read him totally wrong and hurt him –and myself – immeasurably. And yet here he is, still being the man I need. Still helping me through the tough times.

No matter what problems I faced while we were together, he always made me feel like they were his as well. Even the smallest, most insignificant things. There was never any judgment. He always wanted what was best for me. Still does, even after the atrocious way I treated him.

Something about the way he listens and understands what I’m not saying makes me feel comfortable. Known. Accepted. Alex has also always known just the right way to say things to make the biggest impact. The right words, the right tone.

Armed with a coffee in each hand, Alex sits down next to me and hands one over. “Okay, Quinn. What’s really going on?”

I stare into those beautiful hazel eyes that I used to get lost in. I can do this. I can tell someone. My father can’t touch me here. Alex would never do anything to make this worse for me. I take a deep breath and release it. Now or never. “My father is threatening more than just my career and reputation.”

An uneasy look crosses Alex’s face. “How so?”

“My father has some kind of evidence of fraud he’s created against me, and if I don’t marry Jordan, he’s threatening to call the Feds and tip them off, which will open an investigation into my pipeline and accounts.” Once I start talking the words just tumble out of my mouth effortlessly. Just like that, it feels like a ton of bricks has been lifted off my chest. I’ve been holding on to that secret for the last four months, and it’s been eating me from the inside out. I feel lighter. Even though it’s just the tip of the iceberg, it feels good to say something.

“THE FEDS?” PLEASE let me have heard that wrong. Please!