Unbroken (The Disclosure Series Book 2) (21 page)

He found Jeremy leaning against the railing, hunched against the cold but a fire burning bright in his eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”

Luke held his hands up. As much as he wanted to let his fist get acquainted with Jeremy’s face, he knew getting into a fight with a drunken asshole wasn’t going to do any good. And it would only hurt Embry more. “I want to talk.”

“So talk.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair and counted to ten, trying his best to stay calm. “I get it, dude,” he said. “She broke your heart and I’m sorry.”

Jeremy scoffed.

“I know what it feels like to lose her, and it fucking sucks,” he continued. “But it wasn’t intentional what she did to you. She cares more about you than I’m comfortable with, so I’m asking you to stop being a
fucking dickhead
and realize that you’re hurting her. Either suck it up and be a good friend to her or back. The. Fuck. Off.” He clenched his jaw, staring Jeremy down.

Jeremy laughed, and Luke had to fight the growing urge to throw a quick punch and shut him the fuck up. He took another breath, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

“In the big scheme of things,” Jeremy shrugged indifferently, “you’ve caused her a hell of a lot more hurt than I have.”

Luke had no argument there. “I have,” he admitted. “And I’m making up for it now. I remind myself every day how lucky I am that she gave me another chance.”

Jeremy let out a mocking chuckle, and Luke nearly let his fist fly. This kid was infuriating generally, but when he was drunk he was completely unbearable.

“It’s fine, really.” Jeremy threw his hands up. “You two deserve each other with the amount of fucked up shit you do to each other.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, and Jeremy narrowed his eyes condescendingly. “You look confused. You mean she didn’t tell you about crawling into my bed naked, begging me—”

Before Jeremy could finish his sentence, Luke’s hand shot out, gripping Jeremy’s shirt as he slammed him back against the brick wall of the balcony.

“You do
not
want to finish that sentence,” Luke growled.

Jeremy’s eyes went wide with rage as he fought against Luke. But other than landing a weak punch to Luke’s side, his drunken, uncoordinated movements had no effect. As Jeremy continued to struggle, Luke loosened his grip on Jeremy’s shirt, sliding his hand up. He had him by the throat when Embry came flying out onto the balcony.

“Luke! No!” She was frantic, but her firm plea reeled him in, kept him from crushing Jeremy’s throat.

He held tight for another moment, to support himself more than anything else. Jeremy’s confession had been a big blow. Just the thought of it made him want to tighten his hand once more, squeezing until Jeremy’s his windpipe was crushed.

It couldn’t be true. Still, images attacked his frontal lobe—Embry naked and begging, in Jeremy’s arms, in Jeremy’s bed. Luke shook his head, trying to displace the nauseating thoughts.

“Please, stop,” Embry pleaded again.

He glanced quickly in her direction before bringing his eyes back to Jeremy and loosening his grip. Jeremy tore himself free with a grunt and Luke stepped away.

He turned to Embry, swallowing thickly. “Is it true?” A dull ache formed in his chest as he stared at her, imploring her to say something, anything. He needed her to deny it, but she remained quiet, her pained gaze darting back and forth between him and Jeremy.

And that was all the answer he needed.

The ride home was nearly unbearable. Embry was drowning in Luke’s silence. Dying for just a word, a look, anything to know what was going on in his head. Instead, she settled for watching him, the only clue to his mood the slight jump of the muscle in his cheek as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Her stomach was twisting in knots and her head was spinning, trying to make sense of the events of the night, of Jeremy’s words and accusations. Could it be true? Had she really crawled into Jeremy’s bed and begged him for… anything? And if she had, why would he have kept that from her?

She didn’t have much recollection of that night, but even as drunk as she’d been, she couldn’t believe that she’d done anything more than cuddle with Jeremy. She’d been too distraught over Luke.

Before Luke, she would’ve believed it. Drunken hook-ups were her game. After all she’d been through with Jack, she hadn’t wanted any attachments, hell she didn’t want to remember at all. But not after Luke. Never.

Not helping, Bree.
She shook her head, pushing away painful memories of a different time, a different Embry.

“Luke?”

Silence.

“He’s… I don’t… I didn’t…”

His eyes quickly shot to hers before landing back on the road.

She swallowed hard and tried again. “What I’m trying to say is…” What
was
she trying to say?

She had no memory of that night. Other than leaving for the club and waking up in just a bra and panties with Jeremy beside her. The time in between, the rest of the night, was a blur of dancing and alcohol. That was it.

Defeated, she let out a heavy sigh and leaned her head back against the seat. He would come around. She hoped.

They pulled into the driveway and made their way into Luke’s house. Still silent. After all they’d been through, all they’d overcome, and now they were unraveling once more.

She shrugged out of her coat and walked into the kitchen, fighting for composure as her emotions threatened to spiral out of control.

“I try so hard,” he said quietly behind her.

She turned, nodding, her lips forming a sad smile. “I know you do.”

“Do you know what it was like for me?” he asked, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Having you leave like that?”

Embry shook her head. They’d never really spoken about it. She’d been happy not to revisit her own experience while they’d been apart, and she’d never wanted to push or question him.

“I tore myself up over losing you, Bree.” He took a seat on a stool at the counter.

She stood silently across from him, waiting, knowing he had more to say.

“That night… I came home to find Sydney waiting for me.” He shook his head, seemingly lost in the memory. “It was like a cruel joke, the reason you ran showing up on my doorstep, reminding me of everything I’d just lost.” He let out mirthless laugh. “I turned her away, slammed the door in her face and shut myself in. I didn’t go out drinking… I didn’t do anything. I was afraid I’d do something stupid, something to fuck things up more than I already had. So I sat here,” he said, indicating the stool he was sitting on, “drinking from that bottle of Johnnie Walker you gave me, and trying to figure out how I had fucked up so bad.”

Her heart ached for him, for the loss he felt. And while he’d been sitting at home, thinking he’d lost everything, she had been out partying her pain away.
Way to handle it like an adult, Bree.

“You know what kept me going?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Embry shook her head again.

“You said you needed time. I kept replaying those words over and over in my head, giving myself hope that maybe I hadn’t lost you, maybe you’d come around.”

“And I did.” She smiled slightly.

“You did.” His eyes turned cold. “But now to find out—and from
Jeremy
—that the entire time I sat here, drinking myself into oblivion,
praying
that you’d come back to me, you were in his arms, in his fucking bed.” He shook his head, hard lines of anger forming on his face.

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Why couldn’t she get the damn words out?

He fixed his gaze on her. “So he was lying?”

Embry worried at her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she answered quietly. “I woke up in his bed, in my underwear. He was wrapped around me.” That last part she practically whispered.

Luke cringed, but she was too upset to react. The memories of that morning were crashing into her, intensifying the already sick feeling in her stomach.

“You have to believe me, Luke,” she pleaded. “I had my own room, my own bed. N-nothing happened with Jeremy. When I woke up next to him that one morning… I was a mess. I thought I’d made a mistake, drank too much and slept with him—” She stopped herself abruptly. She didn’t need to dig herself a deeper hole. It sounded bad no matter how she explained it, and she saw it all over Luke’s face—anger and pain warring in his eyes. But he deserved to hear the truth.

The tips of his ears were beginning to turn red, a sure sign anger was winning. “How could you?” he asked, scary quiet.

For some reason, those words, that question, set her off. “How could
I
? You broke us! Broke me!” she cried. “I was lonely. I missed you so much, I ached for you. But how could I come back to this?” She waved her hand around wildly.

He stood from the stool, glaring down at her. “If you’re going to move past it, Bree, then move the fuck past it. Throwing my mistakes in my face to justify your actions… I thought we were beyond that.” He turned and stomped back toward the front door.

She followed him, her hands fisting at her sides, trying to maintain some self-control. “That’s not what I’m doing, Luke. You asked and I told you. I didn’t go out drinking and fall into bed with some stranger for a sloppy hook up! I was lonely in the middle of the night and asked a friend to come sleep next to me.”

He whirled around, his eyes intense and burning. “I’ve been trying so hard to show you how much I love you. To make up for all the hurt I’ve caused. And I’m still fucking terrified it’ll never be enough. I was killing myself over hurting you, and the entire time you were finding comfort in someone else.”

“Luke, I—”

“What if it was me, Bree?” His blue eyes pled with her. “Imagine what you’d feel if it was me in someone else’s bed.”

He shook his head, the muscle in his jaw jumping again before he yanked the front door open.

“Luke, no. Where are you going?”

“For a drive,” he said icily. “I need space.”

With that, he disappeared. The door slammed behind him, and a moment later she heard the low growl of the engine turning over, saw the flash of headlights shining through the window as he pulled out of the driveway.

Sadness swept over her. She couldn’t believe how quickly the night had turned to shit. Pushing it all away, she let numbness take its place. No more tears to cry. No more feelings to feel. It was all too much.

Grabbing her coat and purse, she quickly realized she didn’t have her car.
Shit
.
She considered calling a cab, leaving and giving Luke the space he needed, but she couldn’t bear the thought of having to spend the night alone in her apartment, knowing she’d left things unresolved. Deciding to stay, she set her coat and purse back down before trudging up the stairs, pulling off her clothes and sliding into Luke’s bed.

She lay awake and alone, staring into the dark. It’d been over an hour and he still hadn’t come home. She considered texting or calling, but he had asked for space and she’d give it. After all, he’d given her plenty when she’d needed it.

As she replayed the events of the night in her head, her stomach began to knot all over again. She was still in shock over Jeremy’s revelation, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that she’d thrown herself at him. Even if she had though, nothing had actually happened. That she was sure of.

Although in Luke’s book, he was probably just as upset that she’d found comfort in Jeremy at all. She’d spent the night snuggled in his arms, desperate to fight off the loneliness of losing Luke. And the fact that she’d woken up in her underwear, believing that she’d slept with him, well… it sounded bad… it
was
bad. And Luke was right, if the tables were turned, she’d be reacting the same way.

Shaking the thoughts away, she rolled over, punching her pillow and trying to get comfortable. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day.
Great
. Their first V-day together, and it would be spent hashing out all of this bullshit. They could never win.

Shutting her eyes, she pushed away the thoughts plaguing her. She’d just begun to doze off when she heard the beep of the alarm and Luke entering the house. She listened to his quiet steps on the tile floor of the foyer, making his way up the stairs and across the landing. Then the bedroom door opened and she wanted so badly to jump out of bed, fling herself into his arms and apologize profusely for everything. Instead she lay in bed, wondering which Luke she’d get.

Was he still hurt? Angry? Or had he calmed down?

She took quiet, shallow breaths and pretended to be asleep while listening to his movements—walking in and out of the closet, the water running as he brushed his teeth, feet padding toward his side of the bed. She held her breath as the sheets rustled, the mattress shifting as he crawled into bed beside her.

She was curled up on her side, facing away from him, the covers tucked tightly around her. Cool air bathed her bare skin as he lifted the sheets so that he could move closer, his naked body, solid and warm, wrapping around her.

“I’m sorry I left, baby.” His breath tickled her ear. “I just needed time to cool down.”

“Are you still angry?” she asked, her voice shy.