Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (57 page)

"They want to keep an eye on his vitals and help keep him comfortable," I murmured and squeezed my eyes shut.

Caleb blew out a slow breath and nodded tightly, squeezing my shoulder in an effort to give me that little bit of comfort I needed. It wasn't enough. I didn't want to face it, didn't want to accept that my time with my dad had a real, tangible expiration limit and that he was racing toward the expiration limit at breakneck speed.

"Isabelle," my dad called out to me again. "I just want to go home. There's nothing they can really do for me here anyway."

He was right. I knew that. I just didn't want to believe it. And as my eyes found my dad, sitting on his hospital bed with tubes and machines attached to him, looking so miserable, so weary, and so, so unhappy here, the choice was simple. It had never really been my choice to begin with.

"Alright, Dad," I relented with a heavy sigh. "Let's get you home."

After that, the process was fairly easy. Some paperwork and forms to sign. Prescriptions for higher doses of pain meds to fill. A few instructions from the ER doctors in case we needed to come back anytime soon. The whole time, Caleb stood by my side, giving me that quiet strength I needed to get through this and through it all, I found myself inching further and further away from him.

Every time I stepped away, he moved closer. Every time I leaned back, he leaned forward. As if he could sense me pulling away, as if he could feel those walls sliding back into place. He never faltered. He never backed away. He just stayed right next to me with his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to acknowledge his presence.
 

It wasn't until we got back to the house, settled my dad into his bed, and shut the door behind us that I finally felt myself slipping. Panic was inevitable. Fear had me by the throat and it wasn't just because my dad was sleeping in his bed waiting to die. My eyes flitted shut as those familiar sensations flooded through me, shooting all the way down to my toes. My fingertips tingled. My throat felt like sandpaper. My chest cranked tighter and tighter, winding up into an air-tight vice.

"Iz," Caleb murmured as he pivoted in front of me, approaching me slowly with his hands out almost like he would a caged animal. Maybe that's exactly what I was.

He could feel it. Sense the anxiousness and the alarm probably flying off me in waves. I'd finally reached my breaking point and now the inevitable crash was upon us.

"Maybe you should just sit down or something. Take it easy for awhile."

"I'm fine," I shot back a little too harshly. "Just give me some space, okay?"

His eyes widened at my clipped tone and he swallowed hard, but he still didn't move. I couldn't take it anymore and side-stepped around him so I could hustle down the stairs to put more physical distance between us and he was hot on my heels, just like I expected. And so, I whirled around at the bottom of the stairs and set out to help that inevitable crash along.

"I really appreciate you being here tonight, Caleb," I told him tightly. "I think I've got it from here. Just—I don't know, go home, okay? I don't need you here anymore."

His sapphire eyes darkened at my words, but still, I couldn't stop myself from pressing on.

"I mean it. Just go home."

His eyes flashed one more time and then he was advancing on me, stepping into the space I'd tried so hard to shape, and wrapped an arm around my waist to tug me even closer.

"I get it, Iz," he murmured. "You're scared. I get what you're scared of too. I really do. Just don't push me away. Not after—"

"Don't say it," I whispered, my voice trembling at his closeness. I wanted to be even closer. And I didn't. That was the problem.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "What? Not after we slept together last night or not after your dad ended up in the hospital today? Which one is it?"

"Both."

"That's what I thought," he nodded at my honesty and leaned back just enough to give me a little more space. "Let's talk about that, Iz."

I shook my head abruptly and pivoted away from him, but he caught my arm to pull me back again.

"There's nothing to say. Let's not make this a bigger deal than it has to be."

"What are you talking about? This," he gestured in between us, "is a big deal, Iz. And it doesn't have to be this way. All you need to do is talk to me so we can work through it."

I jerked out of his grip and skidded into the kitchen, desperate for some relief I knew I'd never find, not as long as Caleb was still in this house, forcing me to face things I hadn't even been able to admit to my therapist.

Cooper had followed our voices, padding down from my dad's room and didn't stop until he'd positioned himself directly in front of me, careful to keep himself in between Caleb and me. I leaned down to kiss the top of his head and scratched his ears, looking for another distraction that wouldn't last.

"Look, Caleb, I just got caught up in the moment. Both of us did. It didn't really mean anything and it doesn't really matter because when I have this house ready to sell, I'm just going back to New York and you're just going to stay here."

All the color seemed to drain from his face and suddenly, without a moment's notice, everything changed on a dime. It was like all the air had been sucked right out of the room and now, Caleb's features had contorted into a dark, furious mask.

"It doesn't matter?" he snapped. "The fact that I told you I loved you yesterday doesn't matter? The fact that I've
always
loved you doesn't matter? What happened last night doesn't matter? That's bullshit, Iz, and you know it."

"It doesn't matter," I whispered, shaking my head furiously. "We might as well just quit now while we're—"

He advanced on me, groping for my hands to bring me closer to him and force me to stay put. "Look me in the eye, Isabelle, and tell me you don't love me."

There was no escape from this. No way I could lie right to his face. He was daring me to tell the truth, daring me to come to terms with everything I'd spent years pushing away. And so, I gave him that as I shoved out of his grip.
 

"Of course I still love you, you asshole."

Triumph flickered across his face for a brief moment and, for reasons I wasn't quite ready to admit, I sought to squash it.

"I wish I didn't," I whispered hoarsely, watching all the light fade from his eyes with every word. "Everything would be so much easier if I just didn't."

Still, he wasn't deterred and reached for me again. "Iz, listen to me. I know we have a mountain of shit to work through, but that doesn't mean we can't do it."

Shrugging myself free of him, I sidestepped around the island in the kitchen to put more space between us. "Just stop, Caleb. We both know how this ends. We both know this whole mess with Wallace and the club isn't over. And when it starts to get worse than it already is, when
you
decide it's too dangerous, you'll push me away again because you'll just be trying to keep me safe. Because you'll just be trying to protect
me from you and the club and everything else that goes along with it even though you're supposedly done with all that now. And then I'll just be abandoned and left behind again to pick up the pieces, just like the last time."

He flinched as if he'd been physically struck by my words and he shuffled backward in a vain attempt to regain his bearings.

Somewhere, deep down, I knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted it to hurt, I wanted it to sting, and in the end, I wanted him gone. I'd already had so much loss in my life...it was better to just cut him off now before he got even closer, before I got even deeper, and before he could hurt me even more than he had before.

Then I just let it fly.

"I don't know what I was thinking last night," I shook my head bitterly. "Going to a hotel with you? Sleeping with you? I just didn't think about it. I just did it. And I really wish I hadn't. We didn't even use protection. How stupid is that?"

He folded his arms across his chest, staring me down and keeping that hard, impassive mask carefully in place. "What're you saying, Iz?"

"You know exactly what I'm saying," I laughed bitterly. "It's not like I expected you to be celibate. I know I wasn't. And I guess who you've been messing around with wasn't any of my business until last night."

On the inside, I was screaming. Just the thought of him with another woman sent a wave of crazy possessiveness tingling my entire body. Even as I said the words, I knew how wrong they were, how hurtful they were...to throw his past in his face like that, to even suggest that he'd fallen back into old habits when there was absolutely no evidence that was true. It was just a bitchy, low blow and I hated myself for it.

Caleb's face twisted darkly and from the looks of it, I'd hit every bullseye without even trying that hard.

With his face an impassive mask of stone, his jawline rippling with anger, and his fists clenched tightly against the edge of the island, Caleb struck a menacing figure. If I hadn't known better, I might've been a little scared of him.

He exhaled tightly and leaned across the island. "There are a lot of things we need to talk about, Iz, and a lot of things I have to say to you, but I think we should start with what you just said. You know the part about me not being celibate? Let's start there."

Now all I could do was backpedal. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Yeah?" his eyes glowed with frustration. "Well, you did. I can barely count on one hand the number of other women I've been with since you and you wanna know why? Because I don't wanna be with anyone
but
you. And you wanna know something else? I'm not the guy who thinks he can just screw his way through his problems anymore. I've been done with all that shit for a long time and that's because of you. And I don't wanna hear about anyone else you've been with since you left town because just thinking about it makes me sick."

Even if I had the ability to speak right now, I wouldn't have had the balls to tell him that the number of men I'd actually been with since him were few and far between. I hadn't been celibate, just like I said, but that also didn't mean I was happy about it. Not like I'd ever admit that out loud.

"I've never really wanted to be with anyone but you," Caleb went on, his voice rough with determination. "And I'm sorry I waited this long because I didn't want to push you, Iz, but there're so many things we have to talk about. So many things I gotta say."

"It's too late, Caleb," I sighed. "We can't just pick up where we left off and act like everything will be fine. It doesn't work like that."

His face twisted with grief and he tilted his head to the side, like he was in physical pain, as he ventured a cautious step around the island. "The biggest mistake of my life was not listening to you about that goddamn run. You have no idea how much I wish I could take everything back, that I hadn't been such a stubborn, stupid asshole, how much I wish I'd just talked to you about all that money shit instead of trying to figure it out on my own...so many things would've been different for us. There's not a day that goes by that I don't live with that regret, that I don't wish I could do something,
anything
, to take it all back, but I can't."

"You're right," I shrugged nonchalantly despite the tornado of emotions rolling through me. "You can't."

He stalked around the island, refusing to take that as my answer, determined to prove me wrong, and took my face in his hands. "I still love you, Iz. And you still love me, too. We can't just walk away when we can get it right this time."

"Caleb, stop—"

His mouth closed over mine, swallowing my words and some of my resolve in the process, and every movement of his lips burned. Maybe that was what he wanted. Maybe he wanted it to burn, to remind me of what I'd be missing if I really walked away.
 

"I love you, Isabelle," he murmured against my lips.

I pushed roughly against his chest, needing to get away from him, and stumbled backward as I readied to deliver the blow.

"I don't believe you."

Even as the words left my mouth, I hadn't realized just how true they were until they were finally out in the open. That lingering doubt, that mounting panic hadn't been there for no reason. It festered and rotted away at me for years and now that I'd finally spoken my darkest fear out loud, it didn't make me feel any better. I just felt worse.

Stunned and bewildered, Caleb reached for me wide-eyed. "You don't really mean that, Iz."

"Then why did you let me leave?" I shot back, finally asking the burning question that always haunted me. "If you love me so much then why didn't you ask me to stay? Why didn't you ever come to New York?"

His mouth opened and closed on its hinges as he struggled to find the words to answer me. Still, he staggered toward me, reaching for me again and refusing to allow me to put any more distance between us.

"Would it have mattered?" he demanded now.

That was a fair question. Would I have still decided to leave? What really would've happened if he'd shown up in New York to tell me he'd decided to leave the club? I didn't know how to even begin to answer those questions and I wasn't sure if they really mattered anymore.

"You never called," I whispered as the dam opened and all the emotions I'd kept at bay, all the dark thoughts I'd kept bottled up were finally exposed out in the open for better or worse. "You never even texted to make sure I was okay. You just...you just let me leave and then that was it. Like you were glad it was over. Like you were glad to finally be rid of me."