Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (58 page)

Caleb sucked in a harsh breath, his entire face drained of all color.

"Iz—" he started, reaching out in desperation, but I just batted his hand away, backpedalling until we were a more comfortable distance apart.

"No," I shook my head furiously. "You don't get to suddenly start acting like you care just because I came back to town. You had no problem just writing me off before you went to prison and after you got out, it was the same thing. The second I told you I was taking that internship, that was it. You never even
tried
and I'm supposed to just believe you still love me because you say you do?"

Caleb shook his head, his face etched with pain and his eyes glassy with unshed tears. His jaw clenched as he fought for control and reached for me again. This time, Cooper's low growl penetrated the silence and my head snapped to my dog, whose teeth were already bared right at Caleb in a snarl.

"It's alright, Coop," I reassured him from around the island. "I'm okay."

That was really just for Cooper's benefit. I wasn't okay and I had a feeling I wouldn't be for a long time after tonight.

"Iz," Caleb's soft, grief-stricken voice called to me. "I left you alone because I thought that was what you wanted."

"That doesn't change the fact that you fucking abandoned me
twice
," I shot back, pushing down the sobs that threatened to cut through those words.

Caleb's face twisted in agony. "I'm so sorry, Iz. I told you not to wait for me and you had every right to leave when you did. I wasn't going to force you to stay or force myself into your life if that wasn't what you wanted. When you left, I thought we were done and I wanted to respect—"

"Bullshit," I spat back and shoved his hands away from me before he could reach out again. "You have no idea how many nights I cried myself to sleep over you, how many fucking panic attacks I've had just from
thinking
about you, how many hours of therapy I've been spent trying to wipe you and everything that happened to us out of my head, how many times I've walked around the city looking for you, hoping you'd..."

I trailed off, unable to find the words to tell him that even now, how many years later, when I knew he wasn't coming, when I knew I wouldn't see him anywhere, I still looked for him every single day.

"And you know the worst thing about it all was that when you went to prison," I pushed through my tears, "I had to deal with all of it on my own. The baby...losing her and losing you at the same time, I don't know how I survived it. I needed you, even if it meant just seeing you once a week. You were my best friend, Caleb, and I fucking
needed
you. But you didn't really want to hear any of that, did you?"

"Yeah," he nodded tightly and swallowed hard. "I did. I needed to hear that."

"It doesn't matter," I shook my head as more tears streamed down my cheeks. "Sometimes I wish it did, but it just doesn't."

We could play the what if game for the rest of the night and that still wouldn't change the fact that there was just too much tormented history between us for this to go further. When there was so much pain leftover from years of bitterness, anger, disappointment, and heartache, where could we possibly go from here?

"You should leave now," I whispered, my eyes falling on Cooper, who was still seated stoically at my feet with his eyes focused on Caleb, waiting to pounce at a moment's notice. "If you really think someone needs to be here tonight, it's fine if you want to send Saul or anyone else, but I really don't want you here right now."

"Iz," he pleaded, gripping my hands and refusing to let go when I tried to struggle free of him. "Don't shut me out now. We can figure this out. Please, Iz. Just let me try."

"It's too late," I lifted my shoulders in defeat and stared down at the tiled floor.

"No, it's not," Caleb told me firmly, resolve creeping into his voice. "I know I've screwed up more than I can even wrap my head around right now, but I'm never gonna make those mistakes again. Whatever you need, however long you need, I'll wait. I'm never gonna abandon you again."

"I wish I could believe you," I whispered and stared down at our hands. "But the fact is I just don't trust you anymore. I mean, yeah, I'd trust you with my life if push came to shove, but everything else? I've worked so hard to try to find some sort of normalcy again and I just can't risk it. Everything in our history is telling me this isn't going to work. It didn't work the first time and it's not going to work now. I don't think I'd survive having to go through all that again...I can't."

His jaw clenched tightly and he squeezed my hands one time before letting them go with a sharp nod. Before I had a chance to respond, his hands closed around my face to press a hard kiss into my lips.

"I gave up on us once before," Caleb told me as that resolve, that confidence I knew so well bursting through all the pain and heartache I'd just caused both of us. "I didn't fight for you like I should've and I honestly didn't think I deserved to keep you in my life. But that was a long time ago, Iz, and I'm not gonna make the same mistakes twice. Do whatever you need to do, but I'm not giving up."

He leaned forward to press one more hard kiss onto my lips, filled with all the promises he'd just made.
 

"I love you," he murmured against my lips and leaned back to look me square in the eye. "And I know you love me too."

Then he stalked toward the front door, pulled it open as he threw me that confident, almost cocky, crooked grin that had haunted both my dreams and my nightmares over his shoulder. And then he stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him, leaving me stunned, motionless, and completely speechless in his wake.

Isabelle

When I got up in the morning, I just went about my normal routine as usual. As far as I was concerned, I had bigger issues right now, like making my dad breakfast and picking up his new meds from the pharmacy. His ER doctors sent us home with slightly adjusted prescriptions to help manage his pain and keep him comfortable, so getting that taken care of was right on the top of my list today.

I wouldn't spend any time playing what happened with Caleb over and over again in my mind, which was exactly what I did all night. Tossing and turning, sketching on any paper surface I could find in my room like a madwoman, pacing the floor—it was a little scary. No panic attacks though, so I guess there had to be a silver lining somewhere.

Just as I was in the middle of piling some eggs onto both my dad's and Trent's plates, I jumped at the doorbell. My heart just about leapt out of my chest. He wouldn't really be that stupid, would he? What part of
go away
did he not understand?

When Trent showed up last night about 20 minutes after Caleb left, I'd been suspicious. Not necessarily that he'd sent someone to keep an eye on the house. Even I knew that was still a necessity for the time being, but it was
who
he'd sent that waved some red flags.

Trent was a little rough around the edges, but polite, quiet, and dutifully did the job Caleb asked him to do. He just wasn't Saul. I'd fully expected Caleb's right-hand man to show up last night and when he didn't, when Trent parked in the driveway instead, I knew there had to be some sort of ulterior motive. Some sort of plan that would just piss me off even more.

"Ah," Trent mumbled through his mouthful of eggs. "That's gotta be my replacement for the day."

"Oh," I smiled back innocently. "Are you coming back later tonight?"

He shifted in his chair, his lips pulling apart in an awkward wince, and finally rubbed his free hand on his jeans, telling me pretty much everything I needed to know.

"Uh," he stammered a little, as if I didn't already know the answer. "That's not the plan, as far as I know."

"So what
is
the plan, Trent?"

He winced a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't you, uh, think you should open the door?"

Oh hell, why did I even bother? This was the same guy who'd chased me through the yard to try to stop me from getting into that cab two days ago. Even if he hadn't been sworn to silence, his loyalty to Caleb pretty much solidified it.

I unceremoniously plopped the pan down on the table and stalked toward the front door with Cooper right behind me.

Low and behold, Saul stood at the door with a broad, if not slightly sheepish, grin on his face. My eyes flew to the shoebox in his hands with a pile of notebooks resting on top of it and my stomach dropped down at least 10 stories. Somewhere, deep down, I knew exactly what this meant without Saul needing to even utter a word.

He did anyway.

"Hey, Isabelle," Saul started easily. "I'm here to take over for Trent, but I guess you probably already figured that, huh?"

I nodded numbly and when he held the shoebox and all those notebooks out to me, reflex had my arms moving forward to take them from him. My gaze stood frozen on the box in my hands and I hardly even looked up when Saul pulled an envelope with just the word
Iz
scribbled on it from his back pocket.

"He said you're supposed to read that first," he nodded to the envelope as he set it on top of the pile, "and then you can read the rest of it in any order you want. When you're ready."

When you're ready.

Right.

Well, Caleb was nothing if not resourceful.

I blew out a deep sigh and stiffly moved aside so Saul could walk through the doorway. He never bothered to turn back to check on me as he ambled into the kitchen. I lingered by the front door, swaying a little from the emotional weight of what was in my hands.

When I heard Saul say, "Hey, breakfast looks pretty good," and my dad's muffled voice telling him to have a seat, I turned on my heel and slowly, painstakingly climbed the stairs until I pushed through my old bedroom door. I set the bundle in my hands down on my bed carefully, as if his letters and notebooks were fragile, as if they were precious somehow, and I guess that's exactly what they were.

I stared at them, my chest heaving in and out with my hands on my hips before I lunged forward and snatched the letter off the top. My fingers traced my name and I could almost see him hunched over, scribbling my name on the envelope in those familiar chicken scratches. Before I could stop myself, my thumb slid underneath the seal, tearing through it without even a second thought.

Then I hit the brakes.

I just wasn't ready.

Not yet,
a quiet voice whispered.

The half-opened envelope floated back down to the pile of notebooks and a half-second later, I backpedalled out of my room, practically flying down the stairs to put as much space between myself and that pile on my bed as possible.

I found my dad and Saul sitting at the table, happily eating their eggs and chatting about the logistics of some football play from a game last night. They paused when I stood in front of the table with my shaky hands clenched around my purse. Cooper, who'd been especially attentive to my dad ever since we came home from the hospital last night, lifted his head from my dad's thigh to cast me a wary glance.

"I, uh, just remembered I need to get to the pharmacy to pick up those new prescriptions," I told Saul breathlessly. He'd have to be my escort, of course, because going anywhere by myself wasn't a good idea for too many reasons right now.

I just needed to get out of this house and more importantly, away from that shoebox of letters and pile of notebooks. The walls were closing in on me here and the sooner I could get out, the sooner I could finally breathe again. So, as soon as the fresh morning air hit my lungs, I inhaled deeply, finally feeling a little more in control. Saul met me at his truck just a few moments later and then we were off down the street toward the pharmacy.

"Thanks for driving me," I murmured quietly from the passenger seat.

Saul just lifted a shoulder. "Ah, it's no big deal. Didn't have anything else going on today, you know?"

"Sure," I cast him a sideways glance out of the corner of my eye. "I have to say, though, I kinda expected someone else at the door this morning."

I had a sinking feeling he'd misinterpreted because he shot me a wide, knowing grin that was starting to look a little too familiar.

"I think the boss is just tryin' to give you some space right now."

I blew out a deep breath and turned my head to stare out the window.
Right now. When you're ready. Not yet...

"Hey," Saul called out to me again. "Did Caleb ever tell you why I was in prison?"

My head snapped to turn to him. Well,
that
wasn't what I'd expected him to say and all I could really do was shake my head.

"Hm," he nodded. "That's what I thought. I figured he'd keep that to himself. Vehicular manslaughter."

"What?" It just slipped out before I could stop myself.

He smiled sadly and turned his eyes back to the road. "I was in for 10 years."

I had nothing.

"A long time ago, back when you were probably just a little girl, I used to go out every night to any bar I could find, it didn't matter where it was or if anyone was with, I still went. Now that I look back on the whole thing, it's so stupid, you know? I was stressed from work, which, I have to admit was pretty damn stressful when you're working 60 hours weeks for someone else and not all that happy doing it. If you're wondering, I used to be an accountant for an IT firm in Raleigh. Anyway, the point is, the reasons why I drank as much as I did were stupid and unnecessary and weak and reckless. All I knew was that for a little bit, I felt better and that was all that really mattered."