Forbidden (Addicted to You Book 2) (5 page)

I knew that when he’d let Kate walk out. They’d been together since high school and she’d stuck by him through every piece of hell he’d had to walk through. She’d waited each and every time he went to rehab. She’d done it all. I never knew if she was fucking stupid or just loved him that much.

That’s not true. Everyone knew. Kate had thought Kevin hung the fucking moon. She’d have walked on water, or at the least she’d have tried, if Kevin asked her to. She always believed that someday he’d have a reason to stop. Someday her love would be enough to pull him back from the edge. She would be his reason.

She was everything I’d always hoped to find in a woman. Loving, faithful, patient and kind. All of the things I didn’t deserve and would never have. And Kevin had let her go. It was the only time in my life I could remember wanting to walk away from my brother. He’d been handed my dreams on a silver platter and they hadn’t mattered to him.

When she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d left for damn near two weeks. Nobody knew where the hell he’d gone or if he was coming back. To be honest— I worried he was dead somewhere. Either from the meth or from the crowd he’d find while doing it. But Kate believed. She believed he’d be back and all would be okay.

She’d cried a lot, but she’d waited. Just like she always did. The entire time she’d been sure that this would be it. He’d quit. He’d give it up for their family. A baby would be all it took. They could be okay and happy. Kevin would love his kid more than himsel— a task not even she had managed to accomplish.

She was wrong. He came back, but he was strung out and still tweaking. Looked like he hadn’t slept in damn near the entire time he’d been gone. He was angry. Actually, he was Borderline violent. Told her he wasn’t giving up his life for no damned kid he didn’t want. His words were cold and vicious. But they were true. He didn’t want a child. He knew better. It just took drugs, and lots of them, for him to be able to say it.

In tears, Kate had finally accepted that she couldn’t change him. Of course she also knew she couldn’t raise a child with him. He would not be a father. He’d be the addict that shared the house and resented the kid. She had no choice. She packed her things and left. None of us ever heard from her for the most part. Once in a while there’d be communication. But it was distant. Guarded. She didn’t share much. Neither did we. Kevin never heard from her and none of us ever talked about her.

. His use had only gotten worse when she left because, as much as he didn’t want to admit it to anyone, Kate had been the only constant in his entire life. She was all he could count on. Even I wasn’t as reliable and stable as she was. He may not have been able to commit to her— but he needed her. She left him and he crashed.

Most people would look down on him for that. Many did. They thought less of him for admitting he didn’t want a kid. It was like people expected that unplanned pregnancies changed people. Sometimes it was true, but more often than not it wasn’t. I didn’t judge him. I knew the other end. Living with a parent that didn’t want or love you— a parent that was addicted. I knew how it felt. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone else.

Kev wasn’t a bad person. Even in those moments that I hated him, I understood him. Better than anyone else ever could. I was there. I saw what he dealt with. I saw what it did to him. What it did to both of us actually. I couldn’t explain that to someone else. Or try and convince them that underneath he was hurting and angry. Underneath he was terrified he was her. In some ways he was. Rather than try to fight it, he just let himself become it.

One night when he’d been sober a few days, he told me that if Kate left he had no chance with anyone else. He was right. She was about as patient as they could get. And she’d given up. Kevin was always going to be Kevin. And he was going to be that all by himself. He would ensure that.

It was hard to live with him. To love him and watch what he was doing to himself. I alternated between wanting to hug him and wanting to hit him. He was going to kill himself with that shit and I knew it. It scared the hell out of me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. It was like reliving my childhood all over again.

But I was there for him. I had to be. Who else was he going to turn to? Even Aunt Dee had given up on him. No one could take it anymore. Nothing was ever going to change.

He was only a couple years older than I was, but had seen so much more in life. By the time he was out of school, he was too far gone to really help. All I could do was be there. Be the person he could count on. No matter how hard it was for me, or what it cost me. So that is what I did. I owed him that much.

As I lie there thinking about my brother and the bad choices he continued to make, I felt that overwhelming sense of panic again. My chest tightened and I struggled to breathe. Cement blocks seemed to keep me from inhaling as I needed to. Clenching my fists, face dripping with sweat, I tried to get the oxygen I needed.

Something was wrong with Avery. It’d been almost a week since the first night we’d gone to our old apartment and she still wasn’t back in town. At least not that I could tell. If she was, she was lying low. I never saw her at the diner and her car was never at the apartment.

I hadn’t tried her phone again. I was scared to. If it still went to voicemail, I’d have to go hunt her down. If I didn’t know, then I could still pretend she was out of the state and would be back soon. But inside I didn’t believe it. Either something was wrong or…..I couldn’t stomach the alternatives.

There was a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. One that said something was bad. One that said she was in trouble. I wanted to go save her. I needed to take care of her. But I had no choice. There was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t even know where the fuck she was. I couldn’t possibly find her. That left me no choice but to sit and wait until she came home. The problem was she wasn’t coming home. At least not that I could tell.

I heard Kevin moving around in the other room and wished like hell he’d use that energy to clean. I was tired of picking everything up all the time. But I couldn’t live in his hell hole and have it messy, so I had no choice. Between working all day and cleaning all night, I stayed exhausted. I kept hoping that it would keep my mind off of her. But even in exhaustion I could see her face. Hear her voice. Miss her with everything inside of me. Love her unconditionally. I could also be terrified that she’d disappeared.

Of course being tired didn’t help. There was too much around me that brought her to my mind. Coconut reminded me of the smell of her hair as I lie in the bed, her pressed against me and wrapped in my arms. I would hear one of those silly puns she liked so much and I could imagine the sound of her giggling uncontrollably as she repeated it to me, somehow messing up the punchline every single time. I’d close my eyes and she’d be there, smiling and saying ‘shut up Spencer!’ and smacking me because I’d been teasing her. She was everywhere I went because she lived inside of me.

Everything everywhere screamed Avery and she wasn’t physically there. She might never be there again. She might never want to be there again.
For all I knew, she was lying next to someone else,
sighing quietly and hoping that he loved her half as much as she loved him. And he would know that he loved her more.

My mind kept debating on whether I should go to the apartment or not. I wanted to drive over and see if she was there. Make sure she was alive and okay. In reality, I wanted to make sure she was alone, not quite sure what I’d do if she wasn’t.

But I didn’t go. My eyes were getting heavy again and I really did need to sleep. As both sides of the argument battled silently, I couldn’t help but smile. It’d been a while, but it was a familiar battle. To go to Avery, or to stay away.

Chapter 4

‘What the fuck do I wear?’ The mirror failed to answer my question and left me standing in the middle of my room, feeling like an idiot.

Truth was, I wanted to just cancel the idea. I wanted to stay home, turn on a ball game, have a beer, and try and forget Avery Bradfield. Correction, I needed to try and forget Avery Bradfield. I didn’t want to forget a damn thing. That’s the part that terrified me.

I couldn’t. No matter how much I told myself I needed to walk away from this, I just couldn’t. I had to keep going. I had to remember. I had to be there.

I’d called her the night I’d met her. I told myself I had to. If I didn’t, she’d sit there and convince herself that I wasn’t going to call. She’d decide that it was because her friend was better. I couldn’t have that. She’d feel bad. So I’d called her because I had to. Not because I felt the need to do it. Not because I longed to talk to her. It was for her. At least that’s what I told myself when I did it.

The sound of her voice when she’d realized it was me— I knew she was smiling. That made me smile. Hearing the happiness when she said hi— it made me happy. It felt right. It felt like what I needed to do. What I was born to do. The only thing I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing. Yet it terrified me. Because in the end, it was also what I was most afraid of. It was the one thing I knew without a doubt I didn’t need to be doing. Because even if I said I would, I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life making her happy.

Once I’d talked to her and she realized I had kept my word, I should have hung up. I had achieved my goal. I had shown her that I meant what I said. She knew that there was nothing wrong with her. I’d made her smile. That was all that I’d intended to do. It was all I needed to do. That’s what I tried to tell myself. I just wasn’t very easily convinced. Because I knew better. I might try to deny it, but I damn well knew it.

In my head I knew that I could get off of the phone with her. I could go on with my life. She could smile knowing that the guy she didn’t think would call her actually did. She could live in the moment of understanding that there was something about her worth more value than she gave herself. I could leave her be. Walk away. Stop this from going any further than it already had, which was further than it ever should have. I tried to tell myself that one too.

Until I heard myself ask her out. I wanted to take her somewhere fun. Do something she’d never done. Give her something she had never had. I argued with myself again, trying to convince my own mind that this was all for her. None of it was for me. I was treating her to something special. Then I would leave. That’s what I told myself.

She had said that she never really dated. No one ever really asked her out. I wanted to be the one to give her that chance. I wanted her to smile because someone wanted to spend the evening with her and not her blond friend. I had methodically and strategically planned to give her a special evening just to help boost her ego and make her feel important. Yep, that’s what I kept telling myself.

No, I argued. It was not that I’d asked without even thinking about the words. I wasn’t really smiling just from the sound of her voice. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was afraid to hang up, thinking I’d never have a reason to call again. I didn’t panic at the thought of losing a woman that I didn’t even really have. One that I didn’t need. One that I shouldn’t want. None of that was why I had asked her out. It was just for her. A treat. Something she’s never had. She’d probably say no anyway. That’s what would happen. I knew it.

Then I heard her say yes. She didn’t just say it. She almost squealed it. She was excited. Shocked, but completely thrilled. When the words had first come out, I’d almost taken them back. But her reactio— God — The surprise in her voice. The excitement. The utter happiness. There was no way I could change my mind. In that moment something in me changed. But I didn’t want to think of that. So I told myself again it was all for her.

Most people had a date and they got nervous. I fucking panicked. Not because I thought she wouldn’t like me. Not because I thought I wouldn’t like her. I already knew how I felt about Avery Bradfield. I didn’t understand it. I certainly didn’t like it. But I damn well knew.

My problem was fear of what would happen. It was in my blood. Panic, fear and escape. It happened with all of us. Every single time. Jamie had been as close as I’d gotten to love and I’d tucked my tail between my legs and ran away. She may have left me officially— but I had been long gone before that.

I’d hurt her. I’d destroy her. Just like I always did. Even if I didn’t, I’d change her. She’d no longer be the simple, real and naive Avery. She’d be hardened. Jaded. Being with me would show her that the world wasn’t innocent. That people were vicious. That life was painful. I never wanted her to know that. So I tried like hell to convince myself that it wasn’t me. I wasn’t going out with her for me. I was making her happy. Giving her something special. And when it was done, it would be done.

Once we were at dinner, I could no longer lie to myself. It wasn’t just for her. It was for me too. All through dinner I felt the most relaxed I’d ever felt with a woman. Even the time with Jamie had never felt so comfortable. So right. Something about Avery was different.