Hornet's Nest (12 page)

I couldn’t help but laugh as I stepped inside of the bar, and he followed behind me laughing right along. I turned to look for an open table and my chest clenched, my heart plummeting to the floor. Lance stood in the back corner, cradling some blonde’s face. He was ripping my heart out of my chest and stomping on it. I thought the pain hurt from the last go round, but this… this was a pain I had never felt. Ice water ran through my veins as my hands shook uncontrollably. A heavy pressure sat on my chest and I gasped for air. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I wanted to vomit.

Lance pulled the blonde into his arms and she hugged back just as tight. My sight blurred as I grabbed Josh’s arm.

“Katherine, are you okay?”

I turned my head up to face him.

“Katherine. You’re pale. Are you okay?” He grabbed my arms, holding me up.

“Take me home, please, Josh. Take me home.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me outside to a nearby cab. After helping me in, he ran to the other side and hopped in beside me. The cab took off to wherever Josh directed him. I wasn’t listening. The only thing I could register was the hole in my chest.

Lance had played me again.

SHOCK. I WAS in a state of shock. I tried to understand what I saw. I tried to find any excuse. Did he have a sister? Was that his cousin? I just kept sleeping with the guy and I didn’t even know who he was. Different reasons buzzed through my head, but I didn’t think there was any excuse for what I saw. I was in his arms not seven hours before I walked into that goddamn bar, and those same arms were wrapped around someone else.

What. The. Fuck.

The stupid nag in the back of my brain kept chanting, “I told you so,” while my heart stared at the shattered pieces of itself. I
knew
this was going to happen. I
knew
he was going to play me.

I just had to fall in love with the bastard.

I didn’t know when it happened or how it happened, but it did. There was nothing I could do about it. He made his choice. He chose to be the player I knew he always was.

What was wrong with me?

The ring of the phone pulled me out of my daze. Warmth spread through my chest, settling the ache. I closed my eyes as I reached for my phone. I wanted it to be Lance. I wanted him to be concerned about me not being at work. I glanced at the screen and sighed. It was my mother. My head fell forward as the weight of the world lodged itself between my shoulder blades.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey, are we still on for dinner?”

“I don’t think so Mom. I’m not feeling well.” I tried to mask my depressive state into an ill one. I sat with the phone pressed against my ear. Silence echoed from the other end of the line and I didn’t have the words to fill it.

“He did it again, didn’t he?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you think I know when my own daughter is hurting?”

The breath caught in my throat as my eyes shifted to the phone, breaking away from the same spot of the wall I had been staring at since I got home. I sat in silence. I couldn’t admit she was wrong, because she was right. I was hurting.

“A little over a year ago, you went to Jordan’s wedding, and progressively through the following days and weeks, your natural glow had completely vanished.” She exhaled and continued, “You don’t sound ill. I’ve nursed you back from many of things, even heartbreak, and I know the difference between sickness and heartbreak.”

Drops of water fell onto the hand resting on my lap. I looked down. My eyes blurred with tears. Why did I only cry over him? I sucked in a shaky breath as my chest clenched. I knew this would happen again.

“I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

I nodded, unable to answer and hung up the phone. I shook my head and stood up. I needed to get out of these work clothes, the ones I’d picked out this morning while thinking of him. I didn’t want to think of him anymore. I walked toward my bedroom while shrugging off my blazer and unbuttoned my blouse. I came to a sudden halt as I stared at the bed with its sheets bunched up in the middle, well used. It was the last place where I had been undeniably happy. The way he loved every inch of my body and showed me what I thought was his heart.

“Katherine, look at me.”

I peered into the darkest green eyes filled with lust and maybe a glimmer of hope as his eyes bore back into mine.

“My God, you’re beautiful.”

As I drew into his possession, we both hit our first peak. I barely made a noise, inundated into the oblivion that was Lance.

In those few hours of bliss, I had no worries. After I had succumbed to my desires, I never second guessed myself until I saw his arms around some girl without even a word to me.

“Good night, beautiful.”  He leaned down pressing his lips upon mine as I fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

As the tears streamed down my face, I ripped the sheets off the bed. My chest ached. A sob escaped. I carried the sheets into my hallway and opened the laundry room. I turned the water to hot and poured in the bleach and the detergent. Closing the lid, I leaned against the vibrating machine and rested my head inside my hands.

How could he do this to a woman who was once pregnant with his own child? Wouldn’t that have been grounds to at least pester someone else into bed?

My hands slid down my face and onto my chest as I bent my head back, peering up. I rubbed my chest, trying to get the warmth back inside, but it was no use. I knew only Lance could do that. I also knew he would shove my heart out into the blistering cold just as easily. I shook my head, not bothering to wipe the tears away as I dragged my feet back to my bedroom. I stripped the rest of my clothes, hoping to rid every reminder. Why did I allow a guy to affect me like this?

It wasn’t just any guy, though… it was Lance. He wasn’t just any guy.

I pulled on my favorite pajama pants and a t-shirt as a knock came from the door. I walked down my hallway, through the living room, into the foyer. I pulled open my door. As soon as I saw the worried face of my mother, the tears began to roll again and she pulled me into her loving arms.

“Honey… aw, honey,” she said as she stroked my hair. She pulled back and rested her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go talk it all out.”

“I can’t tell you everything.”

She gently nudged my head up by the chin, looking into my eyes. “Katherine, you’re my daughter. I love you more than life itself. I was in my twenties at one point in time.”

She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and guided me over to the sofa, sitting us down. Grabbing both of my hands, she took them inside hers and drew a deep breath. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

No detail was left unturned. I told her about our first kiss after we found Jordan. I told her about the way he looked at me throughout Jordan and Tom’s wedding, and I told her about the night at the inn. I told her about the weeks with no word.

I told her about her lost grandchild.

I told her how he came to work at my firm, how he used Jordan to win me over again, and about how I fell for it again. I told her about waking up alone with no word from him and about finding him with someone else today.

As emotional as I became, she absorbed it all. I had never cried over any guy except Lance. I had plenty of boyfriends, and a few guys here and there, but I’d never had this. I’d never felt this kind of pain. My mother knew. She cradled my face in her hands, wiping away my tears with her thumbs.

“No love is perfect, honey. Sometimes it’s all one sided, but you need to remember that there are always two sides to the story.”

“Mom, he was hugging another girl without a word to me today,” I protested, pulling my face out of her hands.

She rested her hands over mine and said, “Honey, I’m not trying to give you false hope in the least bit, but honestly, he not only fooled you, he fooled us all.”

“Well, then why did you seem off at the football game?”

“Because I knew he was the one that hurt you a year ago. Although, what if all that he told you before was true, and what if what he’s doing now isn’t what it seems?”

I got up and walked toward the kitchen. After a moment with my thoughts, I turned back to her, and I said, “I can’t give him another chance. What if what he said was all a lie?”

She stood up and came toward me. She looked me straight in the eye and rested her hands on my shoulders, and said, “Then you move on with dignity.”

She wrapped her arms around me as I did to her.

“It’s going to be okay, honey.”

• • •

After my mother left, I walked back into the kitchen and decided I had only one more decision to make this evening. A really important one.

Wine or whiskey?

I decided to get comfy with my new boyfriend, Jack Daniels. I grabbed my trusty old stand-by with a glass full of ice and padded my way over to the sofa to endure a night of sappy love songs. I would allow myself one night and that was all. My eyes glazed over as I shot back a few gulps. Jack wasn’t numbing the pain like I had hoped. Picking up the bottle, I stared at it and mumbled, “You’re not doing a good job, old friend.”

I rested the bottle on the end table and lay back on the sofa to stare at the ceiling. The glass of whiskey hung from my fingertips. I swished it around, the ice clanging against the sides. I stared at the sun’s beams as they glided across my wall. The sun fell behind the buildings as the whiskey became nonexistent. I reached for the bottle as my arm banged the end table behind me. Just as my fingers grazed the neck of the bottle, a knock banged against my door. I dropped my hand. I wasn’t in the mood to see Josh. I had thought he said he would just call. But it’s Josh. Of course, he’d just come over unannounced.

I swung my legs off the sofa and carried the glass with me to the door. I knew I looked like shit, but he would have to deal with it. I didn’t care one bit right now. I tipped my glass back and emptied any remains of whiskey. I rested it on the entrance table as I yanked open the door.

“Hey, beautiful.”

My jaw slacked as I stared into those brilliant green eyes. My heart seized inside my chest, my blood running hot and cold. I huffed and blinked away from his trance. Taking a step back, I slammed the door on his face. My shoulders sagged, but I felt better for doing it. I turned away from the door, back toward my whiskey depression. He knocked again. I rolled my eyes. I knew he would keep knocking, and I didn’t feel like dealing with it. I walked back to the door and opened it.

“Baby, are you okay?” Lance had the nerve to ask.

“Sure,
baby
. I’m just great.”

He pushed against the door, trying to open it. I should have shoved him back out, but I easily let him in. I easily let him into anything it seemed: my door, my heart… my pants. I hated this man I loved so much.
Infuriating
.

I stormed back into the living room and sat down in my chair. He followed me, and stopped in the middle of the room. I’d meet his glance and I’d turn away, but those damn eyes kept pulling me back. He hurt me. He fucking hurt me. I would hear his excuse, and then I’d tell him to go back to the country. This was my damn city, not his.

“Katherine, what’s going on?”

“Oh, so,
now
you want to talk to me.” Fuck. I was drunk. I puffed, looking for my glass. I found it sitting on the entrance table. I shrugged my shoulders and tilted the bottle back for a chug. His forehead wrinkled as he stared.

“Was there ever a time I didn’t want to talk to you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yes, as a matter of fact. There seemed to be a time you didn’t want to talk to me.” I tilted the bottle back for a small sip. It was more for effect at this point. I had had enough of Jack.

“And when would this time have been?” he asked as he sat down next to me. My reflexes kicked in and I scooted away from him. I refused to look into his eyes, knowing they would suck me in every time. I raised the bottle again, but his hand pulled my arm back down. I shrugged out of his grasp, still unable to look at him.

“Katherine, you’re not making any sense. What is going on?”

I slammed down the bottle as I pushed myself off the sofa. I turned around and glared into those emerald eyes. “How is it that you can just sweet talk your way into my pants again?”

“Katherine—”

“How is it that you can say that I amaze you and I’m so beautiful and you’re so happy to be with me and then you just leave?” My erratic hand motions proved that I was officially drunk. He walked toward me, rested his hands on my shoulders and peered into my eyes. As soon as I felt myself melting into his touch, I swatted his hands away and stepped back. I was not going to be drawn in again.