Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3) (14 page)

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised, shutting my car door and stepping away so I could leave.

My hands shook the entire way home as my stomach did summersaults. I tried to pray, but couldn’t seem to hear God’s voice over my own. Maybe I didn’t want to hear God’s voice. We’d had this conversation before, and I clearly remember Him telling me, “no” when it came to Jonathan. Had God changed his mind? Had he given me the desires of my heart or was I running full speed ahead again? Ugh! I just wanted someone to tell me what to do!

My confusion soon turned into frustration as I slammed my car door closed. Jake’s Mercedes was in his parking spot and part of me hoped he had already gone to bed. He was the last person I wanted to deal with tonight. I was way too irritable to deal with his brooding.

Noting the silence in the condo, I slowly tiptoed through the dark room.

“Hey.” Jake’s voice came out of nowhere and made me jump as I turned to see him sitting alone. I could barely make out his silhouette, but could tell he held something up to his face.

“My goodness, Jake, you scared me half to death. Why are you sitting in the dark?” I reached over to turn on the lamp closest to me. One look at his battered and bloody face, and all the confusion and chaos of the evening slipped away. I heard myself gasp as I ran over to him. “What happened?”

He tried to turn away from me, but I wouldn’t let him. Pushing away the nasty steak he was using, I got an even clearer picture of the damage. Not only was his lip cut and swollen, but his left eye was barely open with black and blue reaching down his cheekbone. Anger, concern, fear, they all circled my stomach causing a surge of emotion I was less than
prepared for. Pushing my feelings down, I focused instead on fixing.  

“Jake, you watch too man
y movies,” I scolded, taking the steak out of his hand. “Raw meat on an open sore is like begging for an infection. Besides, this was supposed to be our dinner tomorrow.” I tried to bring some humor in my voice so that he couldn’t see how much my hands were shaking as I grabbed an icepack from the freezer.

Jake remained eerily quiet as I wrapped a thin towel around the pack and placed it gently back to his eye. His good eye held mine for a brief second before I turned to set the timer on my watch. “You need to keep this on for fifteen minutes and then continue to do fifteen-minute increments every hour. You also need to stay awake for at least two more hours. Have you thrown up at all?”

Somehow through his mashed up lip, I saw Jake grin. “When did you learn so much about black eyes, oh Nurse Naomi?”

“Ha ha,” I deflected as I moved up the ice pack that he had let slip. “I told you Alex is a fighter. My mom can’t stomach it, so I’m usually the one fixing his face. The need you guys have to hit each other is beyond me.”

Jake reached out and twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked softly, making me suddenly aware of how close we were sitting. Inches apart, there seemed to be electricity moving between us.

Jittery and needing some air, I moved to the chair opposite of him and settled in with my legs pulled up. When I was sure my voice was steady, I answered him. “I’m not really sure. We didn’t really do anything I consider ‘fun,’ but it was certainly an interesting evening. I’d ask you the same question, but I have a feeling I already know the answer.”

Jake chuckled and then cringed in pain. “See, you should have gone with me to The Arcade and then both of us would have had fun,” he forced out through his obvious agony.

I leaned my head back as I processed how true those words were. “Yes, but then I’d be moving out tomorrow because Jonathan would be calling my parents as we speak.”

“You still haven’t told them the truth? Why?”

I stared at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? Jake, my brothers went to Claremont High School. Even my mom knows about your ‘reputation,’” I explained, using air quotes for the full effect. “No way they would be comfortable with me living here with you. In fact, if they had any clue how much you slept on our couch my freshman year, they would have moved me out of there too!”

All the humor left Jake’s face as he stared at me. “So I’m the big, bad wolf, huh? Is that how you see me too? Some man whore who can’t be trusted around a beautiful woman? You think I let you stay here so I could get in your pants, Naomi? Is that it?”

I could hear the hurt in his voice, allowing me to forgive his crass words. “No, of course not,” I replied calmly. “I’ve had the privilege of seeing a different side of you, Jake, but they haven’t. We are judged by our actions. I’m sorry if that fact bothers you, and I wish the world was more forgiving. But if you want others to see you like I do, then you’re going to have to stop doing things that got you that reputation in the first place.”

“Stop? You don’t think I’ve already done that? Have you any idea how long it’s been since I’ve touched a woman?” Jake’s head fell back on the couch in disgust. “And I bet your family just
loves
Jonathan, don’t they? Well, I’ll have you know I’m not the only one who had a bit of a reputation at Clairmont. Your boy made his rounds too,” Jake spit out.

“
Enough,” I barked, trying to hide how much his words cut me. “Attacking Jonathan isn’t going to make you feel better about yourself. You want people to look at you differently? Well then, be different! A few weeks of ‘good’ behavior doesn’t mean anything if your heart is still the same.” I stood in frustration and grabbed my purse. “You have six minutes left.”

Tears threatened as I stormed off to my room, slamming the door with force. There was that fire again. It took less than ten minutes for Jake to get under my skin. I shook my head in disgust and headed to the bathtub for a much needed escape.

1
5. INNER DEMONS

JAKE

It took three days, and multiple ice packs, for my face to heal and look somewhat normal again. My friendship with Naomi, however, took much more work to repair. She was still angry with me the next day, and only after multiple apologies and a bouquet of flowers did I finally get a smile on her face.

I knew what I had said about Jonathan was cruel and, honestly, a little exaggerated. Oh sure, I looked him up after Naomi had told me about their kissing fiasco, and remembered him as soon as I saw his picture in the Clairmont yearbook. I wasn’t that far off when I said he had a reputation, but it wasn’t for sleeping around. It was worse, in my opinion. He was a stuck up, pompous jerk, from what I could remember. The type who looked down on people, snubbing anyone who didn’t fit into his preppy, polo world. While popular and at every party I attended, I never once heard a positive word said about the guy. He certainly didn’t reflect the image Naomi painted of the “perfect mate.” 

I gritted my teeth as I finished loading the dishwasher. Naomi stayed at school longer and longer each day, and while she hadn’t said anything, I was sure she was hanging out with him. The thought made me ill, but I bit my tongue, refusing to cause an even bigger rift.

I looked over at her studying on the couch. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her glasses had reemerged. Her Winsor t-shirt hung loosely on her shoulders and she bit her pen as she concentrated on her book.
Absolutely stunning
, I mused and had to quickly concentrate on something else in the room because my thoughts were turning dangerous. Taking Naomi to bed in my mind wasn’t an option, and I needed to get a grip.

Taking a breath and slamming the dishwasher closed, I headed to my bedroom to calm down. Maybe it was time to get out and meet a woman who did more than scold me on a regular basis. I could be worshiped, yet here I was doing dishes. Ridiculous.

“I’m almost done if you want to watch TV,” Naomi called when I passed behind the couch, my face still etched in a frown.

“That’s okay,” I growled, refusing to look at her again. When had glasses become so sexy?

She watched as I picked up my bag and keys. “You’re leaving?”

“Grant left this morning, and I need to go stay with Issy. He’s already called me twice for crying out loud.” More irritation shot through me, but I pushed it back. At least I’d get to enjoy three entire days with Issy without Grant around. I had avoided both of them earlier in the week, not wanting all the questions my bruised fac
e would bring. When the timing was right, I would tell Issy that Robbie was trying to set up Grant. Until then, I would stall, maybe even feed Robbie incorrect information.

Luckily, I hadn’t had to do either at this point. Robbie had all but disappeared, but his words still hung in the air around me.
I’ll be in touch
.
Like hell, he would
, I thought bitterly. I was done with that guy, and I’d certainly be smarter than to turn my back on him like I did last time. That’s the kind of mistake you only make once.

I realized Naomi was watching me, and snapped out of my head, leaning over the couch next to her. Resting my chin on my arms, I situated myself so that my breath would tickle her ear. I almost immediately regretted the closeness as her honeysuckle smell penetrated my senses. “I’m going to be scarce for a few days. You gonna miss me?”

She shifted in her seat, the action only making our faces closer. “Like a splinter in my foot.” Humor danced in her eyes, captivating me. Her skin was freshly washed and glowing, like a beacon begging me to touch it.

I had to physically push myself off the couch before I once again crossed that invisible line she drew in the sand. “Well, you know how to reach me if you need anything.”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine, Jake. I’m a big girl.”

I had no doubt she would be, but still hated leaving her alone. I would have felt better knowing David would be around, but he seemed to be gone more than he was home. At least I knew Naomi wouldn’t be alone overnight.

“All the same, I’ll swing by tomorrow. Maybe I’ll bring Issy for dinner. She’ll probably die of take out food any day now.”

“That would be great!” she exclaimed, sitting up in her seat. “I’ll plan something y’all will love.”

I watched as she mentally searched recipes in her mind. Smart, sexy, kind, and completely off limits.

This was my own personal form of hell, I decided as I made my way to the car. I slammed the door in frustration and turned the music on to an ear deafening rock. I tried to co
nvince myself that all of this was because I hadn’t been with a girl in weeks, but deep down I knew better.

The last time I had felt this way was with Avery. I thought back to her words, “You only seem to want me until you have me.” Maybe Avery had been right about me. Maybe, it was the same with Naomi. I only truly desired her because she was the one girl I couldn’t have.  Convinced I now had an excuse for my crazy attraction towards Naomi, I parked the car and strolled toward Issy’s building.

The guard buzzed me through, and I was grateful to see it was a different guy than the one who usually greeted me with a frown. The elevator ticked away as it climbed until the doors opened at my destination.

Issy’s squeal immediately made me laugh as I grabbed my overnight bag. “Finally, you’re here! I was driving Grant crazy.” She bounced on her knees, the lip loveseat screeching in protest as she held up two different DVD’s. “Comedy or Drama?”

“You know the answer to that one,” I replied setting down my bag by the elevator. The absence of Grant felt like a breath of fresh air, and for the first time in weeks, I could see the old Issy in front of me.

“Comedy it is.” She jumped off the couch to hug me before running over to the DVD player, stopping for just a second to look back. “Thanks again for staying with me,” she offered, her tone getting serious.

“Issy, I’m always here for you. You know that,” I reminded her, once again pushing down my frustration. She never used to have to thank me for staying. It was always assumed.

Her serious stare turned into a smile as she put the movie in and headed to the kitchen. “Popcorn?”

“Of course,” I answered, taking my seat. The awkwardness pressed, but I forced it away. For tonight, at least, I could pretend that this last year never happened.

Disorientation consumed me as I awoke in the small
guest room the next day, but soon remembered where I was. Stretching my legs and back, I went to the shower to contemplate the next few hours. I had my first counseling appointment this morning and the word “dread” didn’t even begin to cover my feelings. Nightmares of a wiry man in glasses trying to shrink my brain consumed my thoughts as I finished getting ready. 

Issy poured us both some coffee when I finally emerged. Her hair was a wild mess and she looked dead to the world. The image reassured me since it b
rought home a familiarity I hadn’t had in a while.

“Morning sunshine,” I teased as I took the cup she offered.

“How is it possible that you got the morning person gene when I truly don’t believe my brain functions until at least ten o’clock?” She dramatically pushed hair out of her face.

“Sweetheart, I got all the good genes, what are you talking about?” I kidded, sipping the brew. Sh
e had made my coffee exactly how I liked it, another familiarity.

“Whatever, Jake. So, where are you off to so early?”

“My mandatory ‘waste of time’ starts today. What about you?”

Issy turned quickly and seemed to find something to occupy her hands. “I have an appointment with a friend this morning. Then lunch and so forth. You know the usual girl stuff.”

I could tell she was deflecting. “Who?”

“No one you know,” she answered, waving her hand. “Grant has me scheduled out this whole week so I wont be alone. He’s not dealing too well with me being here. He thinks I’m vulnerable. Says he has a sick feeling in his gut.”

Once again the hand of Grant reached everywhere even when he wasn’t around. Issy had survived twenty years without his interference. “What? Is he scared that if you spend too much time alone you will realize that you were manipulated into this world? Are you seriously going to stay with that guy for the rest of your life?” I felt the heat start in my gut. Great, just what I needed before seeing an anger management counselor.

Issy slammed down her cup. “Why do you hate him so much? Why can’t you just be happy for me that I found someone I love, someone who loves me back?”

The anger was full blown at this point. “I don’t want to talk about it. Listen, what time do you need me back?”

“Four is fine,” she grumbled, as close to exploding as I was.

I grabbed my keys and headed toward the elevator. “Alright, fine. Be ready to go, though, cause Naomi is going to cook for us.”

Issy’s face immediately brighten
ed at that comment, and who could blame her? Naomi’s food was to die for. I closed the elevator with a wave and brushed past the guard as I left. Grant was insane if he thought Issy was in any danger here. I knew politicians who had less security.

The counselor’s office was only a few minutes away, getting me there with plenty of time to spare. I parked the car and rolled my neck, trying to remove the tension. I popped my knuckles, rolled my neck again, and then beat my head on the back of the seat. The tension got worse. I reached into the glove compartment and grabbed my anxiety medicine. Closing my eyes, I waited until the panic subsided and I could finally get out of the car.

“This is better than jail,” I reminded myself as I approached the heavy doors of the building.

The waiting room was similar to what I expected, a few chairs, a TV, and lots of magazines. Oddly though, the receptionist wasn’t a young, perky girl, but instead a pretty intense looking guy with both arms covered in multiple tattoos. I approached the desk and cleared my throat, causing him to look up from whatever book he had been reading.

“Oh, sorry man. You Jake Matthews?” he asked, looking down at the appointment book. Physically, he was young, but the look in his eyes was one that screamed he was an old soul, hardened by life at an early age. I recognized the quality because I had seen it in myself for years.

He cleared his throat, forcing me to respond. “Um, yeah, I have an appointment with Dr. Pierce at nine.”

The guy chuckled. “You may want to drop the doctor part. He hates all that formality. Anyway, go on in. He’s expecting you.”

I turned to the room he pointed at and felt my heart start racing immediately. I guess I stood there for a while because the guy behind the counter spoke up again. This time with a voice that almost seemed compassionate.

“The first time’s the hardest, but Bruce is the best.”

I didn’t respond, but his words did seem to get my legs moving again.

The door opened easily as I pushed it in. Dr. Pierce immediately stood up from his desk and waved me over.

“Come on in, Jake. I was just looking over your file,” he said lightly.

Frozen again in the doorframe, this time from shock, I took in my new counselor. He was easily two inches taller than me and built like a heavyweight wrestler. His t-shirt was loose at his waist, but strained against his bulging bicep and chest muscles. Completely bald, he looked more like a bouncer at a club than a court-appointed shrink.

“You’re Dr. Pierce?” I finally choked out as I somehow managed to come in the room and shut the door.

He let out a hearty laugh and pointed to the two club chairs facing each other. No couch, I noted gratefully. Instead, in the corner of the room, a punching bag hung from the ceiling.

“Call me Bruce,” he offered in a deep voice that matched his appearance. He chuckled again. “I still love that first reaction. Not what you expected, huh?”

I cleared my throat, which was suddenly bone dry, and sat down in one of the leather chairs he offered. “No, I guess not.”

Sitting across from me, Bruce eyed my work attire. “Glasses, a tie, a stuffy suit perhaps?” he asked with a smile.

Looking down at my clothes, I caught his double meaning. “Yeah, something like that,” I admitted, loosening my tie a little to get some much needed air. Stuffy. His office was definitely stuffy, and hot, I decided, as I wiped my palms on my slacks.

He sat back and crossed his arms. “So Jake, tell me why you are here.”

Here we go, I thought, desperate to have some focus. This guy’s write up was the difference between jail time and a clean slate. I needed him to like me.

“I want to find a way to control my anger,” I answered methodically, proud that it came out as calmly as it had.

He leaned up and put his elbows on his knees, examining me closely. I couldn’t help but squirm under his glare as I waited for the next question. “So, who did you assault again?”

I took a stabilizing breath. “Andrew Summers.”

“And do you regret hitting him?” he asked without missing a beat.

“Yes,” I lied, hoping he couldn’t see the resentment on my face. I was sweating now. Could he see that? Glancing at my armpits, I tightened my suit coat, hoping it would be the barrier I needed.