Blame It on the Pain Page 10

  His nostrils flared and he grunted. “If you say it was DeLuca- do you know what will happen, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah. He'll go to jail for a very long time. Maybe even forever.”

  He grabbed my face again and stared into my eyes. “No, he won't. He knows you saw him, Alyssa. And he'll come after you. Along with me, and your mother. And he won't stop until we're all dead.” One hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “He'll bash my skull in and spread my brains all over the concrete.”

  He lowered his voice and whispered in my ear, “And then he'll do it to your mom. And he'll make you watch every single second of it before he does it to you. Just like with your dad.”

  I couldn't stop myself from dry heaving with those words. Ford reached for a garbage pail and held it out in front of me while he stroked my hair.

  After a few moments, my stomach settled and I was able to breathe again. “But that would make me a l-liar. Being a liar is bad. Those two boys were innocent.”

  He sat on the chair in front of the table I was still sitting on and put my feet on top of his thighs. “I know your mom reads to you a lot. What's your favorite fairy tale?”

  I was put off by the change of subject, but I answered anyway. “Beauty and the Beast.”

  He smiled and tilted his head toward me. “Do you think the beast was bad?”

  “No. I mean, at first, maybe. But he changed his ways for Belle.”

  “And the beast rescued Belle in the end, right?”

  “Well, yes...and no. It's complicated, Ford. The beast loved her and Belle loved him. Despite how mean he was in the beginning. She saw past all that.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips. “Can you see past the wrong I've done?”

  I didn't understand what he meant by that. “Of course. I already told you, you're not a bad guy. You're my favorite person.”

  “I was only trying to put the bad guy away,” he whispered.

  “I know. I'm not mad at you.”

  “Will you let me rescue you then?” His thumb grazed my cheek. “Will you let me be your Prince, Alyssa?”

  My cheeks flushed and a swarm of butterflies entered my tummy. “I-um.” My breathing became shaky. “I'm feeling nervous and weird right now and I don't understand why,” I blurted out.

  “You never have to be nervous around me. I would do anything in the world for you. You trust me, right?”

  “Yeah-yes.”

  “I would never, ever hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  “Who killed your father?”

  “You already know.”

  The pad of his thumb brushed my cheek again and he moved closer. “Who killed your father, Alyssa?”

  I stayed silent.

  “Better, sweetheart.” He planted a kiss on my cheek and I blushed. “Now I'll ask you again. Who did it? Who killed your father?”

  He kissed my other cheek right before I answered, “They did. Those...boys. My father tried to stop the fight between them and they attacked him before they shot each other.”

  He let out a deep breath. “I'm so proud of you.”

  He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Thank you for letting me rescue and protect you.”

  ***

  “And that's my story, Jackson. You know things that I've never told another soul.”

  His brows furrow. “Do you still talk to your dad's old partner?”

  “Out of everything I just told you, that's what you're choosing to focus on?”

  I get up off the bed. “Ford protected me from my father's killer.”

  He runs a hand through his short hair. “Yeah, I know. I get it,” he says before mumbling something under his breath that I don't catch. He appears lost in thought before asking, “Is that why you were grilling me about the owner of the fight club? You thought it was this DeLuca guy, didn't you?”

  I nod and he stands up. “It's not by the way. He's not the owner. But you realize how dangerous it would be for you if it was, right?”

  “Yeah.” I stare at him. “I mean, no. If DeLuca wanted me, he would have gotten me by now. Trust me, after the sex tape my identity isn't exactly an issue anymore. Everyone knows who I am now. Besides, the media went with the story about two rival gangs killing a cop. No one knows the truth besides Ford and I...and now you.”

  “You never answered my question.”

  “What question?”

  “Do you still talk to him?”

  “No,” I lie.

  I might have told Jackson things I've never told another person. But there's no way I can tell him about the exact nature of me and Ford's relationship throughout the years.

  Or the moment, or rather, moments; it changed.

  And the way it broke me.

  Chapter 11 (Alyssa)

  Past...

  After that day in the interrogation room, Ford remained an integral part of my childhood.

  He came around every other weekend and whisked me away for a few hours during another one of my mother's drunken binges.

  He tried persuading her to go to rehab, so many times I lost count; but as usual, she insisted that she didn't have a problem and that if he wanted to continue spending time with me he needed to mind his own business.

  He attended every recital, every sporting event, and even a few parent- teacher conferences.

  At least, he did until I turned 15.

  After that, he seldom came around and I didn't understand why.

  One time, he mumbled something about it no longer being appropriate for us to spend so much time with one another, and I thought my heart was going to shatter into a million pieces.

  Before he drove away from my tear stained face that day, he promised me that he would always be in my life.

  I hated that he was purposely distancing himself from me, but to his credit, he did text me a few times a week. And he still made it a point to see me in person during the two days leading up to my birthday.

  Those were always the hardest for me for obvious reasons.

  ***

  I'll never forget the night of my 17th birthday.

  I had gotten into another horrible fight with my mother and John. One of the worst ones to date. I found out that he officially moved in with us.

  After hours of persuading and guilting Ford into coming to see me, he finally relented.

  He pulled up in a shiny new BMW. The color matching his dark blue eyes perfectly.

  I let out a whistle when I saw it, and those perfect teeth of his flashed me a movie star grin. "You like?"

  "I do. It's gorgeous."

  He opened the driver side door and threw the keys at me. "Let's go. You drive."

  I stared at him, too stunned to speak. "What's with the look? You are 17 now." He winked. "I trust you not to crash my baby. Now get over here."

  I bit my lip and walked over to his side of the car.

  He got out and stood before me, his large frame towering over me. His eyes briefly scanned over my body before he looked away. "Jesus, what the hell are they putting in the milk these days," he muttered.

  "What are you talking about?"

  He coughed before looking at me again. "It's just...you look so grown up compared to when I last saw you. I can't believe your mother lets you out of the house looking like that."

  I smoothed over the micro denim mini skirt that I wore especially for him.

  I didn't usually wear suggestive clothing, but I wanted to look different.

  I wanted Ford to see me as a woman, instead of some silly teenager. "Looking like what, Ford? It's been an entire year since I last saw you, of course, I grew up."

  His gaze lingered over my legs. "Yeah, I guess you did."

  He walked over to the passenger side door. "You gonna be able to drive in those heels, killer?"

  I smirked. "I'll manage."

  Since I was the driver, and the destination was my choice. I knew exactly where I wanted to take him.

  "Out of all the places to go to. You choose this
place. On your birthday."

  The stars lit up the night time sky and the sound of water crashing against the docks hovered in the distance as I parked the car.

  I chewed on my thumbnail. "I haven't been back here since it happened. And there's no one in the world I trust to come here with but you."

  "I haven't been here since that day either," he confessed.

  I leaned against the headrest and pushed my seat back. "Do you think he would be proud of me?"

  Ford reached for my hand. "Of course, he would. Why would you think otherwise?"

  "Sometimes I think he would be mad that I didn't stop my mother from turning into an alcoholic. That I should have prevented it."

  Before Ford could interject I added, "Sometimes I think he blames me for causing his death. All because I pulled that stupid stunt. God, I was such a brat. What the hell was I thinking?"

  His fingers linked with mine. "You were a child, Alyssa. It wasn't your fault and he would never blame you. He loved you."

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tuned out his words. "She still cries over him. Usually, it's after John has gone to bed and she thinks no one can hear her. But I can. I always can. Hell, sometimes I cry with her."

  "Sweetheart—" he started.

  I cleared my throat and opened my eyes. "So, anyway. What's new with you?"

  He drew back his hand and ran it along his jaw. "Well, I met someone."

  "Oh?" I said, hoping my true feelings over his statement wouldn't show.

  It felt like he tossed my heart in a blender and pressed 'puree.' Twice.

  "Yeah. She's a doll, too. She's a nurse in the ER over at Columbia."

  I gritted my teeth. "A nurse, how sweet."

  Obviously not picking up on my sarcasm, he continued, "Yeah. She is. Better than the last relationship I had. What a disaster that was. I'm thinking it's time for this old dog to settle down. Make an honest woman out of someone."

  "You're not old," I muttered. He laughed. "I'm 35. That's like ancient to most teenagers."

  I played with a strand of my hair. "I'm not like most teenagers, Ford."

  He stared at me for a beat and swallowed. "No. No, you're not. You've been through more shit than most adults have in an entire lifetime."

  "So what's this nurse's name?" I interrupted.

  "Penelope."

  "That's a stupid name," I said through clenched teeth.

  In all honesty, it wouldn't have mattered what her name was, I still would have hated it.

  He chuckled. "It's a bit of a mouthful, I suppose."

  I glared at him. "Does she put out?"

  He looked taken back. "I don't think that's any of your business. You don't hear me asking if you've given it up to Tony, now do you?"

  I spun around in my seat. "His name's Toby." I crossed my arms. "And for your information- No, I haven't given it up yet. I want it to be special."

  He nodded, relief flashing across his face. "That's good. It should be special—" he started to say before I cut him off.

  "But I've given him one hell of a blowjob."

  "Christ, Alyssa. What the hell is the matter with you?"

  "You!" I shouted. "You left me, Ford. I needed you and you weren't there. You were all I had to depend on after mom went off the deep end. You were the only good thing I had left. Especially after John entered our lives."

  He sat up straight. "Has that prick touched you? I swear to God, I'll kill him."

  I rolled my eyes. "No. I just don't trust him is all. He's not a good guy. Especially now that he's living with us and controlling mom's every move."

  "Shit, she let him move in? You know you can tell me if he steps out of line with you or your mother. Right?"

  "Yeah."

  We stayed silent for what felt like hours before I finally gathered enough strength to ask him. "Why did you leave me? Why did you go away?"

  "I told you. Our relationship wasn't appropriate. People were going to talk and assume things about us, about me."

  I slammed the steering wheel with my hand. "So let them. Who the fuck cares what other people say."

  "It's not that simple, Alyssa."

  "I don't buy it. We weren't doing anything wrong. And I don't think people would say shit if they knew the way you saved me. If they knew the way you stepped in when no one else did."

  He stayed silent, but I continued probing. "What's the real reason, Ford? You've always been honest with me."

  He looked down, avoiding my gaze. "I already told you. It wasn't appropriate."

  I smacked the steering wheel again. "Bullshit."

  "Would you quit doing that!" he shouted. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

  "Stop avoiding my question, Ford."

  "I already answered the goddamned question," he ground out.

  I slammed the steering wheel again, harder this time.

  "Stop it!"

  "Make me."

  He grabbed my wrists. "Stop acting like a child."

  "Stop treating me like one then. And tell me the truth!"

  "How many times do I have to say it? It wasn't appropriate, Alyssa."

  I struggled against him. "Why? You never did anything wrong. So what exactly was it about our relationship that wasn't appropriate?"

  "Goddammit, Alyssa. Me. My thoughts. The way I was starting to look at you, think about you. Feel about you. Nothing about it was appropriate."

  And just like that, the smoke screen was lifted and my heart soared into orbit.

  "How could it not be appropriate when I thought the same things?"

  "Because you're a child. I'm an adult. I should know better."

  "I'm not a child."

  "Yeah, well. You're not an adult, either."

  "I'm in love with you, Ford. I always have been. I always will be."

  He closed his eyes. "Don't say stuff like that."

  "Why not? It's the truth."

  "You're my best friend's little girl. I was there at the hospital the day you were born for crying out loud. Do you know how disgusting that makes me feel? I want to wash my mind out with bleach every single time I think about you. Do you know how wrong everything about this is?"

  "Then I'll wait." I swallowed hard. "I'll wait until it's not wrong anymore. Hell, I'll wait for you forever."

  "That's the thing, Alyssa. I don't know when it would ever be right between us."

  "Then I might as well do this," I said before I leaned over the center console and kissed him.

  I expected him to push me away, to start yelling about how it wasn't appropriate again. Instead, he groaned and pulled me closer to him as his tongue skated over mine.

  Heat coursed through me and I reached for his belt buckle.

  That's when he stopped me.

  "No. You're not ready for that, yet. You deserve more than some cheap fuck in a car with some old man for your first time."

  I reached for his belt again. "Okay, so let me take care of you then."

  He pulled away. "No." He sighed. "Listen to me and listen good. You are beautiful and special. You're not some whore. You're a good girl, you understand me?"

  I shrugged. "I thought I'd do something to make you happy. I thought you wanted me."

  He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I do." He looked down. "Clearly that isn't the issue here."

  "So what's the problem?"

  "Gee, I don't know. Where do I begin? Oh, that's right. How about the fact that what we're doing is illegal. Use your head. You got accepted into NYU, didn't you?"

  "Okay, so when can we take the next step then?" He muttered something under his breath. "How about when you're old enough."

  "Can we still do other stuff?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

  "Like what we were doing before? You know, kissing."

  His lips twitched. "Well you can't un-ring a bell, now can you?"

  He leaned in so that I was pressed against my seat. "So fucking beautiful," he whispered before his lips landed on mine.


  "So does this mean you and Penelope are over?" I asked between kisses. "I'll break up with Toby first thing tomorrow."

  His hand stopped moving midway up my thigh. "I can't just break up with her," he said. "I asked her to marry me. The wedding's this summer."

  I pushed him off me. "You what? How could you? I thought you were in love with me?"

  He exhaled sharply and adjusted himself. "I am. I just never thought this—" He gestured between us. "Would ever happen."

  "Okay, and now that it has you can let her down easy."

  He looked at me like I sprouted another head. "And say what? That I'm in love with my deceased partner's daughter? Who by the fucking way isn't even 18 yet."

  "Maybe not in those exact words, but yeah. Something along those lines."

  He shook his head. "You don't get it, do you?"

  "Evidently not. Why don't you catch me up to speed, special agent," I bit out.

  "No one can ever know about us. It will always be wrong, no matter how we feel about one another. I have a reputation to protect. I'm a trusted officer of the law for Pete's sake."

  "But, I thought..."

  "You thought wrong, sweetheart." He grabbed my face between both of his hands. "Look, if you can't handle this. Then it's best we stop right here, right now."

  I swiped at the tears on my face. "I can't stand the thought of you with someone else, Ford."

  "That's the way it has to be."

  "I don't know if I can deal with that."

  "Then after tonight, forget about us. I'll always be there if you ever really need me, but I have to separate myself from you. It's too hard to be around you. You invade my senses until the only thing I see is you."

  "But I love you."

  He kissed me tenderly. "And I love you. That's why it's so difficult."

  I pulled him into another kiss. Our mouths coming together in a rough and needy mess. His hand slipped back down to my thigh. "Goddammit. You have no idea how much I want you. How much I've dreamed about this moment. How much I've jerked off to visions of you writhing underneath me."

  "Then marry me. Not her."

  His hand moved higher, raising the denim of my skirt to the level of my underwear. "I wish I could, sweetheart. Trust me."

  "You can. Who cares what other people think and say. We can live in our own little bubble."