Blame It on the Pain Read online

  An FBI agent she specifically told me wasn't in her life anymore.

  He sure as fuck looked to be very much in her life...especially while he was positioning himself to go down on her.

  I don't even know what to think at this point. The only thing I feel is betrayed, hurt, and lied to.

  And I know...I lied to her, too.

  But unlike her lie, my lie was to protect her from harm.

  I've done nothing but try and be there for this girl...I didn't use her, intentionally hurt her, or betray her.

  The question is...why the fuck did Alyssa feel the need to do all of those things to me?

  I know she's got her demons...I saw them up close and personal tonight.

  I also know that she thought the world of her dad's old partner. I guess I know why now.

  My chest tightens when I think about what she said.

  She loves him.

  I made the mistake of falling for a girl who could never be mine because she already belongs to someone else.

  My blood boils at the thought.

  But if she loves him...why did she lead me on?

  No. Fuck, no.

  She wouldn't do that. It would be stupid and dangerous to do that.

  I force myself to breathe. I have to remind myself that if Alyssa was in fact, attempting some undercover shit...then she wouldn't have told me about what DeLuca did to her dad.

  Unless she made it up?

  No. I saw the agony in her eyes that night when she confided in me. I felt it. There's no way that was false.

  At least, that makes one thing she told me true.

  Tyrone tried to warn me about her in the beginning. Hell, even Lou-Lou warned me about her. I just refused to listen. I didn't want to believe it.

  I thought I saw something inside of her that called to me...connected us. Something I wanted to take care of. Something I would have cherished until my dying breath.

  I pull the car door open and grab her purse from the passenger seat of the mustang.

  I'm sure as shit not going back up that hill, but I also don't want to have any of her stuff near me.

  I don't need to be reminded of what a deceitful bitch she is because I'm certain I'll never forget.

  And because I'm feeling extra spiteful at the moment, I snatch the necklace I got her.

  I put them both on the hood of her car. Now, I have absolutely no reason to ever see her again.

  Although, if she ever showed up at my place; I'm sure I could have Lou-Lou play along and answer the door for me. I could make Alyssa think I was fucking her. I could hurt her the way I'm hurting now, but I'd rather just be done with her for good.

  I briefly consider keying her precious BMW, but quite frankly, I don't have the energy to go all Carrie Underwood on her ass. I still have over an hour drive ahead of me.

  Besides, I'm sure Mr. Special Agent, Daddy Warbucks would just offer to buy her a brand new car. Hell, maybe he's the one who bought her the one she has now.

  I almost let myself love her. I was right there...on the fucking cliff...already falling...about to land.

  I just never knew I was headed for a crash landing.

  Chapter 21 (Alyssa)

  Fuck, I forgot my purse.

  I briefly consider turning around. But for what? How the hell can I even begin to explain what goes on inside my mind to Jackson? He'll think I'm a psycho. Hell, I probably am.

  A part of me wants to turn the car around, but Jackson will just want to talk about everything. How can I tell him about this place I go to inside myself that causes me to do these things? How can I tell him that when he hurt me...all I thought about was Ford.

  How can I tell him about Ford?

  I know, deep down inside that Ford is the gatekeeper to this hellhole I'm trapped in. But I can't live without him...because he's the only one who ever showed me love after that horrible day. He's the one who cared when I had no one else. He's the only tie to my father I have left. And if I severe our relationship...I'll have nothing.

  I know our relationship isn't healthy. It hasn't been since that day in his office, maybe even before that if I'm being honest with myself.

  But I know he loves me. I know he cares...and I know he will always be there for me.

  Like now, I think, as I pull into my driveway and see him waiting for me in his car.

  As soon as I get out of my own car, his arms are around me.

  “What happened, sweetheart? You don't look happy.” His blue eyes are piercing tonight and his expression is particularly kind.

  I'm immediately uneasy. Ford hasn't treated me like this in a very long time. Usually, he's upset with me about something or telling me all that I do wrong. I almost want to ask him when the last time he saw me genuinely happy was...because I'm always miserable when he's around.

  I shrug as we begin walking toward the house. I don't really want to tell him about Jackson. Besides, anytime he suspects that I've been out with a guy...wow he gets mad.

  I decide, to stay silent. Because I know that when it comes to Ford, anything and everything I say will eventually be used against me.

  We walk up to the house, but I don't invite him in. I'm too exhausted to deal with whatever it is he came here for tonight. “I'm tired, Ford. I think I'm just going to go to bed. Have a good night.”

  His hand wraps around my arm and he spins me around. Then I see it. The moment he looks down at my dress and his expression fills with disgust. “I wonder why that is, Alyssa.”

  When I don't respond, he pushes me further. “I know you've been seeing someone.”

  He says this like the concept of me actually having a relationship with anyone is utterly barbaric.

  I let him continue because I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that. I don't want to correct him and tell him that we got into a fight and might be over; because I don't want him telling me that he told me so and that no one will ever love me.

  “I know you stayed at his apartment in the city the last time I saw you. He was also who you hung up on me for during our last conversation.”

  I don't know how he has this information or why it matters so much to him. “Yeah...and? What's your point?”

  He steps closer to me and I swear his features change right before my eyes. His eyes narrow, his jaw goes rigid and his lips form a tight line. The hand around my arm squeezes so hard I wince. “You said he was important, Alyssa.”

  I laugh, I laugh so hard I must sound like a crazy person. “So? He is important. What the hell is your deal?”

  “My deal,” he grits through his teeth. “Is that there should be no one in your life more important than me, do you understand me? You are mine. My goddamn whore, you hear me? Not his!”

  And then he slaps me. Hard. Right across my left cheek.

  And then I'm crying. Because the truth fucking hurts.

  All of it hurts.

  I want to go numb.

  “Goddammit,” he screams. “See what you made me do?”

  “I'm s-sorry.”

  “Stop stuttering, Alyssa. I forgive you.”

  I only stutter like this when I'm terrified or upset.

  I'm about to apologize again, but I realize what he said. He forgives me? For what? I've done nothing wrong. “I don't forgive you, Ford.”

  He appears confused so I continue, “I don't forgive you for that day in the office. I don't forgive you for the way you treat me. And I definitely don't forgive you for slapping me.”

  He looks astonished but I'm not done yet. I jab a finger in his chest. “So what? I have a boyfriend. And you know what the best part about Jackson is? He doesn't treat me like you do, Ford. He's nice to me. He respects me. He doesn't treat me like I'm his property and he certainly doesn't treat me like I'm a whore.”

  Ford looks at me with so much pain in his eyes...I almost crumble.

  He grabs my face. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” He leans down so we are eye level. “I love you, Alyssa.” He kisses my cheek. “Can you f
orgive the beast?” He kisses my other cheek. “For only trying to save her,” he whispers.

  I close my eyes because this Ford is so familiar. This is the Ford I know in my heart. This is the Ford I love.

  His hands find my waist and his thumbs skim over my rib cage. “Please,” he pleads.

  I open my eyes and look down as he drops to his knees. I've never seen Ford look so sad or desperate before.

  He looks up at me. “I know you love me. Don't punish me for loving you back. Please don't punish me for being the only one who could ever love you.”

  Something about that statement tears at my soul. I can't respond to him, because if I open my mouth...something inside me will crack further. And I won't know how to fix it all by myself.

  His hands grip my hips forcefully. “You love me, Alyssa. You fucking love me. Let me hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.”

  But I can't. I can't say it. He looks so wounded in this moment, it physically causes me to ache.

  But I still can't say it.

  He fists my dress. “I'll make you say it then,” he sneers.

  What? No.

  Fear renders me captive and I attempt to shake my head, but I can't move.

  He cups my mound through the silk fabric of my dress. “Tell me, does he touch you like this?”

  I stay frozen, refusing to answer him. He lifts my dress and the cool breeze hits me, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. “He's never made you come before has he?” He clicks his tongue. “But then again, no one has...have they, sweetheart?”

  I don't answer him and he laughs. “You want to know why that is?”

  I don't. I really, really don't. Because I think I already know the answer.

  I just never wanted to believe it.

  His head dips forward and I know there's only one way to make this stop. “I love you, Ford,” I shout at the top of my lungs.

  But he doesn't stop.

  “I own your mind,” he whispers, his breath tickling my core. “Because I was the first one to fuck that and make it mine.”

  I crack. My body feels both lighter and heavier at the same time.

  He smiles. He's giving me that movie star smile that now makes me feel sick. “I love you, Alyssa.”

  The tears hit me fast and hard.

  What kind of man loves like this?

  That's easy.

  No man.

  Because what Ford feels for me isn't love.

  “No, you don't.”

  Something deep inside me snaps with that final realization. I push him off me and open the front door.

  He chases after me, following me into the kitchen. “Get out, Ford! Get out!”

  I shove him. I shove him as far as I possibly can and he stumbles back. I need him to leave. I never want to see him again.

  I scream and pull my hair. Ford looks at me like I'm insane.

  Good. Let him see what he's created.

  Before I know it, I'm reaching for a knife and aiming it at him. “Get the fuck out!”

  His eyes open wide and for a moment, I think he's going to reach for his gun. But he holds his hands up instead. “Put the knife down, sweetheart. Look, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I only wanted to hear you say that you loved me.”

  “It's your fault!” I scream. His mouth drops open and for a second, I swear, panic flashes across his face.

  I'm crying so hard I can barely form words. “It's your fault I'm like this. You broke me.” I begin shaking. “And the worst part is...in my darkest moments...when I go to that place inside myself. I'm just like you.”

  And it's true. It's so fucking true. I treat others like they're disposable. I treat myself like I'm worth nothing. I manipulate people to get my own way. And I can honestly say, that I don't love myself.

  The cold, hard reality is like being thrown outside naked in the middle of a blizzard.

  I wipe my nose with my sleeve and fall down to the floor. “You don't love me, Ford.”

  He begins pacing, looking at me like I'm a mental case. “Of course, I love you!” he screams.

  I look him in his eyes for the last time. “No. Because if you loved me...you would never keep insisting that I go undercover for my father's killer...knowing that he might end up killing me if he ever found out.”

  He opens his mouth to speak but I hold up my hand. “You would want to protect me. You would want me to be safe. You wouldn't send me into the eye of the storm. You wouldn't set me up.”

  A tear falls from Ford's eye. “Alyssa. I—”

  “Just leave, Ford. Please, just leave me. That's the only way you can ever make any of this okay.”

  I hear the sound of the door closing and breathe...actually breathe for the first time in years.

  I drop the knife and curl my arms around myself...because I'm all I have left now.

  And I have to be okay with that.

  Three months later...

  Chapter 22 (Alyssa)

  “I need a glass of coke and a splash of jack.”

  I wink at my customer. “Ah. You take your whiskey like I take my coffee. Cup of cream and sugar and a splash of coffee.”

  He looks embarrassed. “I guess that makes me sound like less of a man, huh?”

  I wave a hand at him and continue fixing his drink. “Nah. You gotta do what's right for you. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.”

  He leans in. “And what if I told you that getting your number would be what's right for me?”

  Somewhere in back of me, someone clears their throat. “I would say that what's right for me...is punching you in the face for hitting on my girl.”

  My customer quickly leaves after that.

  I roll my eyes and look up at my friend. “What the hell, Shane?” I nod my head in the direction of the cute musician who hasn't stopped looking at Shane since his shift started. “Your boyfriend is sitting right over there watching you.”

  He flips a bottle in the air. “I know. I'm wearing the jeans that make my ass look great.” He begins filling the glass in front of him. “I thought I'd run interference. Besides, I said my girl. Not girlfriend. If he was really interested in you for more than one night, he would have clarified.” He shrugs. “Guy looked like a douche anyway. ”

  I shake my head. “You're crazy.”

  He purses his lips. “Yeah, but you love me.”

  I smile because I can honestly say that I do. Shane gave me a job when no one else would. Not only did he hire me, but he also lets me rent the apartment upstairs from the bar.

  And when I had a full blown panic attack over possibly being recognized that first night...he wiped my tears away and suggested we dye my hair. He didn't judge me when I told him about the video and he never uses my real name around customers.

  I toss my long dark hair over my shoulder and kiss his cheek. “Call me if it gets packed. You know where I'll be.”

  He laughs. “It won't now that you're off the clock. But I'll call you anyway.”

  I walk around the bar and head upstairs to my studio apartment.

  A lot has changed over the last three months.

  For starters...I no longer visit the city. I live here now. I moved out of my father's house two weeks after the last night I saw Ford.

  I used the money I got from selling Ford's BMW which was apparently equipped with a hidden gps tracking device to help me move.

  That's how he knew I spent the night at Jackson's.

  Jackson.

  I have to close my eyes at the thought of him.

  I went out to my car the next day and found my purse along with the necklace he got for me. I also dug my phone out and wept while I read all of his text messages.

  I didn't even think about it, I hopped in my car and went straight to his apartment.

  Where he proceeded to ignore me for hours upon hours.

  So, I left and came back the next day.

  Only to face an angry Tyrone.

  He didn't want to speak to me...but after h
e saw the state I was in...he relented a little. He said that Jackson wouldn't go into much detail about it, but that he saw me with some other guy at my house.

  Apparently, he came to my house to talk to me that night and showed up just as Ford got down on his knees and I was screaming that I loved him. He left shortly after that and never looked back.

  I never thought it was possible to hate Ford more. But, I really only had myself to blame. I should have been honest with Jackson and I should have kicked Ford out of my life a long time ago.

  I told Tyrone...well, it was more like begged Tyrone to talk to Jackson for me and set him straight.

  I told Tyrone to tell him that what he saw between Ford and I wasn't what he thought it was.

  The verdict?

  It didn't matter. Jackson was done with me.

  I still wasn't done with him yet, so I made one final attempt.

  This time, it was Jackson himself who answered the door. He never let me get a word in, but I'll never forget what he said- “I'm all out of fucks to give. Maybe Ford can give you a few.”

  Then he slammed the door in my face and locked it.

  Yup...I hurt him that much.

  And I never, ever got a chance to apologize to him or explain what happened.

  I tried for two weeks straight to make things right. But the same thing happened every time. Tyrone would come out and tell me to go home. Nothing was going to change.

  It got to the point where even freakin' Lou-Lou was looking at me with pity whenever she saw me in the apartment lobby.

  I didn't want to, but I had to let him go.

  I can only hope, that our paths will cross again one day.

  Chapter 23 (Jackson)

  “I love you, sugarplum.”

  Ricardo and I exchange a glance.

  “I promise I'll call you later, sugarplum,” Tyrone continues. “I've missed you so much. I can't wait to see you, sugarplum.”

  “So help me god, if he says sugarplum one more time,” Ricardo says under his breath.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and lean forward. I don't know how much more of this sugarplum shit I can take.

  I'm about ready to hand over my balls just so he can feel what it's like to have a pair again.