Chapter Thirty
Brooklyn
*I fucking love you.*
*I fucking love you.*
*I fucking love you.*
Those words run through my head on constant repeat, keeping me from being able to fall asleep.
Jackson is passed out, his arms wrapped around me, holding me to him as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
And if I’m honest, my flight instincts are kicked into high gear at the moment, and it’s taking everything inside of me to not leave this bed and apartment.
To run.
Because when shit gets heavy, that’s what feels safe.
And shit just got real fucking heavy.
It’s not like I didn’t know that he felt that way, but now that those words are out there, they are going to come with expectations.
Expectations of me to say them in return, when I’ve not uttered those three words in almost a decade.
Expectations of more, and right now, I’m giving everything that I have to give.
I can’t give *more*.
My entire body begins trembling as I continue obsessing over those four fucking words, uttered in a moment of passion, but their meaning is no less damning.
*I can’t do this,* I think as I gently remove Jackson’s arm from around my shoulders. Sitting up, I place it against his bare stomach, his hand clenching and unclenching as if somehow aware and trying to hold on.
I slip from the bed, my bare feet padding silently against the hardwood of the floor as I turn, casting one last lingering look at the man who has grown to mean so damn much to me in such a short amount of time, but because of that fact, he holds all the power and can break me just as easily as he wound his way into my heart, probably even easier if I’m honest.
I close the door without a sound, make my way towards the front door, spying my jacket that I’d absently tossed across the back of the couch earlier when I decided to lie down and try to get rid of the migraine that is still lingering just below the surface, just waiting to strike.
I can feel it like a storm building in strength and severity, just waiting for the right moment.
As I pull my jacket around my shoulders, I slip my feet into my shoes and try to figure out where to go.
Chastity’s is out of the question, and so is Teddy’s, though I wouldn’t go back there if my life depended on it.
I was serious about wanting to get out of that type of life.
I can’t go back now, I won’t.
I open the front door and slip through, as quiet as a mouse, pulling it shut behind me.
And all of a sudden, the realizations that I’ve just closed a door, in more than one way.
A way that makes me question if Jackson will ever be able to forgive me.
But I can’t think about that right now, about him.
If I do, I will undoubtedly turn around.
There’s a pit in my stomach as I descend the stairs and step out into the cold, early morning air.
February in Colorado is nothing to mess with, and judging by the swirls of ice particles sweeping through the air, snow is in our immediate future.
“Guess that means that curling up on a park bench for the night is out of the question,” I mutter to myself as I cross the parking lot, heading towards a lit walking path to my left.
The silence of the night is deafening, my ears fabricating sounds that I know aren’t there but seem inclined to fill the quiet with some kind of sound.
Just as I realize this, something begins to move in a bush up ahead, causing me to slow my stride and pull my jacket tighter around my body, wishing that I’d put on some warmer clothes.
Sleep shorts, Jackson’s white t-shirt, and my jacket were not the smartest of decisions considering the night's elements.
My heart is pounding a rapid staccato in my chest as I slowly approach the still stirring bush.
*It’s probably just an animal or something,* I try to convince myself, but the otherwise eerie silence surrounding me makes it hard to believe.
*Please don’t let it be some creep,* I silently beg as I continue on my trek down the path.
Just as I’m passing the bush, a cat slips out from beneath it.
“Holy shit,” I curse just as it begins winding its fluffy body through my bare legs, its fur surprisingly providing a modicum of warmth against my body in the otherwise frigid air.
Reaching down, I pick up the little gray cat and begin scratching it between its ears as I draw it to my chest. She’s purring happily as I begin walking once more, wondering aloud, “How are you not freezing? Your coat is even still warm.”
She responds with a “meow” and nudges my hand with her nose, wanting me to continue petting her.
“Demanding little thing, aren't you?” I tease as I wrap her in my jacket, happy for both the company and the extra bit of heat her small body provides.
I ponder my options of where to go, knowing that there isn’t going to be a shelter with an open bed at this time of night.
“Who am I kidding? There isn’t even an open shelter at this time of night,” I mutter as I spy a park bench and begin making my way over to it.
As I get closer, I see a small lump of some kind at the base of it, my curiosity piqued at what it could be.
Stopping in front of it, I squat down and reach forward until my fingers make contact with what feels like wool, and when I lift it, I find that it’s a large, thick, wool trench coat.
“What are the odds?” I question as I look around, trying to see if I can spot its owner in the darkness surrounding me.
Not seeing anyone, I lay down on the cold metal bench, placing the coat over my body, its size covering me entirely, and then curl around the cat still snuggled against my chest, purring contentedly.
Although I’m much warmer than before with the coverage that the coat provides, it’s still really fucking cold out here, my entire body shivering as I try to doze off.
Just as I’m falling into a semi-relaxed state, sleep pulling me further into its depths, the cat uncurls from within my arms and jumps down with a “Meow.”
I swear I hear a low chuckle, “Good girl,” before I feel something press against my face, covering both my mouth and nose. Whatever it is, I don’t stand a chance as everything around me completely disappears, and I’m pulled swiftly into nothingness.
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