Destructive Silence (The Destructive Series) (12 page)

Ready for bed and with nothing else to do, I pull the letter out of my purse. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I begin to unfold the paper. Just the sight of his handwriting makes my heart ache, causing me to close my eyes for a moment before I begin reading.

Dear Lacey,

I’m sorry for dropping this off on your windshield. I just really needed to tell you how sorry I am, and I’m not sure if you’ve read the text messages I’ve sent so I got desperate. Please, Lacey, I beg you to finish reading this before trashing it or balling it up and throwing it against the wall.

He knows me pretty well. The thought crossed my mind to throw it out the window on Interstate 95 on my way to work yesterday. I continue reading.

I’m so sorry baby. I never meant to hurt you! Nothing I say or do will make what I did okay. It was horrible and there is no excuse for what I’ve done. I love you and want to be with you so badly it hurts. Last Friday night my world shattered because of my stupid mistakes. I admit I did the unthinkable. I’m so sorry baby. I did the stupidest thing not once, but twice. I had my entire world with you and I threw it away. I would do anything to go back and change what I did. I know this isn’t an excuse, but it happened when I was completely wasted. I never would have done this to you with a clear mind. I love you too much. You are so beautiful, wonderful and such an amazing person. I threw everything away because I was thinking with my dick and not my head. I cannot tell you how sorry I am because there aren’t words. I promise I will stop drinking so much from now on. I don’t ever want to betray your trust again!

I know you don’t want to talk to me. I hurt you in the worst way and I can’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with me. I pray you will somehow find a way to forgive me. I miss you so
much: your beautiful smile, your laughter, and your intoxicating scents: sweet cucumber skin and coconut hair. I miss holding you in my arms. I’m lost without you. I miss your sweet tender kisses and getting lost in them. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and if you can find a place in your heart to give us another chance or to let me see you and tell you how I feel in person, I promise to be the best person I can for you. I know in my heart and soul we belong together and I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to give me a second chance. I love you so much and cannot imagine my life without you. I don’t want to!

I constantly check my phone to see if you’ve replied to my texts or called
. The silence is killing me and I’m empty without you. I love you, Lacey, and I am deeply sorry for the pain I’ve put you through. I will give you the space you need and I won’t contact you anymore. I love you baby, please I beg, give me another chance. I want to go back to the way things were before I messed up.

I love you forever and always,

Caine

I set the letter that now has little wet spots all over it down. I stare at it with tears bleeding out of my eyes. I’m so confused now; I don’t know what to do. I love him so much and I don’t want to live without him either. I miss him.
Dear God, what do I do?
Can I forgive him?

Taking a deep breath, I pull my phone out of my purse and begin to look at the text messages. There are so many! I scroll down and decide I’ll only read a couple because I’m already emotionally spent from the letter.

Caine:  Wednesday 8:29pm: 
I haven’t heard from you and wanted to make sure you got my text messages. I’m sorry baby. I love you.

Caine
:  Wednesday 9:10pm: 
Baby, can you please text or call me? I miss you and just want to talk. If I don’t hear from you, have a goodnight sweetheart. I love you!

Caine
:  Thursday 7:54am: 
Good morning Lacey. I just finished PT and wanted to tell you how much I love and miss you. Please reply. I love you so much.

I skip tw
o messages and read:

Caine
:  Thursday 11:02am: 
I just got back to the office from my lunch break. I took an early lunch so I could stop by your house before you left for work, and put something on your windshield. I miss you baby!

I skip a number of more mess
ages and settle to read only one more tonight; then I will be turning this monster off.

Caine
:  Thursday 8:37pm: 
Hey beautiful! I hope you had a chance to read the letter I left for you. You’re constantly on my mind. I know I told you in the letter I would give you space and I will after this message. I just couldn’t help myself. I’m missing you so much. I love you with all of my heart Lacey, forever and always!

I throw my head in my pillow wanting to scream at this guy. He has torn my heart out
, and wants me to forgive him for having sex with another girl. Can my heart heal? If I take him back, will he hurt me again; and if he does, will my heart survive? It probably wouldn’t. I need to cut ties and forget him. I will meet someone eventually who will treat me better. I send a quick text to Caine:

Lacey
:  Friday 10:42pm: 
Can we meet for coffee one day?

I check my email messages while I wait for him to respond, and as expected, he replies immediately.

Caine:  Friday 10:43pm: 
I’m so happy to hear from you baby. How’s tomorrow? I love you.

Shit!
Tomorrow? There is no way I can do this tomorrow. I need more time, more distance, and more emotional preparation before seeing him. I mentally go over my schedule.
Perfect!

Lacey
:  Friday 10:48pm: 
I can’t. How’s Tuesday?

I don’t even
bother putting the phone down or looking at anything because I know he will respond instantly, and I need to get this over with.
I was right.

Caine
:  Friday 10:50pm: 
Tuesday’s perfect. What time should I pick you up? We can go to the local coffee shop you like so much. I love you.

Dammit, I don’t want him picking me up. No way in hell can that happen! Think Lacey, think.
Oh!

Lacey
:  Friday 10:53pm: 
I have stuff to do early in the am. Let’s meet there at 11am?

Caine
:  Friday 10:55pm: 
I’ll be there sweetheart. I miss you like crazy and can’t wait to see you! I love you. Good night baby.

I roll my eyes and power off my phone without returning to look over my emails. I can’t think about anything else right now. I need to get my game face on, because he thinks we are getting back together.
Fuck!

Shock

It’s Saturday night and as I am walking out the front door, I think about how good it feels to finally get out and have fun. I owe it all to Becca. She thought it was time for me to get my tail out of the house to enjoy some dancing.

When I see Caine on Tuesday, I need to remember to tell him I won’t be traveling to Florida with him. We’ve had this trip scheduled for about a month to visit his family. When I purchased that plane ticket, my head was in the clouds. Damn, another day I forgot to call the airline to cancel my flight. I know I need to make the time; my mind just isn’t working like it did pre-bitch-smacking-Caine-on-the-lips-and-him-fucking-admitting-it-to-me-days.

Caine hasn’t sent me a text since the final one last night. If he continued to send me messages
like those that he had earlier in the week, I was seriously thinking about blocking his number. Last night, I had a weak moment after reading the sappy ass letter he left on my car along with the rose. I know our relationship is over, but apparently, he needs to see me in person to get it through his thick skull. Tuesday is my day off and that’s the only reason I suggested that day. I’m not sure if I’m going to need the rest of the day to get my emotions under control after meeting with him. Work has kept me busy enough that I haven’t had time to wallow in self-pity. The nights are the worst, and no matter what he did, I miss him. I began to second-guess myself this morning. What if that bitch was jealous and was trying to start something between us? Maybe Caine was telling the truth.
No Lacey
. He admitted it. What the hell is wrong with me? The stress is making me too tired to do anything; it’s almost as if I’m on autopilot. I thought I was coming down with something, but thankfully, mom thinks it’s just exhaustion. When I talked to Becca this morning about second-guessing myself, she threw the biggest hissy fit of her life-thus far. Then she demanded I follow through on going out to dance with her tonight. Getting back onto the dance floor is sure to make me feel a lot like my old self.

Turning on the ignition to my car causes Becca to shut her eyes tight and shake her head in disappointment. Oops, I forgot to turn it to a radio station before she got in the car; so she wouldn’t hear me listening to Boys II Men, ‘End of the Road’. “What the fuck, Lacey? You’re torturing yourself! Have you been listening to this depressing shit the past few days? What the hell else is on this CD? Oh my fucking God, another one of their songs, ‘Water Runs Dry’? Shit Lacey!”

I will allow her to rant because if I interfere, Lord knows how much longer it will take to get her past this issue. She hits the button for the next song and Candlebox’s, ‘Far Behind’ plays. She is going to have a shit fit. She skips to the next song and Cher Lloyd’s, ‘Want You Back’ begins to play.

“Holy cow Lacey, how the hell are you ever going to move on if you listen to break up songs? I’m hijacking this CD. You aren’t allowed to listen to this shit anymore! Do you hear me?”

I roll my eyes and silently pray she doesn’t look into my CD collection because the front holds my favorites. I have a feeling I will be out a number of CDs if she starts snooping. I try to change the topic so she will focus on something other than my self-destructive behavior.

"Just so you know, I will not be making friends with any guys," I inform her as I put the car in gear. "I just want to dance and feel alive again." I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my chest. I am tired of thinking about Caine
's traveling eyes. If he wants to be friendly with other girls, he can do so without me by his side. “Becca, don't look at me like that,” I roll my eyes. “You can’t solve one guy problem by getting involved with another.” Becca is not one of Caine's fans. In fact, she acts as though she's going to projectile vomit each time I say his name, and has  since Lucas told her Caine was cheating.

"Said no one ever!” she slams. “I'm done with all the crap he's pulling on you. You are essentially sucka free
and not tied down anymore, so you deserve to have a night of carefree clubbing. In fact, we are breaking the glass tonight - pulling out the big guns for you." I smile at her. She's right. "Okay, enough talk about the douche bag, I'm starting to not enjoy myself," she says as she leans in to show me some cute boys standing on the side of the road as we drive through Baltimore. They are waiting for the crosswalk sign to change. “Check out the meat market Lacey."

I roll my eyes, "OH.MY.GOD. Becca!" I say using a lou
der voice. Becca looks hurt and shocked at my outrage.

"What? There isn’t any sexpectation
.” She smirks.

"Becca, I agreed to come out, I didn't agree to harass the male population."

"That really hurt," she states full of sarcasm.

Yeah, I know how that fee
ls. I hurt too, though it was by Caine’s dishonesty, and not something my best friend said. She knows I was being a smartass. The hurt from Caine is deep because I was too blind to the cheating blood oozing through his veins. Caine charmed me with his good looks and smile. I know I have to let him go, but I don’t want to. I miss him. How can you fall out of love with someone, even if he is a big jackass?

"Hello? Earth to Lacey
... come in bitch... do you copy?" Becca is screeching at me, with her brown eyes wide.
Oh dear.
“Can you please stop doing double nickel and drive it like you stole it? For God sakes, we’ll be ready for the nursing home by the time we get there.”

"Sorry. I must have zoned out for a minute." I make a silent plea for her to her drop it. Knowing my best friend as well as I do, she knows what I'm thinking.
Crap.
My fingers are grabbing the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are white. Why the hell do I want someone who has hurt me? Why do I miss him?

"You need to just clear your mind girl. I know you are tired of my assvice
but seriously, there is no room for that thing, we thought was a gentleman, in your head anymore," Becca gripes. Yep, so much for sneaking my thoughts past her. She's an amazing friend. "What the hell?" Becca's stare snaps me out of my trance. It's an intense stare boring holes into me.

Uh oh.
"Sorry, I don't know what's gotten in to me. I won't daydream anymore." I try to reassure her. Thank heavens we’ve arrived at the club, because I can’t take her theatrics anymore.

"Come on Lacey, I’m ready for some serious eyeolating
. I haven’t violated a guy by checking him out with only my eyes in forever," she says, getting out of the car. We round the front of the car and walk up to the familiar warehouse together arm in arm. The line isn’t as long as it typically is, though arriving an hour later than usual might have something to do with it.

“And what the hell is eyeleting?” I ask.

Becca laughs, “No it’s eyeolating. Lacey, eye-o-lat-ing.”

“Wow, thanks for treating me like a fucking child because I don’t speak 'Becc-lish
’.”

I am so happy to step foot in the club. I hand the bouncer my license that states my correct age. I’m driving and not really in the mood to drink. I want to keep my wits about me. The last thing I need is m
ore drama. This is my first time clubbing as a single lady since leaving Caine. Well, since I’ve decided that Caine and I are through. He has a different opinion on that matter, but I will make the message loud and clear on Tuesday.

We’re at Orpheus, which
happens to be the same club where I met Caine.
Shit!
It’s one of the six decent clubs in Baltimore and Becca had to choose this one. The bar smell fills my nostrils, causing them to explode like dynamite; and I wonder if I should have used my fake ID to help the emotional battle going on inside my head. I guess it’s for the best since I don’t want to wake up next to a stranger tomorrow, or allow some animal to paw up and down my body on the dance floor. Alcohol would surely contribute to unnecessary heartache.

I’m going out of my mind and I need to get on the dance floor to release some of these pent up endorphins. I’m not really sure about anything other than my need to dance. It sets me free, like a medication prescribed for my dilapidated heart. I glance up at the DJ who is working his
sets that I’m sure he put together days ago. Recognizing this DJ’s style in particular, I smile, knowing I will like the set list he prepared.

Regardless of how this club reminds me of Caine, I truly enjoy it. It’s a smaller venue where the music, lights, and crowd allow me the opportunity to hide and let go of myself. I know it's only asking for trouble sometimes, but it feels like I can let the real Lacey free from her
every day, proper life.

I could watch the dance off show
that some of the guys put on for the longest time with their fancy footwork. Girls join in to show their moves every so often. It fascinates me. Most people refer to them as hip-hop battles, where each person’s foot and bodywork become more impressive and intense than the next. I don’t call them battles, but dance-offs, because they are informal jams. In all the times I’ve been here, the dance dialogue has never become violent, which has been known to happen in hip-hop battles.

I love having my head fille
d with the loud, deafening music. I close my eyes and give an open invitation to the music to dictate the movement of my hips. I’ll never get tired of the way it feels when the music travels through my body. I have a hard time staying in one spot. I twist around and open my eyes to take in my surroundings, and glance around every so often to see who is dancing near Becca and me. Sometimes one of us will need to run interference if a guy is gets too daring on the floor. Most of the time, it only takes a shake of our heads to let the guy down. However, if they don't get the hint, then we haul our asses to the ladies room, praying they aren’t standing outside the door waiting for us when we emerge.

I am a hot and sweaty mess after about an hour of dancing my ass off. It felt so good and I’m glad Becca forced me into coming tonight. After taking a break to down a bottle of water, I get
back on the dance floor to 3OH!3, ‘Starstrukk’. Listening to the lyrics, it’s very fitting to the scene before my eyes. There are daisy dukes, tight outfits, and so much more that the song is alluding to. But most importantly, I will not use the word ‘love’ loosely again.

I spin around and suddenly lock eyes with someone new. Holy Mary mother of Jesus, the sight of him is refre
shing. He's fucking hot. Not tamale hot, fucking smoking hot. He has piercing blue eyes, a medium build and is nicely muscular. Not the overachieving muscles found at all the local gyms or on the guy who recently wasted too much of my time. Ugh, I need to stop thinking about that asshole. Don't get me wrong, this guy appears to work out, but I can tell he isn’t infatuated with his looks. He is clean cut and his presence is sending my body into flames. His clothes are a little more preppy than I normally find attractive, like trust fund baby groomed. It doesn't matter, his eyes captivate me, and I have to look away, as my eyes burn from staring too long. Moments later, I am hyperaware of his closeness. He moved to begin dancing with me. We shuffle to the music together and it’s amazing. It feels so nice to have his arms wrapped around me as we dance. I feel the tug and I’m on fire with in every part of my body that makes contact with him. He isn’t trying to feel me up or even push his hard on into my back, as Caine would. It’s nice to see he respects boundaries.

Is that how guys brought up in a five star lifestyle treat women? I’m not interested in the extras that come with that sort of lifestyle. I can clean, so why have a housekeeper? I can drive, so why would I have a chauffeur? I can cook, so why would I have a personal chef? I don’t understand the way some people live without using the easiest God-given talents they were born with. Maybe this guy isn’t like that and perhaps I should just let g
o and allow myself to feel the heat between us. After all, I’m still trying to get over Caine.

The guy pulls me off the dance floor and I realize he wants to talk. We move as far away from the speakers as we can. “What’s your name?” Mr. Blue Eyes asks.

“Lacey, what’s yours?”

“Devon. Can I get you something to drink?”

Oh dear, Caine never offered to get me something to drink the night I met him. Ugh, I need to stop comparing him with others. “Water would be great.” I smile and he leads me over to the bar to order a water for me, and a beer for him. Okay, he’s clearly twenty-one years old, unless he’s using a fake ID and I don’t think he is because he looks older. He hands me my water and I thank him. We walk over to where we were talking before. It’s a strain to hear each other. “Are you in school?” Devon asks.