Home to You (37 page)

“I know what I saw!” My voice was harsher than I intended; I glanced down to the table and squeezed my eyes shut. “Sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it. I know he’s your friend, but I know what I saw, and I can’t let that happen to me again…”
 

She grabbed my hand across the table and squeezed. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I just hate seeing my friends hurt.”

I nodded, grabbed my coffee, and took a sip. My chest ached with a tension that wouldn’t go away, and I searched my mind for a way to change the subject. “Rick offered me a new position.” I looked up to assess her reaction, but her face showed nothing.
 

“I’m going to take it. It’s not exactly what I wanted to do, but I really need a steady income now....” My voice trailed off, and I began to trace the grain pattern of the wood table with my finger.
 

“What will you be doing?” she asked.
 

“I don’t know. Some kind of freelance work I think. I’ll find out more when I talk to him.”

My phone blared to life with new alerts, and my eyes flew to the kitchen counter. The device meant to connect me to the world now loomed like a snake ready to strike. I took another sip of coffee then walked to the counter and swiped through the messages from last night.
 

JAKE: I’m ordering dinner. Do you want pizza, or Chinese?
 

JAKE: Missing you like crazy. Come home ASAP

JAKE: Where are you???

JAKE: I’m getting worried. Call me.

There were three voicemail messages, but I scrolled past them to another text that came in an hour ago.

Jake: We need to talk.
 

My eyes shut.
We need to talk
. Those four little words I’d said to him only days ago. The same words that sent a feeling of dread down my spine every time I heard them.
 

Em cleared her throat behind me. “Everything okay?”
 

I opened up my voicemail and stared at the screen. “Yeah, fine.” But inside I was fighting a battle between heart and mind. Part of me wanted to lock myself in the bathroom and listen to the messages over and over, analyzing and obsessing over every word. The other side knew I wasn’t strong enough, that if I heard his voice now, I wouldn’t be able to walk away. Focused on the task at hand, I deleted each voicemail, my heart breaking a little more with each one.

An hour later, I sat in my car outside Jake’s house, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d driven by three times before I built up the nerve to stop. His truck wasn’t there, so I knew he wasn’t home, but a sense of dread consumed me.
 

I somehow managed to pry myself out of the car and slid the keys in the front pocket of the borrowed shorts. I’d lived there for almost a month, but now it felt like trespassing.

In and out, Katie. Just get what you need, and be on your way.
 

My hands shook as I punched in the code to the front door. The shutters were closed and beams of light shined through the wooden slats. A pizza box sat on the coffee table with a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to it. Something I’d never seen Jake drink before. His tortured eyes flashed through my memory, but I pushed myself forward, my chest aching with each breath. I didn’t have time to think about that now. I had the rest of my life to torture myself with that moment, but I was here for a reason, and I needed to focus.
 

The door to my room was open, and I quickly got the suitcase out of my closet. The whole house smelled of him, smothering me with the male, earthy scent that would haunt me forever. I tossed the case to the bed, unzipped the zipper, then froze. There on the nightstand was an empty glass. One that hadn’t been there before I left. I picked it up and held it to my nose. The scent of whiskey still lingered on the rim.
 

A photograph sat beside it, worn and tattered. I held it between my fingers and sank to the mattress. It was taken three years ago when Jake and I went to Disneyland together. Dave was supposed to have gone but backed out at the last minute because of the stomach flu. We’d just gotten off Splash Mountain and were both soaked to the bone.

 
I remembered it like it was yesterday. Jake had stopped an elderly couple to take our picture, then pulled me into his chest. I smiled at the camera, my hair and clothes plastered to my body and face—my heart beating a mile a minute. But Jake, he looked right at me. His smile wide and happy. His expression one of adoration and love. The old woman commented on what a cute couple we were, but I quickly denied it and pulled away...
 

The front door opened and I instantly stood. My breath caught in my throat, and I threw the photo to the nightstand, glancing around the room for a place to hide as boots hammered on the wood floor, moving closer, then stopped. I knew he was behind me, but I couldn’t bear to face him. Not like this, caught with my tail between my legs, sneaking into his house like a coward.
 

He cleared his throat, letting me know I couldn’t just stand there like a little girl playing hide-and-seek anymore. Ready or not, I had to face him.
 

I pulled in a breath and turned. His sandy blond hair was wild and unkept. His normally smooth face, now camouflaged by a thick beard. And angry, feral eyes skimmed over me. I gasped.
 

“Just give me the photos, Katie.” Kevin’s voice was low, calm, and chilled me to the bone.
 

My mind flashed to the conversation I’d had with Shelly, and all the blood drained out of me in an instant. “I—I don’t have them.”

“Stupid bitch!” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “Where the fuck are they?”
 

“Kevin, I—”

His hand slammed across my face, and I stumbled back to the bed. I wanted to cry, to scream for help, but fear kept me silent.
 

His ungroomed face was wild and terrifying. “You know exactly what photos. The photos that cost me my career. The photos that ruined my life.”
 

My cheek throbbed, but I ignored it, pulled myself from the bed, and backed toward the window. “I had nothing to do with that.” My eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out, or something to protect myself with.
 

“Bullshit!” He walked toward me, each furtive step like a cat stalking its prey. Then his lips curled in a smile. “No one’s here to see, no door to hide behind this time.”
 

I took in a sharp breath.
It was him.
That night on the other side of the door. Not a stranger, but the man I’d lived with for two and a half years.
 

His teeth flashed with a smile. “You’ve become a lot feistier than I remembered. I wasn’t expecting you to fight back.”
 

He stopped two feet away and yanked the top drawer out of my dresser. Bras and panties littered the ground when he threw it against the wall. “Where are they, Katie? In here?” He pulled another drawer. “Or in your little boyfriend’s room?”
 

I’d never seen him like this. Crazy and feral, a desperation in his eyes that sent a stampede of alarm coursing through my body. “I threw them away. I left everything in San Diego. It wasn’t me, Kevin, I wouldn’t do that to you.” My voice was calm, but inside I was frantic.
 

“Liar!” He came toward me, backed me into a wall, and stopped only inches away. “Don’t fucking lie to me!”
 

My hands flew to my face to protect against further blows, but his gloved hand blocked me and gripped my throat. “I’m going to take your life, the way you took mine.”

The front door slammed open and Kevin turned at the sound. I lunged toward the bedroom door, screaming for help, but my head yanked backward, and Kevin’s fist was in my hair. “Stupid slut!”

The bedroom door flew open and crashed against the opposite wall. Jake stood in the doorway, his imposing form heaving. In a second, his eyes flashed from me to Kevin. His jaw pulsed, and he charged toward us.
 

Kevin hurled me with both hands, and my head crashed into the dresser. The room began to echo, my vision blurred, and right before the world went black, I saw Jake push Kevin against the wall.
 

THE FIRST THING I REMEMBERED were the voices. Muffled voices like I was listening from the underside of a pool. I tried to concentrate, to focus on each syllable, but they were slurred and chaotic, and before long I was too exhausted to care. Then a low male voice boomed in the background—a familiar voice—and my body stiffened. My eyes fluttered open and darted around the room.
My room
. But something was different. Something wasn’t right.
 

An overwhelming sense of confusion settled in my chest. What was going on? Why was I on the floor? Who were all these people? And then Jake’s voice broke through the chaos, and I looked into his blue eyes. He squeezed my hand, his lips moved, but I was still under water. I couldn’t understand.
 

A man appeared above me and wore a navy blue shirt that I recognized as a paramedic. He shined a bright light in my eyes and the water cleared. “Ma’am, can you hear me? Can you tell me your name? Ma’am, I need you to tell me your name.”

His big brown eyes were covered by black-rimmed glasses, and I blinked up at him. “Katie. My name is Katie.”
 

Jake let out a relieved breath, and some of the tension eased from my body. The medic continued to ask more questions, easy ones, like counting backward from ten to one, but weakness crept up my spine like a splintering pipe.
 

“Katie, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, can you do that?” Jake hovered above me, his voice gruff and strained. I smiled up at his handsome face and nodded.
 

The medic lifted my head, and cold, hard plastic wrapped around my neck. My eyes locked with Jake’s and I began to panic.
What’s going on? What happened?
 

He squeezed my hand and told me to relax, that everything would be fine.
 

I was moved to a gurney, and the medic wheeled me out of the house and through the front gate. Red and blue lights flashed all around and emergency vehicles lined the street. Thrown over the back of one of the cars was a man, hands cuffed behind his back, head down and legs braced apart against the curb. He turned to me, his face beaten and bruised, a large gash under his left eye, nose swollen and bloody...
Kevin.

I looked up to the sky and the clouds above began to spin. My heart slammed in my chest as the memory of what led to this point played in my head like a movie. Kevin’s wild eyes, his hands around my throat, the fear that pulsed through me, and the inability to set myself free. What if Jake hadn’t arrived when he did? What if he hadn’t come at all? I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them again the last two days would just be some horrible nightmare. That I’d wake up in the hotel room in Carmel. That the attack, Grace, all the heartache could be washed down my throat with a cup of coffee.

A commotion of voices reverberated against the pavement and I opened my eyes. People I’d never seen before crowded the sidewalk. Watching, staring, like what I’d just been through was some sort of sick form of entertainment. We stopped at the back of the ambulance, doors open, and two medics made adjustments to the gurney.  

“Sir!” a police officer called from behind us, and everyone turned. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to get your statement before I can let you leave.”
 

He was talking to Jake, whose eyes immediately shot to me. “I’ll give my statement at the hospital.” His tone was curt, dismissive, but the officer braced his legs apart and spoke again.
 

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you do that.”
 

“She’ll be alone, damnit!” Jake’s lips pressed in a hard line, and his hand raked through his tousled hair.
 

With a feather-light touch he stroked my bruised cheek. “I’ll be right behind you. I’ll call Em. You’re going to be fine.” He kissed my head. “I’ll be right behind you.”