Chapter Twenty-Three
A chill swept up Skylar’s back, and it had nothing to do with the cooling September air. She leaned against the hood of her car and stared at the dark front porch. It loomed there, intimidating, horrifying. She’d already been standing there for ten minutes and still hadn’t gained the courage to walk up to the front door.
A shadow moved in front of the window, distorted by the fabric of the curtain. Jamie. She swallowed down the emotion even his shadow could invoke in her. She closed her eyes against the pain.
Skylar had talked to Emery for hours about the situation in Montana. They’d discussed the potential consequences if they went or if they didn’t. All that circulated in Skylar’s mind was the thought of so many people being tortured and victimized by Lucas. How many more Adams did there need to be? In the end, they had agreed it might be best to go. They loved Wolf Creek and the Shifters, but Skylar could never forgive herself if her choice destroyed the lives of a whole pack.
After being sure Emery was asleep, she left the house and drove straight to Jamie’s house. Yet she couldn’t bring her aching heart up the stairs to tell the man she loved she was leaving. Would it kill him? Would he beg her to stay? In a way, she hoped he would. It might deter her from leaving. If Jamie gave her a solid reason to stay, a reason to believe that their relationship meant something deeper to him, she could do it. Couldn’t she?
She dragged herself up the front steps, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. It sounded so loud to her ears, pounding, pounding, pounding. She held her breath. The heavy door swung open, and there he stood. Beautiful anger burned behind his eyes once he realized who was standing there. A twisted smile curved one half of his mouth, and he leaned heavily against the door.
“Well, whaddaya know,” he slurred, and the stench of alcohol poured out with the heavy words. “Make up your mind, sweet Skylar?”
She should leave. She should turn around right now, walk away, and say good-bye to him tomorrow. But she couldn’t. Instead, she stepped into the very drunk, furious, yet exquisite man, and tilted her head in stubbornness.
“Are you going to let me in, Jamie? Or are you gonna make me stand out here?”
Jamie’s gaze traveled down her body, and he licked his bottom lip in delight before taking another swig from the bottle in his hand. “Sure, why not?”
He adjusted his stance sideways, allowing her enough room to push into the house. Well, it was enough room for her body to rub across his the whole way over the threshold. Skylar’s breath caught in her throat, and she wished she’d worn something other than the thin gray dress. It looked warm enough to satisfy curious humans, but the material was extremely thin. The rub of Jamie’s jeans across her front had her wanting to stop and just kiss him; to just forget her decision and enjoy Jamie instead. But she couldn’t.
She forced herself to continue into the living room. His lights buzzed in the quiet room when he shut the door. Skylar wrung her hands together and looked around the room, as if she could find something that could make the situation more comfortable.
“Jamie—” she started, but Jamie interrupted.
“Don’t sugarcoat it,” he all but barked, the alcohol bringing out his usually hidden accent. “It’s not gonna come out any easier. You’re leaving, ain’t ya, darlin’?”
Skylar sighed, turning toward him and wishing she hadn’t. His knuckles turned white around the bottle even as he lifted it to his lips to take another drink. He arched an eyebrow in question when she failed to answer right away.
“I have to.” Her weak voice sounded tinny to her ears, her pulse robbing it of any real sound.
“Bullshit!” he yelled, pushing around her to set his bottle on the kitchen counter. She followed every angry step to the kitchen, and he finally whipped toward her. “You don’t have to do shit!”
No. She probably didn’t have to. She could probably stay, live with the pack forever, watch Emery grow up. She could be best friends with Cat and Jessica. But she would have to live with her old pack in the back of her mind for the rest of her life. She’d sacrifice the lives of people she’d grown up with to be happy with a pack that called her family. How selfish would that be? To, for once, make a decision for her own happiness. Her heart tugged. She wanted to stay with Jamie so badly; wanted him to convince her that everything would be all right if she just stayed with him. Why couldn’t he just say what she needed to hear?
“Jamie…” She wanted to placate him. To show him that she didn’t really want to go. She couldn’t be the first one to confess her feelings, though. It showed weakness. Vulnerability.
“Don’t Jamie me. God, you’re just like her,” he growled. His bare chest heaved in anger, and he clenched and unclenched his hands. He looked down at the floor, taking deep, calming breaths that caused his shoulders to move. “You know what? Whatever. You do whatever the hell you want. It’s your life.”
A sharp, jagged knife plunged itself into Skylar’s heart. And twisted. It ripped her to shreds hearing such cold words out of Jamie’s mouth. She loved him. God, she loved him. Yet the argument seemed pointless. He was drunk, and even standing by the counter his body swayed side to side.
You’re just like her. His words didn’t pass her by, and in a way it made her understand him a bit more. There was something there in his past he still refused to share with her.
Skylar swallowed, the motion feeling like balls of thorns sliding down her throat. She closed her eyes against the painful vision in front of her. “Okay, well, I came to tell you good-bye, Jamie. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Jamie’s shock rang through the single word. When she opened her eyes to look at him again, it was to see his own opened wide. He stared at her, mouth agape, hands limp at his side.
“Yeah. Caleb is taking a plane, but Em and I are going to drive the Bronco.” She dug through her purse, searching for her keys while she had the light to do so. Tears burned her eyes, making it difficult to find the damn things.
“Couldn’t get out of here fast enough, huh?” Jamie said, cold derision in his voice.
“That’s not true, and you know it. I love everyone here—the pack, the people. This is the right decision, Jamie. And I’m going to stand behind it.”
He didn’t hear the truth in her words, or he chose to ignore it. She wanted her love for him to ring in those words, for him to understand without her actually having to tell him. But the way he stared at her only showed her that he didn’t.
Her finger brushed the cold metal of her keys, and she grabbed them. “All right. Well…” She paused, hoping he would say something. Anything. “Good-bye, then, Jamie.”
Her heart jolted in her throat with the simple movement of turning around. Her feet dragged like lead across his wooden floors with each step toward the closed door. Her hand fought against the very motion of reaching for the knob.
She was whipped around, and hot lips slammed into hers. She gasped, allowing Jamie’s tongue to invade her mouth. She had no time to think, no time to realize what was happening. Her only reaction could be instinct, and her body knew the one slamming into hers. Her purse fell to the floor when she gripped the golden silkiness of Jamie’s hair. She moaned at the taste of vodka in Jamie’s mouth, sending her head spinning.
He was rough. Oh, so fucking rough. His fingers bit into her skin with every movement. He pushed her against the door, stealing her breath, only to give her his own with their kiss. He picked her up, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Everything was so quick. Her underwear was on the floor, ripped to shreds by his vicious and carnal movements. She was just along for the ride of anger and hurt that poured out of Jamie’s body.
Even when he surged into her, she knew he needed this more than she did. But she was going to take what she could get. This was going to be their last moment, and she clung to every groan that escaped his mouth. Her body gave in to the brutal beat of slamming into the door, the burn of his nails cutting into her thighs, the bite of his teeth against her neck. She screamed when the orgasm ripped through her, and tugged at his hair without mercy. He pounded harder, deeper into her core with each savage thrust. When he finally let go, he growled into her shoulder, releasing the anger and devastation she felt within her own soul.
* * * *
One amazing thing about being a Shifter—no hangovers. Jamie cracked his eyes open, barely registering the dim, gray lighting in the room. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was too early to be awake. Something settled into the pit of his stomach. Fear. Panic. Regret?
He stroked the rumpled pillow next to him, the evidence that he hadn’t been alone the night before. What surprised him was the remaining warmth. He looked around the room. The bathroom light wasn’t filtering beneath the closed door, and there were no sounds coming from the rest of the house. But he could still smell her. Was it in the sheets? She had to be gone. She said she was leaving today.
His heart panged, and he turned over, not wanting to see the pillow where her beautiful head had rested.
His heart stopped.
Skylar stood by the window, looking beyond the cold glass to something in the forest. A sheet from his bed hung loose around her body, draping precariously near the dip of her lower back. The light hit it just right, making it seem translucent, so he could make out every curve beneath the fabric. Her hair fell in rumpled curls down her back. It made him want to walk to her, kiss the smooth skin of her shoulder. He wanted to trace his fingers down the curve of that beautiful spine. But there would be no more of that. There would be no more touching, no more kissing, no more late-night phone calls and dinners with Skylar. He wasn’t even sure what his life would consist of without Skylar there.
He wanted to cry out. Yet he couldn’t convince his mind that it was logical to be that vulnerable, even though his heart wanted to hold on to her for dear life.
She turned toward him, and his breath caught. Her sad gaze stared into him, begging him to say the words that could tear him apart. But he couldn’t.
Skylar maneuvered around the room and put her clothes back on. Jamie followed her with his eyes, clenching the comforter tighter every time she slipped an article on. Her underwear. Her dress. Her socks. When she finally slipped her boots on, she looked at him one more time. The silver eyes that had enraptured him upon first meeting glared back at him, reflecting the same anger and pain within his own soul.
“Don’t go,” he begged, his voice quiet even as his heart pounded. Please don’t leave me. He stretched his figurative heart out on a limb, putting it in her hands.
“Come with me,” she responded. Silence hung over them as she waited for his answer. He couldn’t leave his pack, his family. He knew what it was like to abandon family because he’d done it to his parents after having his heart broken. He couldn’t do it again. He loved Killian like a brother and couldn’t imagine leaving his sister. She was destroyed the last time he did that.
“Good-bye, Jamie,” she whispered into the quiet room. The words echoed within him, tearing him to pieces like a dozen ricocheting bullets.
He looked away and focused on the window. Maybe if he didn’t see her physically leave…
Yet when the front door shut, so quiet and so loud, the remaining loneliness shook him as if she’d slammed it.
She’s gone. They always leave.