He called her and left a few messages.
Nothing.
He texted a couple times.
No reply.
Sitting at his desk in the office of Blake Industries, Gavin picked up his phone again for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Placing it back down, he leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers beneath his chin as he carefully assessed the disturbing feelings that were taking root inside his head. Something was wrong. Even if Emily was still sick, he knew he should've heard from her by now. However, the calmer side of his brain told him to relax. There could be several reasons explaining why she hadn't gotten back to him yet. Considering she had missed a day of work, it was quite possible she was busy trying to catch up on other obligations.
Yes. That's what he would go with for now.
Nevertheless, as the morning dragged on, blurring into the late afternoon hours, Gavin was sure he was just trying to convince himself that something wasn't right. Though his physical body was forced into several business meetings, his mind was in no way present during any of them. His thoughts became consumed and sickening scenarios clenched around his heart with every passing minute that he didn't hear back from her.
After completing a conference call with a potential client, he rose from his seat and moved across his office, wondering what the fuck was going on. Peering down at the chaotic city streets as rush hour crept over Manhattan, he decided to shoot Emily another call. Before he could, his secretary's voice traveled through the intercom, cutting clear through his troubled thoughts.
"Mr. Blake, you have a Dillon Parker here to see you."
Turning around, Gavin stared at his office door. Although a steady stream of adrenaline rocked through his system, his demeanor showed nothing but calmness. Before he answered her, he slowly walked over to his desk, and with unhurried movements, he peeled his suit jacket from his body, laying it across his chair. In the same breath, he loosened his tie and casually rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Every male instinct in his mind screamed that his friend knew he and Emily were together, and Gavin had a feeling that his unannounced visit was about to become very...interesting. Gavin was more than aware that a jail cell might very well be his sleeping quarters this evening. Drawing in a slow breath, he stretched his neck, squared his shoulders, and hit the button to the intercom.
"Go ahead and send him in, Natalie. Thank you."
With his jaw clenched, Gavin watched as Dillon entered his office, both men locking eyes on one another the second the door closed.
After a few moments of thickening tension, Dillon finally broke the silence, his tone low but his expression hard. "What you did is fucked up."
Crossing his arms, Gavin leaned against his desk as he stared Dillon down from across the room. "Maybe if you treated Emily the way she's supposed to be treated, I wouldn't have done it. Ever think of that?" he asked, his voice measured, but his thoughts weren't even close. Between thinking about the way he'd grabbed Emily and the fact that she had gone against his plea by saying something to Dillon without him being there, Gavin was ready to draw blood.
Dillon remained as still as stone. "I shouldn't have to think about anything, bro. You had no fucking right doing what you did."
"I might not have, but what's done is done," he stated firmly, reducing the distance between them by half. "Perhaps I need to reiterate it for you. If you'd treated her the way a real man treats his woman, maybe things would be different for you right now."
"I was drunk. I would've never touched her if I wasn't," he said, his eyes still glued to Gavin's. "You fucking sucker punched me. That wasn't fucking cool, man."
Gavin rubbed at his chin absently. It was apparent to him that Emily hadn't said anything yet. "Wow, that's original. 'I was drunk,' so that makes it okay?" He didn't let Dillon respond as he continued, "So let me get this straight..." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're here to talk shit to me because I knocked you out for manhandling Emily the way you did?"
"Yeah. Why the fuck else would I be here?"
Gavin decided to skirt over that particular question with one of his own. "What the fuck are you really here for?" he asked, his brows furrowed. "Because let me make myself very clear about the way I roll, Dillon. If I would've seen you do that to a dog - let alone Emily - I would've still done the same thing. When have you ever known me to sit back and watch a man do that to a woman? Tell me because I'm honestly fucking curious now - and quite amused by the whole fucking thing."
Dillon's granite expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Look, I don't want to argue with you. I'm - "
"Oh, you don't?" he interrupted. "It sure as fuck seems like you do. If you can't understand why I did what I did, then there's no reason for us to continue with this conversation. And if you're going to use that pussy excuse of you being drunk to dismiss what you did to her, then there's definitely no reason for us to continue this conversation." Gavin pointed across the room. "The door's right there if you're going to play that card with me."
Dillon stared at him a moment, his eyes narrowing again. "Like I said, I don't want to argue with you, Gavin. I'll admit I messed up, and I told Emily I'm going to make things better." Gavin cocked his head to the side, wondering exactly when they'd spoken since Emily had told him she wasn't answering his calls. However, he remained quiet and let Dillon continue. "The problem I'm having here is that you seem to have a bigger fucking problem with what happened than my own fiancee does."
"Fiancee?" Gavin asked, trying to ignore the cracking in his voice and the sudden spike in his body temperature. "She broke up with you."
"Yeah, but I talked to her, and the wedding's back on."
Dillon continued to speak, and although Gavin was staring straight into his eyes, he didn't hear him. He couldn't. Swallowing hard, Gavin's ears stung from Dillon's announcement, its insidious whisper settling like acid in his lungs. Searing pain - deep and brutal - pumped through Gavin's veins, manifesting itself like a deadly cancer.
Lifting his arm, Gavin slowly ran a nervous hand through his hair. "The wedding's back on?" he asked, his voice low, bleeding with confusion.
"Yeah, man. I just went through the whole thing with you. It's back on," he replied, a hint of confusion tainting his tone as well. Dillon let out a breath and shook his head. "Look, I get it, okay? You're right. I shouldn't have used the drinking as an excuse. Though I remain firm that you shouldn't have hit me, I'm willing to forgive you."
"You think I need your fucking forgiveness?" Gavin snapped, still trying to recover from the hurt anchoring itself in his chest. "You have some balls coming to my fucking office, telling me that you're willing to forgive me. You're lucky I'm not knocking the shit out of you right here."
"See, this is what I'm talking about. I'm trying to smooth things out with you, and you're acting like a fucking lunatic. What the fuck, man?"
Gavin glared at him for a long moment as flashes of Emily flooded his mind. Crossing his arms, he turned and walked over to the window. The sun had long since made its descent below the buildings, and a full moon had taken its place. Inhaling deeply, Gavin nodded. He was in no way being benevolent, and he sure as shit wasn't forgiving Dillon. His sole purpose was to end the conversation and get to Emily in whatever way he could.
Therefore, he would play the game.
He vaguely remembered her saying that she was covering a dinner shift tonight at Bella Lucina. Just as he did so many months ago, he would pay her an unexpected visit. However, this time he would go to her a very broken and very confused man looking for answers.
He just hoped he would find them.
"You're correct, Dillon," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion that it shocked even him. "I am acting like a nut." He turned and faced him, his facial features smoothing into unreadable impassivity. "If you're able to forgive me for doing what I did, then, surely, I can get over what you've done to Emily."
Gavin carefully watched as the guard in Dillon's eyes seemed to evaporate into thin air.
"Okay, so we're good then?" Dillon asked.
Crossing his arms and without a word spoken, Gavin simply nodded.
"Alright, cool," he said, looking down to his watch. "I'm going out for a couple of drinks with some buddies from work. I think we both could hammer back a few after this. Why don't you come along?"
"I have some business to attend to," he replied, his voice even. "Very important business."
"Well, if you get done early enough, I'll be at Ainsworth Prime over in Penn Plaza."
Gavin nodded, and with that, Dillon walked over to the door to make his way out.
"One more thing," Gavin said, walking across the room, his voice low.
Dillon turned to face him.
Gavin pinned him with a look, and in that moment, he knew his expression told all. "If you ever touch her again, I'll fucking kill you with my bare hands."
Cocking his head to the side, Dillon returned his glare and went to speak but didn't. He shook his head and walked out the door.
As confusion rolled off his body in waves, Gavin took a few minutes and tried to compose himself. His body shook as he tried to breath. Still in shock at what was happening around him, he moved across his office and sank himself into his chair. With Emily's words tumbling around in his head, it was no use. Composing himself was unobtainable. His head pounded, and his vision blurred. Emily swallowed him whole, lied about wanting a future with him, and spit him out once Dillon came back. Not capable of waiting any longer, Gavin closed his eyes for a beat, inhaled a breath, and dug his keys from his pocket. He rose from his chair and stalked from his office. Hurt, anger, and pain tightened his chest with every step he took. He knew it would be a few hours before Emily's shift ended, but when it did, he would be there waiting for her.
"Country," Antonio said, approaching the table where Emily and Fallon were sitting. "If your side work's complete, you can get out of here."
Emily lifted her eyes to him as she screwed the top onto a salt shaker. She nodded. "Thanks, Antonio."
"What about me?" Fallon asked, tossing a wrapped piece of silverware into a plastic bin.
"You're out of luck, kid," he chuckled. "You're the scheduled closer tonight."
Fallon pouted her lips. "Come on, Antonio. It's pouring outside, and I've only had two tables in the last three hours. It's already eight. It's so dead in here right now; you could handle the place on your own."
Shaking his head, he mumbled something in Italian and walked away.
Fallon smirked. "I guess I should take that as a no?"
"I'm thinking that's a safe bet," Emily quipped, rising from her seat. She gave her neck a stretch and untied the apron from her waist. "Is Trevor picking you up tonight?"
"He sure is. We're going bowling later," she replied, beaming a smile.
"That sounds cool. Have a good time." Emily made her way over to the coffee bar to retrieve her purse. After ducking out from under the counter, she found Fallon standing right beside her, her expression filled with concern.
Emily looked at her suspiciously.
Twirling her black hair in between her fingers, Fallon hesitated before speaking. "Trevor told me you took Dillon back."
"I did. We worked things out," she replied, walking over to grab her jacket off the coat rack. "Why are you bringing it up now?"
"Well, I didn't want to upset you during your shift."
"Why would that upset me?"
Fallon cocked an incredulous brow. "Come on, Em. I know what happened with you and Gavin."
Emily tried to ignore the pang of hurt in her chest when she heard his name, but it was no use. It ricocheted through her system. She slipped on her jacket and gave Fallon a questioning look. "How do you know what happened between us?"
Fallon blinked her gray eyes and shrugged. "Olivia told me."
"Of course," she sighed and started heading toward the door. Turning around, she zipped up her jacket, slung her purse over her shoulder, and let out another sigh. "Well, I'm fine," she said softly, lying as smoothly as she could. She wasn't fine. She was a mess, and by the look on Fallon's face, she was pretty sure Fallon could tell she was.
Fallon approached her. "Why are you marrying him, Emily?" she asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Emily's features morphed in shock at her question. "Fallon," she let out exasperated, "what do you mean why am I marrying him?"
"I think the question is pretty straightforward, Country." She dropped her hand from Emily's shoulder, her voice low. "Why are you marrying him when you're in love with Gavin?"
Bewildered by the breakneck pace of the conversation, Emily figured she would answer as truthfully as she could. "I think the answer's pretty straightforward, Fallon. I'm marrying the man who loves me. I'll talk to you later," she said, setting off at a brisk pace toward the door.
"Emily, wait!" Fallon called out.
Emily held up a silencing hand, and reached for the door.
As she opened it to leave, her breath caught when Gavin's brilliant blue eyes locked on hers. Shock rushed through every limb in her body, settling like heavy steel in her chest. She stared at him as he leaned against his car, uncaring of the cold rain pelting down around him. With his arms crossed, Gavin's eyes raked over her from head to toe, and if Emily wasn't mistaken, they showed something akin to anger. Momentarily, confusion crossed her features, but it quickly faded as anger of her own set in. Though she didn't want to deal with any bullshit excuse he was about to spew out of his mouth, there was no hiding this time. She needed to face this - face him. Pulling in a quick breath, she gathered her nerve, composed herself, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"Ah, there she is. The girl who's smashed my heart to pieces," he said, his voice loud and menacing over the rain. "Was that your sole purpose in all of this - breaking my heart? Because if so, you've thoroughly accomplished that. "
"How dare you say that to me!" she yelled, her anger welling, bubbling deeper now.
"How dare I say that? I was nothing but a fucking reprieve for you while he was gone!" Uncrossing his arms, he stepped forward, flinging his hands aloft in complete surrender. "Is this some kind of fucking joke?" he laughed with no hint of amusement in his voice. "I took that pretty face for many things, but I have to admit a sick little player wasn't one of them."
Emily's mouth hung agape. The frigid rain had nothing on the tenacity he had showing up and accusing her of being a player. That alone had her nearly frozen in disbelief. However, she decided to remain quiet. If he wanted to play games, she would allow him, but she would win at the end. Something inside her screamed to let him bury himself. She crossed her arms as defiance shimmered in her eyes, inviting him to his own funeral.
And Gavin would take the bait because that look in her eyes nearly drove him mad.
Though she ripped his soul from within his body, not touching her wasn't an option. Not kissing her was impossible. He had to kiss her right there as the rain fell around them. Gavin moved to her with the fluency of a tiger attacking its prey. Before Emily could stumble back a few steps, he captured her by the waist and brutally crashed his lips over hers, his tongue parting them while she tried to push him away. For a second, she could taste his anger, aggravation, and possessiveness - and, damn him, if it didn't confuse and piss her off more. As he sucked the rain clear off her bottom lip, lightening flashed above, its booming sound cracking to the earth in the distance.
"Are you fucking crazy, Gavin?" she hissed, jerking her head back as she tried to wiggle her way out of his hold.
"Am I crazy? Like a fool, I had faith in you - in us!" he growled, his voice rising, barely controlled, as he gripped her waist. He looked into her eyes, watching the beads of water trickle along her lashes and down her cheeks. "When did you take him back, Emily? Answer me that fucking question!"
Puddles pooled around their feet, and rain-soaked commuters dashed past them.
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest, with mutiny bold in her eyes. "I took him back about an hour after you left my apartment!" she hissed, her voice malicious in her attempt to cut every piece of him to shreds. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly in place. "I took him back an hour after you brazenly hovered over my body and told me that you loved me!"
Glaring at her viciously, his hand came around the nape of her neck as he pulled her face within inches of his, their noses brushing. She felt his hot breath fan over her cold cheeks as her chest rose and fell. "You were awake when I was there?"
"Oh, I was awake and very well as a matter of fact," she laughed maniacally, her words dripping with rage.
Gavin couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing. Surely, this wasn't the same woman he was with only a few nights before. He'd heard of people being deemed temporarily insane, and in this very moment, he was completely ready to drive her straight to the nearest psychiatric ward.
No. Questions. Asked.
"How seriously twisted can you be?" he growled, his expression thunderous. She went to speak, but he cut her off. "Did you fuck him last night, Emily?" Her breath hitched, and her body heated as he tilted her neck back, his hand fisting the back of her hair. He grazed his lips over the corner of her mouth. He then slowly slid them to her ear, the slight stubble on his face brushing against her flesh, his voice a hot whisper. "And if you did fuck him last night, did he feel as good inside that beautiful pussy as I did? Was he able to make you beg for more the way I can?" He gently nipped her earlobe, nearly melting her right there. "And one final question for you, doll. Did you come as hard with him as you came for me?"
As the fierce downpour assaulted the pavement, her eyes narrowed on him, her heart exploding with grief and anger all at once. He loomed over her with their drenched clothing clinging against their bodies, their breathing heavy. "He made me come harder!" At this, he looked shocked - hurt even - but it didn't stop her. "He felt just as awesome inside of me as your dick felt buried inside of Gina!"
With furrowed brows, Gavin reared back. "What are you talking about?"
"Gina," she clarified slowly, her voice venomous. "I came to surprise you yesterday morning with breakfast, and it turned out the surprise was on me. Looked like you already ate. Your bed sheets were still warm from the two of us, and she opened your door practically naked. Give me a fucking break!" she screamed, watching as his expression shifted to one of unease.
Gavin knew her eyes were her enemy, betraying her in so many ways, but he also knew his actions by letting Gina in had caused the battle. God help him if this was a battle he was about to lose Emily over.
Tread.
He knew he had to tread lightly. The woman before him was broken and hurt, but his mind was frozen. He couldn't seem to formulate his words quickly enough.
His lack of a speedy reply seemed to confirm what Emily knew to be true. He knew he'd been caught, and he had no idea what to say. Before Gavin could register what was happening, Emily brought her hand up and smacked him hard across his face, the sound pitching over the pelting rain.
He staggered back slightly - completely stunned.
"You bastard!" she yelled, uncaring of passerby's watching their exchange.
She glared daggers at him and went to smack him again, but his hand darted forward and caught her by the wrist.
"You have to listen to me, Emily," he breathed out, his voice firm. She tried to yank her wrist away, but he pulled her into his chest. With his free hand, he smoothed the wet hair away from her face. "She was already gone by the time I got out of the shower. I had no idea you were there." Emily's eyes widened as she tried to pull away again. "No, wait! Fuck! It's not at all what you think!"
Still trying to release herself from his grasp, tears spilled from her eyes. "Is that the best you could come up with?" she huffed, affecting a wicked sneer.
Trapped.
She felt trapped under the glare of those beautiful blue eyes, and she wasn't about to let him suck her back under their spell. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm falling for that one! You can't lie your way back into my heart, Gavin. I hate what you did to me, what you did to us, and most of all, I hate you!" Part of her froze when those words tumbled from her mouth because she didn't hate him. She couldn't. She loved him - loved him clear to the bottom of her soul. However, everything she knew he'd stood for from the second she'd met him was everything he'd proven himself to be.
Gavin recoiled as though she hit him again. His heart sank as shock shifted to realization that he may have lost her - and losing her meant he would lose himself. "You don't hate me. You love me," he choked out, not trying to hide the pain that was ready to crush him. Lifting his arms, he held her face between his hands, stroking the pads of his thumbs over her lips. "And, Jesus Christ, Emily, I love you with everything inside of me, with everything I am, with everything I'll ever be. Please. Don't leave me like this, knowing if I just hadn't let her in, this wouldn't be happening right now. She came to my house, and I shouldn't have let her in. I know I shouldn't have, but she was drunk, and her - "
"Stop!" she blurted out, shoving her hand viciously against his chest. It worked because she finally released herself from his hold. Stepping onto the curb, hot angry tears rolled down her cheeks as she flared her arms in the air in an attempt to hail over a taxi. With curtains of rain falling from the sky, her efforts went unnoticed as drivers sped past, drenching her body further.
Approaching her, Gavin felt lightheaded, hollow, and empty. He took her firmly by the elbow and spun her around. Their eyes, both equally dripping with hurt, bore into one another's. Bringing his arms up again, he cupped her cheeks and lowered his forehead against hers.
"You have to believe me," he whispered harshly, his voice laden with pain. "She passed out on my couch. I slept in my fucking room, and nothing - nothing at all - happened." Now sobbing uncontrollably, Emily tried to back away, but Gavin moved his hands to the back of her neck and held her in place, his forehead still pressing against hers. "I told you that I'd never hurt you, and I meant it. I meant every fucking word. Please don't do this to us...please. I'm not lying to you. I'm not him. I'm not Dillon."
Feeling trapped in the darkness of his gaze, Emily's heart paused as she watched tiny droplets of water trickle down his face - down to those perfect lips that had worshipped every inch of her body. Those perfect lips that had also worshipped another woman's body after she'd left. Now her tears came in a torrent as the thought of what he had done hit her with brutal force.
Shaking her head, she took several steps back, her eyes glacial. Turning around, she raised her hand to hail a taxi again, and to her surprise, one pulled right over. She reached for the handle and swung the door open. Gavin's hand quickly slammed against it, effectively keeping it shut.
"Let me get in, Gavin!"
"No. I'm not letting you go," he said, his voice booming. "You don't believe me?"
"I'm not kidding! Let me in!" she commanded again, the viciousness of her tone startling them both.
Running his free hand through his soaked hair, Gavin gritted his teeth. "You'll believe the fucking lies he tells you on a daily basis, but you can't believe me?"
"Oh, now you're really reaching," she scoffed, trying to remove his hand from the door. "He's not the one who's lied to me!"
"Goddamn it, Emily!" he snapped. Abruptly, he caught her by the waist and hauled her up tight against his chest. She sucked in an indignant breath as she stared into his eyes. "Don't mistake my pleading with you as a weakness; I'm no asshole. I told you I'm not lying, but if you think for one fucking minute, he hasn't - or that he's not - then there's seriously something wrong with you."
"Hey," the now impatient driver called out. "Is she getting in or not?"
"Yes."
"No."
They both quickly yelled in unison.
Gavin's angry eyes snapped to the driver. "She's not getting in. Leave. Now."
With a pissy look in his eyes, the man shook his head and sped off.
"I can't believe you," Emily cried out, tears streaming down her face. Each one of her tears crashed around Gavin's heart. She lifted her hands and pushed against his chest, but he secured her with his steely arm around her waist. "Why are you doing this to me, Gavin?"
"Because I fucking love you, and I'm not lying," he answered, his breathing ragged and harsh. "Tell me right here and now that you don't love me, and I'll walk away. I'll walk away, and you'll never have to see me again." With his free hand, he tilted her neck back. He dipped his head and started feathering his lips against her temple, down her cheek, and along the curve of her jaw. Emily couldn't help it, but a light moan left her lips. "You'll never have to feel me touch your body again, Emily. You'll never have to hear my voice in your ears again. You'll never have to wake up to me by your side again. Tell me right now that you don't love me, and I'm gone...forever."
Emily was shaking inside, but she wouldn't show it. If she let anything slip through, she would break down, and that couldn't happen. Though every fiber in her body wanted to believe him, she didn't. This was a carefully thought-out skit that he was trying to manipulate her with. He was an actor on a stage, perfecting his skill, and Emily was his sole audience. Now it was her turn to send his heart straight into the crematory where hers now lie.
"I don't love you," she said, lying through her teeth. That lie was literally ripping her apart. Her eyes dripped with tears as she stared into his. "I told you I needed to get you out of my system, and I did. That's all that night meant to me."
Another lie.
However, there would be one truth that left her lips. "And I don't believe a word that you've said."
Gavin winced and held back stinging tears. Her parasitic words - each one of them - sucked the air straight out of his lungs. She took his heart, ground it up, and turned it into crimson paste right before his eyes. Struck nearly fucking speechless, he took a step back and released her from his hold.
"Thank you for the permanent scar," he whispered, his voice broken and defeated. Without another word, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to his car.
Cupping her hand over her mouth, a wounded cry escaped Emily as she watched him pull into traffic, his tires screeching against the wet pavement. With her heart sinking in her chest, she waved a taxi over. Hands trembling, she pulled the door open, slid in, and let the driver know her destination.
Tonight, sleep wouldn't be either of their friends.
Tonight, loneliness, hurt, confusion, and pain would visit both Emily and Gavin.
