Bent Not Broken (A Cedar Creek #1) (36 page)

I stayed rooted to the floor as I listened to Cal ending the call.

“Right. Later.”

I heard him walking towards the corner and stilled, I stayed rooted.

My heart hammered in my chest.

My eyes were wide and stared into nothing, filling with tears.

My lips trembled.

My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides.

My breath came in rapid pants.

My unseeing eyes started seeing again when they saw Cal rounding the corner with Stella at his heels, coming to an abrupt halt a few feet from me. Even Stella stopped short, probably reading the vibe. I turned my head and met his eyes. He flinched, then took a step towards me, but my body reacted and I stepped back.

“Shit. You heard,” he said. His voice was laced with horror and regret.

Oh yeah. I heard.

I said nothing. Just stared at him.

“Ivey, baby—” he started, but I put my hand up, palm out to stop him.

“You know,” I whispered low and cold. I saw him flinch again at hearing my tone. He held my eyes, then nodded.

“You know,” I whispered again, harsher this time.

“I know,” he confirmed warily.

“Everything?” He studied me for a few seconds, then his eyes turned sad and he nodded again.

“Everything, baby.” I closed my eyes in an effort to control the pain that was threatening to slice me wide open.

“How long?” I asked with my eyes still closed.

Nothing. Cal stayed silent. I opened my eyes.

“HOW LONG, CAL?” I screamed.

“Baby—” he tried to advance on me again, but I took another step back and he again stopped.

“Don’t come near me. Tell me how long you’ve known, Cal.” I wasn’t screaming now. My voice was low and controlled. And hard. Cal heard it. He knew what that meant.

“Since our first Monday,” he said on a sigh. His hand was raking through his hair in frustration. “Ivey, baby, you gotta understand. I had to know what I was dealing with. Those panic attacks…They scared the shit out of me, baby. I had to know how I could help you beat them, what I needed to do to let me in. I had to understand why you had them.”

I was aware that he was talking, but I didn’t hear what he was saying. I was stuck on the fact that he had known since our first Monday. The day that he had come to my house for lunch for the first time. The day that I had felt safe enough for the first time in my life to completely let go. The day that I had given him all of me.

And all of that had been based on a lie.

“You’ve known this whole time,” I was back to whispering, the pain too much. It was choking me. I was shaking my head as a defense mechanism, trying to block out his words. My eyes were again unseeing. So I didn’t see it when Cal came towards me. Thus, I didn’t react. I didn’t react until he had his arms around me and was pulling me tight against his body. He was talking to me, but again I couldn’t focus on what he was saying, didn’t want to hear what he was saying.

He had lied to me. For real this time. He had lied to me for weeks. For months.

And that hurt.

With a mighty heave I pulled out of his arms and took a few quick steps back in the direction of the front door.

“That was mine to share, Cal. That was not something that you could take because you feel entitled to that information. It was mine to
give
, not yours to
take
. You asked me to trust you. No, you
vowed
to me that you would always protect me, that you wouldn’t let anyone ever hurt me again. And I gave you that trust. I let go of the hurt and pain and let you in all the way. I entrusted it all to you, Cal. And you betrayed that trust. You betrayed that trust by going behind my back. And what’s even worse, when I shared some of my past with you, you didn’t give me any indication that you already knew everything. Which means you lied to me. For weeks you lied to me.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Yes, Cal. I would have told you. I was just trying to figure out how. Sharing that by letting some asshole into my life, by being too blind and too stupid to realize that he is an asshole, I am responsible for letting him beat me half to death and killing my baby doing it, is not something that’s easy to share. I carry that guilt around with me every day. It’s eating at me every day. But I was starting to let it go. So yes, Cal, I would have told you.” Cal’s face had softened, then tensed again.

“Do not take that shit on, Ivey. None of that was your fault.” I didn’t agree. But he would never understand, so there was no use in discussing this. I had to get out of here. Get out of here and try to get my head together. There was just one more thing I needed to know before I could go and make that impossible attempt.

“Who told you? Was it Macy? Larry?” My chest got tighter at the thought that my best friend was in cahoots with my boyfriend and hey had both betrayed me. Cal read me and immediately eased my mind by saying, “No, baby, it wasn’t Macy or Larry. I would never do that to you, would never put them in a position like that.” The tightness in my chest eased as relief washed through me.

Right.

Time to get out of here.

I turned around, walked to the front door, and grabbed my purse that was sitting on the table in the front hall. My hand on the doorknob, I felt Cal’s presence behind me. I knew he was going to stop me from leaving. But I needed to get away. If I gave him the chance to hold me in his strong arms that had always felt nothing but safe, I knew he would be able to talk me around. Letting his strength and his sweet words overwhelm me was the last thing I needed right now. What I needed was to think, away from all that. Think and sort out my head.

So I stopped him.

“Don’t,” I hissed. “Don’t, Cal. I need time to think and you’re gonna give it to me. I don’t know where we’re going from here or if there is still a future for us. I need time to figure it out. And I’m gonna do that away from you.” I said this without looking at him and when I was done, I opened the door, walked through it, then closed it behind me, and went to my truck.

Cal let me go. He was going to give me what I asked for and didn’t come after me.

That was a relief.

At the same time it wasn’t.

Cal

Cal stood in the front hall of his house staring at the front door that had closed behind his woman five minutes ago. He was furious with himself. So furious that he knew the slightest twitch would make him lose control. So he stood there, his breathing hard, until he got his shit together. And when he moved again, he went straight to his bedroom to finish dressing. Socks, boots, plaid shirt over his thermal.

Then he took out his phone again and called his office to inform them he wouldn’t be coming in today.

He was going after his woman.

She said she needed time away from him to think and he had let her go. But he didn’t have it in him to actually
let her go
.

The way she had left worried him. She hadn’t been ruled by her emotions. Had been almost rational, considering the circumstances. Rational and cold. The hurt was clear in her eyes, was clear in every feature of her face, but she hadn’t let that rule her actions. Not completely. Instead of storming out of his house in a rage or in tears, she had been scarily calm. Too calm.

So he was worried that she was already distancing herself emotionally from him, that his betrayal went too deep. She said she didn’t know where they were going from here. Or if they even had a future. As if there was a possibility that they were over.

There wasn’t.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

He would fix this.

But the thing that almost worried him more was the fact that Ivey held herself responsible for that asshole beating her up and killing her unborn child. She was carrying a guilt that wasn’t hers to shoulder. And he had a feeling that that had been the reason why she hadn’t told him about it. That she was afraid he would judge her and hold her responsible as well. He was going to have to disabuse her of that notion. In no way was she responsible for the death of her child, nor was she responsible for falling in love with a supreme asshole and letting that love blind her to who he really was.

So he was going after her. They were going to talk. She would understand and they would make up. Then he would help her heal.

There was no other option.

He would make her forgive him, make her see that they needed each other, that they were strong enough, that nothing would ever be able to break them apart. They were going to get through this. Then they were moving in together, getting married, and starting a family.

Yes. That’s what was going to happen.

His second call went to Bane. When Bane had told him that Parker was in the wind, he had also told him that he had a bad feeling in his gut. That’s why Cal had lost his mind and had forgotten that Ivey was in the house and could potentially hear his conversation. Bane was on his way down here. Which was not a good sign. It told him that there was a chance that Parker was coming after Ivey. And that made his gut churn and his chest tighten.

He needed to get to his woman. Make sure she was safe. Make sure they were okay.

So fifteen minutes after Ivey left his house, he locked Stella in her kennel, then he was in his truck and on his way to the other side of town.

Fifteen minutes that he would soon learn were fifteen too many.

Ivey

I was going home. I needed to be in my house, needed the comfort it provided to settle me down and let me think. Let me figure out the war my brain and my emotions were fighting inside me.

The betrayal.

The lies.

It all hurt too much.

Logically, I could see where Cal was coming from. In a way it was even sweet that he did what he did because he felt the need to protect me. Felt the need to avenge me, the need to eliminate a threat and make me safe.

But that didn’t cancel out the fact that he had lied to me. For months. That he had kept lying to me even after I had opened up to him about my past. Granted, I hadn’t given him all of it, but since he had already known everything, he should have said something then, should have told me that he already knew everything.

I understood now why he had given me that strange look this morning in bed when he had told me he wanted to make babies soon, why he had studied my face so intently. He had waited for me to say something, to tell him about my miscarriage. And I had wanted to, but didn’t think the moment had been right. Now it was too late.

When I made the turn at the end of town that would lead me up to my house, the tears that I had tried so hard to hold at bay were blurring my vision, then spilled over and ran down my cheeks. A sob was crawling up my throat, clogging it, strangling me.

By the time my house came into view, I was crying and sobbing so hard I didn’t see the car that was half hidden by the trees by the side of my shed. Lost in the pain with the only focus of getting inside my house, I didn’t realize that my front door was unlocked. I collapsed on my knees in the foyer, wrecked by the ferocity of my sobs, not feeling or seeing anything around me, so lost in the fear that I had just lost my only chance at happiness that I didn’t sense the danger until it was too late.

“Baby, baby, baby,” I heard someone say close to me and I froze. I knew that voice. It had haunted my dreams for years. Slowly and hesitantly, I lifted my head.

Terror.

Absolute terror filled me at who I saw standing not two feet away sneering down at me.

Kyle.

I scrambled to my feet and tried to make my way back out the door, but was stopped when two strong arms wrapped around my middle. I could smell his breath when Kyle pressed me against the door with is body as his lips came to my ear.

“Ran away. Thought you could hide from me. There is nowhere for you to hide, baby, no place I can’t find you. I’ve played it smart. Did my time. Been straight since I got out. But I never forgot, baby. I never forgot who put me in that hellhole. Never forgot that you betrayed me. Now you’re gonna pay. You are at my mercy, baby. I have told you before. You have nowhere to go. You. Are.
Mine
.”

It was all coming back to me.

Everything.

The terror.

The pain.

The loss.

I was drowning in it. I couldn’t breathe.

Still, I fought him. But it became clear pretty quickly that I didn’t have a chance in hell at getting away. His hold on me was tight. My arms were trapped against my body. Useless. So I bucked and heaved and kicked and screamed. We crashed into the small table in the foyer, tipping it over, making everything on it scatter across the floor. He let me go but whirled me around and backhanded me across the face with such force that I fell to my knees.

It stung.

I could taste blood on my lips.

Another blow.

This time a kick to my ribs.

I howled in pain and wrapped my arms around me.

A hand in my hair, twisting, then pulling my head back sharply and viciously, arching my neck.