JACE (Lane Brothers Book 3) (19 page)

As I stand in front of Bee’s floor-to-ceiling mirror and take in the nurse’s outfit she’s picked out for me, I think about the fact that it’s only available because Bee herself can’t wear it. The damned thing’s way too big on her rapidly shrinking frame.

“Goddammit, Bee, what the fuck is going on with you! You look like you haven’t eaten a good meal in months, and your hair’s starting to fall out. I swear to God, you either break up with that asshole or I’m calling your brother!”

I know that yelling at her right now is not a good idea. She looks so fragile I’m afraid to breathe too heavily around her, and yet I can’t stop myself now.

I haven’t seen Vincent in two days, thanks to some cockamamie business thing in China, and I’ve been using this time to try and talk some sense into her.

Instead of acknowledging that her relationship with Eric has fallen into unhealthy territory, she’s been alternately defending him or giving me the cold shoulder.

The last straw had been this morning, when I’d walked into the bathroom and seen her naked, skeletal body. That bastard is killing my best friend with his controlling ways and bullshit, and I refuse to watch her become a shadow of herself just because he’s suddenly decided the woman he’s loved for years needs to change to fit his new mold.

“Sissy, please, you don’t understand!” she wails, covering her face with her hands to drown out her sobs.

“What? What could you possibly say that will make this right? He’s been controlling you for months now, without anyone noticing. God, when I think back on all those times you blew me off and— Is Eric the reason you haven’t called your brother lately? Gavin is gonna flip when he sees you.”

She cries harder, and I force my temper down in an effort to provide some comfort. Throwing the nurse’s outfit to the floor, I shimmy back into my shorts and tank and lower myself to the bed, taking her into my arms.

“Bee, you can’t spend your life trying to be what Eric wants. I know you love him, but it’s not healthy to let him control everything about your life, and you know it.”

“I don’t understand!” she wails, trembling against her sobs. “He’s been so great since we met in college, and then he gets that new job and all of a sudden I’m too immature for him. He said I dress like a teenager and that I was getting fat and… What should I do, Sis?”

Telling her what to do in her relationship is not a good idea, not when she’s loved the guy for over four years of her life, but I can’t just shrug and tell her to make her own choices. I can clearly see and feel her bones through her skin, so obviously she’s not in a place to make the right ones all on her own right now.

“You call that asshole and dump him, Bee, and then you and I are going to the doctor to get you checked out.”

I spend the next hour listening to her argue and cry as she tells Eric she won’t see him anymore, and then I bundle her up against the chilly weather and grab a cab to the doctor’s offices.

“Well, you’re severely undernourished, Miss Parker and from what your friend tells me I understand that your weight loss has been very rapid. We’ll need to get you on some vitamins and an eating plan. I’d also like you to write down exactly what you have been eating lately, and quantities, if you can remember. Your hair loss isn’t too bad considering, but I’d like to put a stop to that before your hair thins too drastically.”

By the time we’re done at the doctor’s—an hour and a half later and with the number to a shrink—I pull Bee into a cab and get her home as fast as I can.

If—no,
when
I see Eric Brennan again, I’m going to kick his balls into his throat for this. My best friend is a husk of the bright, bubbly woman she used to be, and I am so mad at him for doing this I can hardly breathe.

“Thanks, Sis,” she mumbles tiredly when I tuck her into bed and lay a kiss to her forehead.

“That shot the doc gave you must be some powerful shit.”

She smiles groggily and closes her eyes with a sigh.

When she’s sleeping I close her bedroom door and answer the four missed calls I have from Vincent.

“What the hell is going on, dove?”

“Sorry, Vin, I put my phone on silent when I went into the doctor’s offices and—”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Hurt? Patrick, I need a flight back to New York!”

I hear the panic in his voice and smirk. Yeah, this guy is so into me it’s crazy, and right now, knowing he cares enough to rush back for me, I know how seriously bad I have it for him. It’s scary as hell, and weird, to fall so quickly for a man like Vincent, but it’s there, and if this tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach is any indication, it’s not going away any time soon.

“Calm down! I’m fine. I took Bee to the doctor’s,” I rush to say, feeling tears fill my eyes along with the lump in my throat.

I’ve been fighting this need to cry since I’d seen what a wreck she really is right now, and now that she’s sleeping I let it overtake me.

“You should see her, Vin. She’s so thin I don’t know how I could have missed it. Jesus. I am the world’s shittiest friend.”

“Oh, love, no, don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re a good friend to Bianca. She’s just been very good at hiding things.”

“She told me everything this morning when I threatened to call her mom and—”

I tell him everything. How Eric’s been breaking down her confidence and trying to alienate her from everyone, including me. By the time I’m done I’m openly crying, and I practically hear him grinding his teeth at my distress.

“I’ll get a flight out—”

“No. You have another week in China, and…I think I need to spend as much time with Bee as I can right now. You do your thing, and I’ll call you if I need to.”

“Are you sure? I can get Havers to cover the remaining meetings.”

“I’ll be fine, Mr Blake, pinky promise. Now go take over the world or something. I have a landscape to finish, and my client will really ride my ass if I slack on the job.”

“Count on it,” he growls.

***

“Just turn it off and come here. The doctor emailed me your diet, and I’ve cooked you a good hearty meal of liver to get your iron levels up,” I yell to Bee from the kitchen.

I look down at the two portions of liver and shudder. The things I do for friendship.

“Jesus, that looks like dog shit on a plate.”

“Thanks a lot. I’m only the idiot who cooked it and has to eat it with you,” I mutter, dumping the pan into the sink and sitting down across from her.

From her pinched expression, I can see she’s about as excited about liver and onions as I am, so I dig in first.

“Okay, this is actually not too bad,” I say, surprised that a recipe off the internet has finally worked for me.

Okay, so maybe it’s not gourmet, and has a weird metallic taste that makes my belly roil, but it’s not making me retch. Yet.

“Can’t we just order Chinese and watch
Thelma and Louise
?”

“Nope. Doc said I have to watch you eat, and so here we are. Eat your liver.”

We both crack up at the sound of that and spend ten minutes swallowing without chewing. When I see that her plate is cleared I grab us each a virgin Bloody Mary and park us both on the sofa.

Halfway through
Thelma and Louise
I see her inch toward the bathroom slowly, and I just manage to stifle a snarl. Doc had warned me to keep an eye on her in case she starts upchucking her food, and it seems little Miss Bee is as predictable as all other bulimics.

“Sit your sweet ass back down on this sofa before I kick it into next Tuesday, Bianca Parker.”

I hear her groan and spear her with my deadliest look, the one that tells her exactly how close I am to losing my shit if she doesn’t obey.

Like the broken shadow she is, she slinks back to me and lies down, her head in my lap, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I run my hands through her long brown hair and grind my teeth when a few strands come loose.

“It’s okay, Bee. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

There’s nothing else to say or do but stroke her hair and pretend to watch a movie while grief and rage course through me. I’ve decided against calling the Parkers for the moment.

Bee is too fragile for them right now, and I’m quite frankly a little afraid of what her brother Jeff will do if he sees her this way. I don’t like Eric Brennan at all right now—in fact, I suspect I hate him—but I refuse to let Jeff go to prison for ripping that douchebag’s lungs out through his ass.

“He was so angry, Sis. I’m scared he’ll come here and… You haven’t seen his temper.”

She’s groggy by now and slurring her words, so she misses the evil grin that twitches at my lips, thank God.

“Vincent will rip him a new asshole if he so much as breathes near you, Bee.”

The next day is no better than yesterday, and I find myself selfishly wishing I’d let Vincent come back so that I could excuse myself, excuse the way I want to run from Bee and the mentally draining grief she seems cloaked in.

But I can’t, won’t do that to her. She needs me, and no matter how hard this is to witness, I know that I have to be here for her.

“Bee! Breakfast!”

I’m not that surprised when she comes stalking into the kitchen with a belligerent attitude and a bratty scowl that shoots daggers at me. I simply turn back to the stove and flip some bacon again, listening to her mutter about the coffee ban and the nutritional shake she has to slurp down with food she doesn’t want.

“Shut your mouth and eat your goddamned food, Bianca Parker. If you could listen to your dipshit ex-boyfriend for months, you can damn well listen to me. I at least don’t plan to slowly watch you starve yourself to death, dumbass.”

Her mouth drops open, and I watch in satisfaction as she gasps back air, speechless for the first time. Before I know it she’s shooting to her feet and in my face, her index finger drilling into my chest, right above my left breast.

“Now you listen here, Cecelia Bennet. Just because I’ve been an idiot for the last seven months doesn’t mean I’m willing to listen to you call me stupid all day long. If you can’t be nice, shut your goddamned mouth!” she yells into my face, the fire in her eyes so hot I feel my hair heat.

“That’s good to know, Bee. I’m glad to see you’re not a completely broken woman. That means you can start beating your problems without a potty partner every second of the day. Now, sit down and eat your breakfast while I grab a shower. If you puke it up I’ll just make more, but be warned: I’ll ram it down your fucking throat if I have to, and knock your ass out to keep it there.”

I see a shadow of a smile tip her mouth before she sticks her tongue out at me and returns to her breakfast. She sips her shake and glares, pasting a patently fake smile to her lips.

“Mmm, delicious.”

“Oh good, then you won’t mind drinking it at lunch or dinner,” I say cheerily, laughing all the way to the bathroom as she curses me to hell and back.

I step under the spray and let the soothing heat of the water relax my tense muscles before soaping myself quickly and rinsing off. I trust Bee about as much as a serial killer at a birthday party, so I hurry through my routine and dress, making it back to the kitchen in just over ten minutes.

“Calm down, Mother, I ate it all and even finished that slime shake,” she mutters, flipping me the bird to show her annoyance at my lack of trust. “So, what are you up to today?”

I pour myself an orange juice—another friendship sacrifice I’m making besides the liver—and lean back against the counter.

“I have to swing by Vern’s and collect my checks for the paintings he sold, and then I thought I’d take you shopping for clothes that actually fit your thin ass.”

Tough love, baby. Tough love.

“You also have your first appointment with your shrink at three, so I guess we have a pretty full schedule for today. You’re gonna be so happy I made you eat that breakfast, bitch. You’re gonna need your strength to keep up with me.”

“Oh really?” she snorts. “You forget I’m a full year younger than you, Grandma. I can run circles around you no problem.”

I hide my smile and refrain from telling her that this excursion is on doctor’s orders. Bee has to start getting out and not hide in the apartment all day when she’s not working—another thing I need to ease her into, because she’s officially fired after I’d called Angie yesterday and told her Bee needed some time off.

Thank God I’m getting some money in from Vern and Vincent, or we’d be in deep crap.

“A hundred bucks says you’re crying for mercy by noon,” I taunt, sipping arrogantly at my juice.

Goddamn, I don’t know how people function without a cup of coffee in the morning.

“You’re on old lady.”

***

“You need to slow down, Sis, I can’t…”

I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and wait for Bee to catch up, her breaths wheezing as she grabs onto me and stands panting for breath.

I’d set a grueling pace the last hour, and though I feel a little guilty about pushing her so hard, I hold my hand out and point my finger at my palm.

“Pay up, sucker.”

“You are such a bitch. Have you been powerwalking in your sleep? Where the hell did you learn to walk that fast?”

“Stop dodging the issue. You lost, now pay me my money.”

Her face falls slightly before her eyes narrow and pin me, making me feel as transparent as the windows in my studio at Vincent’s. I feel like she knows exactly what I’ve been doing, that I’m pushing her to her breaking point on purpose, and I feel like pond scum.

But it has to be this way. I need her desperate, bleeding a little, so that when she goes to her first appointment with that shrink she won’t be strong enough to bullshit the guy. Bee is a class-A bullshitter, and I know that head-shrinker won’t stand a chance unless I open her wounds a little.

“Sis, you know…I don’t have any money.”

“Then you need to offer an alternative. No, wait, I already know what I want,” I say, flagging down a cab.

When we’re in and headed to the shrink’s office, I turn back to her.

“All I want from you is one thing, Bee, one tiny thing. If you can do that for me I’ll consider your debt paid. If not…” I shrug and meet her eyes with a hard stare. “I’ll call Jeff and he can take over from here.”

She stiffens for a second before the fight leaves her and then nods her head once.

“I want you to swear to me that you will never see, speak to, or be in any kind of contact with Eric, ever again. Not a text, note, phone call. Nada.”

I see the tears that spring into her eyes and shimmer there and feel like the worst heel, like I’ve kicked a defenseless puppy. Of course this is hard for her. She loved—still loves—Eric, no matter how much she knows that’s not smart.

But I’ve decided that her shrink can coddle her. I’m going to be the whip that cracks against her ass every time she tries to veer off course.

“That’s worth a lot more than a measly hundred dollars.”

“Okay, then pay me and we can move on.”

“Christ, you’re like a dog with a bone, you know that? Fine, I promise I won’t have anything to do with him again. Satisfied?”

“Yup. Now stop pouting, Bee, your head’s about to be shrunk.”

We exit the cab, me carrying the shopping bags filled with her new clothes and a little something I picked up from VS, just for Vincent. It takes a lot for me to sit in the waiting room and ignore her silent pleas when the doctor comes out and ushers her into his office, but I hold myself steady and watch her shuffle away, her shoulders drooped in defeat.

My phone rings, and I smile.

“How did you know I needed to hear your voice right now?”

He chuckles, and I hear what sounds like a satisfied purr. The man loves it when I get all feelingsy on him. Marshmallow.

“I couldn’t go another minute without hearing your sweet voice. And setting up a phone sex appointment for tonight, of course.”

The receptionist glares at me when I laugh, so I leave the bags and stand, making my way outside into the chilly air.

“Phone sex, huh? That sounds interesting. Will there be mutual gratification involved?”

“Of course. I’m a giver, dove. I always aim to please,” he drawls, making me tingle all over.

“You should see the gift I got you today.”

“A gift?”

I hear the excitement and interest in his voice and giggle. Vincent loves being pampered, something I’ve only recently caught onto.

“Yeah, and I think you’ll love it, too. So, six more days?”

He sighs, and I regret my words immediately. I hate coming off as the whiny girlfriend, but I miss him. A lot. Way more than I should, considering how short our relationship has been.

“Yeah. I’ve been in back to back meetings here, and I leave for France tomorrow. You’re coming with the next time I have to leave for so long.”

“As long as you don’t stick me in a hotel room and leave me alone.”

I hear murmured voices and his soft cursing.

“You’re busy, Vincent. Go back to work. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay, dove.”

It’s weird that that’s the way we say good-bye. I feel a little bereft not saying some corny shit like “I love you” or even “be safe”, but we are so not there yet, so I settle for his soft regret and end the call.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

I turn, stepping back slightly, expecting a passer-by to shove past me and continue, only to come face to face with a man that looks almost exactly like Vincent, only shorter and washed up and definitely not half the man my guy is.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Preston Blake. I’d like to speak to you for a moment if I may?”