Staking Her Claim...: Book 1 in the Patricks' Brothers series (18 page)

“No, fuck you, Aly. Get the hell out of my apartment and lose my number. Find some other asshole to service you and put you up in his place, because I’m done. I’m just fucking done,” he snarls.

Jonas has never spoken to me like this, but seeing as I can almost hear his heart breaking, I suppose I can’t be too surprised at his outburst. I only hope that when he calms down, we can talk about this rationally, and maybe remain friends. It’s not looking
i
, though.

I dressed quickly, not wanting to draw out my departure. I pull on my jeans, bra and shirt all while Jonas is standing at the foot of the bed pacing like a caged lion. Fury rolls off him in waves, consuming everything it comes into contact with. Finished with my socks, I slide my feet into my boots and retrieve my purse from the chair in the corner of his bedroom.

Right now, I’m glad I refused Jonas’s repeated offers to leave a few things at his place for the times I came to visit. The last thing I would have needed after this was to have to run around collecting my personal crap.

Ready to leave, I turn and face him for the last time. His face is frozen in a blank mask that does nothing to hide his disappointment and pain. My heart breaks for him, but as much as I’d like to comfort him, I can’t. This is the way it has to be.

“I’m sorry, Jonas. So, very, very fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. No matter what you think, that wasn’t what I intended to do. Not ever. You might not believe me now, but I hope one day you look back on this and realize, I did love you. We just weren’t destined for forever. Or not the forever you wanted. You deserve so much more than I can offer you, Jonas. You deserve
everything
.”

Walking away from Jonas that night was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Not knowing whether I would ever see him or speak to him again was a bitter pill to swallow.

Our separation was of my own making, sure, but that didn’t lessen the devastation I felt when I left his apartment without so much as a backward glance. I couldn’t look back, because if I did, I knew there was a chance I would cave. That I would give him what he was asking for. Not because I should, but because I could barely stand to see him hurting the way I knew he was as he watched me get in my car and drive away.

It was two and a half years until I spoke to Jonas again. After I was injured and sent home to finish my hospitalization stateside, Jonas visited me once. Only once. What he said, when he sat beside me holding my hand, gave us both the closure we needed, opening us up to the possibility of friendship one day.

“I’ve thought a lot about the night you left over the years, Aly, and when I heard you’d been hurt I knew I needed to come and see you,” he said in the rough, rich voice I loved. “You fucking destroyed me that night, but as bad as that was, nothing compared to not having you in my life at all. Hearing you’d nearly been killed and I was the dumbass who hadn’t reached out to you because I was too proud to admit part of what you’d said had been true, was like a kick in the guts. A kick I needed.”

Shaking his head sadly, Jonas goes on to say,

“I loved you, I think I still do, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t right when you said we weren’t destined for forever. I shouldn’t have pushed you when I knew you were gonna shut me down. And I did know you were gonna shut me down that is. But I’m glad I did. I don’t regret it because I needed to hear you say the words so it’d sink in. I’d been ignoring the signs for months. How you would change the topic when I brought up the future. The way you would distract me when I talked about marriage and kids. They were all signs, and I ignored them all. The biggest one was, how you told me you loved, though, Aly.”

Smoothing my quirked eyebrow with his thumb, he laughs. A throaty, rough timbre echoing off the walls of my tiny hospital room.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds. “Every time you said the words it looked like you were in pain, Aly. Honest to God, physical pain. I didn’t get it then,” he says shaking his head ruefully. “It took a while, but I think I understand now. You really loved him, didn’t you, Sugar. You loved him and he tore you to pieces, taking the best of you when he left. Am I right?”

That’s the thing about Jonas and me; we were always honest with each other, to our detriment sometimes. This would be one of those times. I knew all about his first love, Monique, the woman who got away. And he knew about Rob. We hadn’t hidden our lives before we met each other, we didn’t hide them like dirty secrets. That wasn’t the kind of people we were.

Not having the emotional strength to answer, I reply with a nod.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he mutters softly. “I get you couldn’t give me what I needed from you because you didn’t have it in you to give. Your heart is still so wrapped up in his that you don’t have it in you to give anyone a shot. It’s not only me, but it'll also be every man who comes after me too. I was just the poor bastard who loved you second, that's all.”

“I’m so sorry, Jonas. I’ll never be able to tell you how much,” I cry.

Wiping the tears that have escaped my eyes away, Jonas cups my face in his palm smiling at me sadly.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Sugar. I saw you were damaged the day I met you, but I chose to get caught up with you anyway. That’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should’ve left well enough alone, been your friend, a shoulder for you to cry on instead of trying to make you mine. That’s what I’m offering you now, though. I want to be your friend, Aly. I miss you. I miss talking to you, hanging out, shooting the shit. I miss other things about you too, but you don’t want to hear about that,” he states wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“Maybe not,” I grin in response. “I don’t think friends discuss each other’s ‘special places.'”

“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “So, do I take from what you just said that you want a friendship with me, Sugar? I’m not much to look at, I work crazy hours, and we’ll be separated by a thousand or so miles, but I can promise you if you need me I’m only a phone call or thirteen-hour drive away.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

And that’s the story of me and Jonas.

There were a lot of good times, interspersed with the bad, and we formed a bond that we still share. A bond I felt like I was violating with the feelings I was having for another man I should have had for him. Which was why I felt I had to call him and tell him about Rob’s sudden reappearance in my life.

The phone shrills half a dozen times before a sleep-roughened voice snaps,

“This better be fucking good or you’re ending up dead.”

“Nice to talk to you too, shithead,” I yell loudly. I can tell Jonas is still wasted from the night before, and seeing as it is only six in the morning in, Furnace, he’s probably damning me to hell right about now.

“Fuck, Sugar. Dial it down would you? Hangovers are a bitch at my age,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re getting old and all that jazz. I’ve never met a man who needs his ego stroked as much as you do, you know.”

“That’s not the only thing I’d like stroked, but I’ll settle for hearing your pretty voice for now.”

“Fuck, really?” I screech, forgetting all about his hangover. “I would tell you that you’ve got two hands, but I’m sure you wouldn’t appreciate that piece of advice at this juncture. So instead, I’ll tell you to find one of the beautiful, sweet girls in town and ruin her for all other men, Two birds, one stone. You get taken care of, and you might even get a regular, exercise partner out of it. Of the casual, horizontal variety of course. Because God forbid, Jonas find a woman for more than a single night of debauchery,” I say only half joking.

“That sounds like one bird, two stones, Sugar, but I like where your head’s at,” he chuckles. “Why are you calling my drunk ass so early anyway? Everything good on your end?” He says more seriously.

“Everything’s fine if you ignore the little matter of a blast from the past making an appearance and fucking with my mojo. That aside, I’m okay,” I sigh.

Rustling of sheets followed by a loud crack, signals I’ve got his full attention now. I can envisage his rolling over, stretching his massive body while his joints pop and crack. That’s the curse of being a tattoo artist. Hours hunched over a workstation, tracing, designing, or slinging ink comes with its fair share of physical wear and tear.

“Oh, yeah?” He asks. “Who’s giving you a hard time, and do I need to beat their ass?"

Giggling like a school girl, I snort,

“While that’s an attractive offer, I’d sooner kick his ass myself. But thank you anyway.”

“You’ve got me curious now, so spill it or let me take my old ass back to bed and get a few more hours sleep before I have to open the shop.”

“Rob,” I breathe.

Not finding anything humorous about my admission, Jonas yells,

“You’re fucking shitting me,” followed by a pained groan.

Disguising my hilarity at his self-inflicted pain, I cover my mouth to hold in a laugh.

“Nope, not shitting you at all. I bailed his ass out of a tight spot and Brookes told me to bring him home. I didn’t know he was into collecting strays but apparently he is.”

“What do you need from me, Sugar?”

Good question. I don’t know what I needed from Jonas, only that I had to call and tell him. After all, Rob was the reason our relationship had stagnated and eventually ended.

“It probably wasn’t necessary and I don’t need anything per se, I just thought you should know. I wanted you to hear it from me first. Not that anything is going on between us, and honestly, I don’t think there ever will be, but I’d feel horrible if you found out about him being back from anyone other than me.”

Exhaling heavily, Jonas grunts.

“I do not like the way that sounds, Aly. You sure there isn’t more to it than that? You were hooked on the guy for years, shit, I think part of you still loves him. So I’ll ask again. You sure there’s not more to him being back you’re not telling me? You’ve gotta know, we’ve been broken up for years so if there is, you’re not stepping on my toes. I might love you, but we aren’t in love, Babe. That leaves you open to exploring shit with him if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, no, maybe. Hell, I don’t know. I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the fact he’s even here, let alone figuring out all the feelings I have for him. I mean, it’s been years Jonas. Shouldn’t I be over him by now?”

“I don’t have an answer to that, Aly,” he growls. “And if you don’t either, then all I can say is proceed with caution because I don’t want to see you get fucked over by him again. I wasn’t around the first time, but you told me how badly he hurt you, and the last thing I want is for you to have to suffer at his hands again.”

Raking his fingers through his hair agitatedly, Jonas grunts,

“In saying that, I’m not telling you not to explore whatever feelings you’ve got for him because that’d be a mistake. I firmly believe we all get one great love in our lifetimes, and he was yours. You’d be stupid not to open yourself up to the possibility of this going somewhere. I know you Aly, and I know the risk you’d be taking if you did that, but I think the reward would be worth it. Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to do anything straight away, just mull it over and make a decision when you have.”

That is why I love Jonas. In one phone call, he was able to help me make up my mind up regarding a choice I’d been agonizing over for weeks. Do I, or do I not open myself up to rediscovering a friendship, or hell, more with Rob given the opportunity?

The answer was, yes. But for now, I would just have to wait and see if Rob would come to the same conclusion. Little did I know, he already had, and it would be later that day he’d make his move…