“Fuck,” I spit out. I turn to look her dead on, and say, “I’m gonna kill that f**ker.”
“Jase!”
“What the hell happened?” I need to know what he did to her.
“Don’t.”
“Candace, you have to tell me.”
“Please, don’t,” she cries, and I know I’m scaring her, but I’m losing control.
I stand up and walk out to the balcony, slamming the door hard behind me. Rage is cutting through my veins, and I can feel it seeping through every inch of my body. Leaning my elbows on the railing, I let my head fall, and I focus on taking deep breaths as I cry. I need to calm the hell down because the look in her eyes, the fear that’s there . . . I can’t f**kin’ do that to her. As much as I hate it, I know I have to put it aside and be exactly what she needs me to be. I’m all she has and the only one she isn’t hiding from.
When my head starts to clear, I sit back in one of the chairs and watch the sun begin to rise. My eyes sting, and I can’t stop crying. I know I can’t go back in there until I have myself in check. I try to keep my focus on Candace instead of Jack because just the slightest thought of him makes my skin burn with disgust. What kind of sick f**k would do this to someone?
When I finally walk inside, Candace is curled into a little ball on my bed. She looks so broken. I slide behind her, and wrap her up in my hold, whispering in her ear how much I love her and how sorry I am for scaring her. I know she can’t hear me, but I don’t have it in me to wake her up, so I just let her sleep.
Waking up, I notice Candace isn’t in bed with me. I blink a few times and can feel that my eyes are swollen from how upset I was earlier this morning. When I walk into the kitchen, I see Candace standing there watching the coffee pot percolate. I walk straight to her and cup her head in my hands. Looking down at her, all I say is, “I’m sorry.”
She nods her head, and I draw her in and just hold her. When the coffee is done brewing, we break our hold on one another and pour our mugs of coffee and sit on the couch.
“I didn’t mean to push you earlier this morning. I just don’t know what to do here.”
Cradling the mug in her hands, she whispers, “I know.”
She doesn’t look at me; she just stares down at the ribbons of steam drifting off of her coffee. I watch her for a minute before breaking the silence. “I think you should stay here until you’re ready to go back home.” I want her here more for my own peace of mind. I’m worried about her nightmares, and I want to make sure I’m with her when she sleeps.
As she takes a sip from her mug, she finally looks up at me. “All my stuff is at home. What if Kimber’s there?”
“How about we just drive over there, and you can get your car and come back here while I pack a bag for you? Just tell me what all you need, and I’ll get it.”
Letting out a sigh, she says, “Thanks. I think she might be in class this morning, so . . .”
“Go throw on some clothes and let’s just go then.”
I can tell she’s nervous when we start driving down her street, so I reach over and hold her hand, which is cold and clammy. She stares out the window, not looking at me, and quietly says, “He knows where I live, Jase.”
I turn to look at her, but she’s looking away. If I could keep her with me forever, I would, but I know I can’t. “He won’t hurt you,” I say, but I don’t even believe my own words. Will he? Would he be stupid enough to come to her house? My gut tells me that he will stay away, but what if he doesn’t? She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t either.
Candace is already on her way back to my apartment, and when I’m done packing her bags and leaving her house, I shoot her a text.
Got everything you asked for and more. On my way home.
Thank you so much. See you in a bit.
Walking into the apartment, I see Candace in the bathroom as I start unpacking her bags. When she comes into the room, she starts putting her things away and I sit on the bed and, watching her as she moves around. She seems so hollow when she used to be all smiles and laughs, so full of life. She has a pained look on her face, like she’s using all her strength not to cry. I wish she would; I wish I could make her—drain her of her misery—but I can’t. She’s so closed off.
“Stop,” she says, and I snap out of my thoughts.
“What?”
She comes over and sits down next to me on the bed. “Stop looking at me like that.”
I deflect her thoughts when I say, “You know Kimber’s going to flip when she comes home and sees that a bunch of your things are gone.”
“I know. What am I going to tell her?” she asks as she lies back on the bed.
I lie down with her and say, “We’ll figure it out.”
When the tears fall from her eyes, I reach down and hold her hand, squeezing tightly as I stare into her eyes. They are so swollen and bloodshot; I know they have to burn.
She curls up and rests her head on my chest. It isn’t long before I feel myself falling asleep.
“Oh my God,” I hear a man say, and I’m slowly pulled out of my sleep.
“What the hell happened to your face, honey?” I roll over at the sound of Mark’s voice. When I open my eyes and see him looking at us, I shoot up next to Candace, who is already sitting up and hiding her face in her hands.
Needing to get him out of the room, I say, “Um, hey. I’m sorry, but could you give us just a minute?”