The fuck?
I knock again, and this time the door swings open, and Jules is there, but instead of a big smile, she’s crying.
“Whoa. Baby, what’s wrong?”
She’s got her phone to her ear, but I don’t care. I immediately pull her against me, rubbing my hand up and down her back.
“No, don’t let him do that.”
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
I know exactly who she’s talking about.
If this motherfucker ruins this for me, I’ll hunt him down and kill him myself.
“I don’t care how you have to get in there, break down the fucking door,” she yells as she pulls out of my arms and stomps into her bedroom. I’m right behind her.
And to my complete horror, she starts to pack her suitcase.
“You’re not going back today,” I tell her, but she’s shaking her head, ignoring me. “Juliet. JULIET.”
Her head snaps in my direction, and her face crumples. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hang up the phone, Jules.”
But she ignores me and keeps talking into the device, and my blood starts to fucking boil.
“What was that noise? Did you break down the door? Good. What’s he … oh, shit. Fuck! Call the ambulance. I’m on my way.”
“No. You’re not.”
She’s tossing things into the suitcase, not even glancing my way, and it pisses me the fuck off.
Taking her phone from her hand, I end the call, toss the phone on the bed, and take her by the shoulders, turning her to me.
“Why did you do that?” she demands.
“You just got here, baby. You’re not going to turn around and go back to Seattle.”
“Brooks, I’m so sorry.” She leans her forehead against my chest and fists her hands into the fabric at my sides. “I miss you so much, and I needed to see you. But Justin tried to kill himself this morning, so I need to get home?—”
Shit. Not this again.
“Youarehome.”
“You know what I mean.”
Shaking my head, I pace to the other side of the room and turn to glare at my girlfriend. The love of my fucking life. The one person in this world who knows me inside out and loves me anyway.
“Eight people live in that house, Jules. He has people to help him.”
Justin has been one of her roommates for the past two years, and I hate the fucker. He manipulates the hell out of my girl, and she refuses to see it.
He’s the reason she went back to college early at Christmas.
He’s the reason she ends our evening calls before either of us is ready.
He’s the reason for every fucking fight we have.
