Hell.
Chapter Sixteen
Ellie
Jake finally gave in and climbed into my car. He was holding it in, but I could tell he was really unhappy about the call from his brother, and even unhappier that I was tagging along. I counted it a personal victory that I had stood strong anyway. It made sense to have another person on hand—one who wasn’t sporting a rib injury—to help with whatever was going on. But to go from the highs of having fantastic sex with this incredible lover, to the lows of accompanying this grumpy guy sitting next to me… It was like a bucket of ice had been thrown on my afterglow.
But I hadn’t caved. I kept repeating that to myself. I’d held my ground, even though he sat mute beside me except for a grunt and a couple jerks of his finger to indicate where I should turn.
Eventually I pulled into the parking lot of a bar named Howlers that was surprisingly busy, given that it was nearly two on a Sunday night. I put my car into park and dared to look at Jake’s face. It wasn’t as grim as it had been two minutes before. Now, though, I caught a note of terror in his eyes as he touched my wrist.
“Don’t come in. I’ll take it from here.” He gestured vaguely at the half-full parking lot. “That’s my dad’s car over there. I’ll just drive him home.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue with him. I had all sorts of logical reasons why he needed me, but none of them came out. Jake wasn’t coming from a rational place right then. All I had to do was look at the clench in his jaw to know that. So rational arguments weren’t going to do a damn bit of good. Instead, I patted his hand before popping open my car door.
“At this point,” I said, “I’m so curious that nothing will stop me.” Look at me for being so mature. I was facing down his rejection like a champ.
He grumbled something in response that I didn’t quite catch. It was definitely a curse. I just smiled as pleasantly as I could manage and headed toward the bar entrance.
The first thing I noticed when I entered was that the stereo system was playing the classic rock song “Band on the Run” at a deafening volume and that almost everyone was singing. There were maybe a dozen people there, all clustered around the bar, hoisting their drinks as they bellowed out the chorus. It was cheerful and immediately made me grin. But then Jake came in behind me, and everything changed.
The bartender noticed us first, and he called out Jake’s name. That brought the attention of a few more, and suddenly, no one was singing anymore. They just repeated Jake’s name and added “hero” or a Bobcat growl wherever they could.
It was funny and delightful, all those people saluting him. I turned to him with a grin that quickly faltered when I saw his face.
He wasn’t smiling. Well, not really. Sure, his lips were turned up and he raised a hand as if to thank everyone. But the tension in his jaw and shoulders told me just how uncomfortable he was here. Whatever was going on, he hated it. And that made me even more curious.
Pretty soon the song ended with everyone clapping and coming to slap Jake on the back. They all knew him, and since I was with him, there were quite a few people who hugged me and told me that when Jake was done with me, they’d be happy to help me nurse my broken heart.
Talk about awkward. Everyone assumed I knew Jake would dump me eventually and that was just the way the cookie crumbled. “The kid is a superstar,” an aging waitress said with a sly wink. “We all just watch in awe as he glitters on by.” She implied that I would do that, too. Sometime soon, I’d be standing on the sidelines as he moved on, too cowardly or too weak to fight for him. And frankly, odds were that she was right.
I still hated it and her. Talk about a crappy end to an evening that had started out so very, very well. Then I did my best to follow Jake as he steadily maneuvered to the back corner of the bar. It took us both a few minutes to get there, but eventually I found his target.
Jake’s brother, Larry, was leaning against the wall with a slightly sour expression on his face. That was the biggest difference between the two of them: the bitter twist to his lips even as he lifted a beer in salute to his brother. Beyond that, Larry was a little shorter and definitely broader. His hair was lighter, his skin darker. Or maybe that was just the darkness of his gaze. There was no brotherly affection in his regard that I could see. Just a cold bitterness that might have stemmed from jealousy or maybe something else. Either way, this was not the kind of loving sibling relationship I had with Rachel.
Still, Jake seemed to try. He nodded in his brother’s direction, his expression strained as he greeted the man.
“Hey, Lar. He being stubborn?” The “he” in question had to be their father. The man was half perched on his stool, half supported by the wall. His head was down on his folded arms, his salt-and-pepper hair standing up every which way.
Larry’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker at their parent. Instead, he gestured to a TV above them. “He saw the video, hero,” Larry said, sarcasm heavy in the word “hero.” “It freaked him out.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “You guys do that stuff every day.”
Larry nodded. “That we do.”
Well, hell, even I could read the jealousy there. There was no appreciation for the risk Jake had taken to save my life and Ben’s. Just an anger that he’d gotten publicity for it, when others didn’t. Right there, I mentally dubbed Jake’s brother a first-class jerk.
Meanwhile, Jake stepped forward and shook his father’s elbow. “Pops, wake up. Come on. We need to get you home.”
His father woke with a start, his head lifting up as he looked around owlishly. Then he focused on Jake, and his mouth split open in a silly grin. “Jake! Jake! You were on TV!” He turned toward the bartender and waved his hand at the television. “Put it up, Hank. Put it up.”
“Pops, it’s a TV. He can’t—”
Except apparently, he could. There must have been some sort of electronic connection to the internet because a few seconds later, the screen flashed and there was Jake leaping from our balcony to Ben’s. The picture was grainy, but clear enough. And the resolution got even better as Jake wrapped the blanket around Ben before leaping together to the balcony below me.
Just seeing it again brought all those feelings back up. The terror, the stench, the coughing fit I didn’t even remember. My hands itched with the remembered burn as I clutched the metal railing. And then—oh hell—there was the image of me free-falling into Jake’s arms. I felt the burn in my hands as the rope slipped through my fingers. The horror at my fall and the knowledge of certain death. And then, like a miracle, Jake had snatched me out of the air.
I reeled, unsteady on my feet as I watched it play out. I’d already seen the video. Rachel had shown it to me, but seeing it again, I was caught flat-footed at the emotions rolling through me. Terror, elation, horror, hero worship. All of it bombarded me. And in the middle of it all, Jake’s father peered at me.
