This Man Part 55

'Please.' he mouths.

'I said, goodbye.' The words carry an air of finality that I really do not mean.

He searches my face for such a long time, but eventually, he abandons trying to find any sc.r.a.p of hope in my eyes, he turns, and he silently leaves.

I provide my lungs with the desperate rush of breath they need, walking on my unstable legs to the window. The front door slams, vibrating through the house, and Jesse appears, dragging himself to his semi-abandoned car. I flinch, letting out a sob as he smashes his fist through the window of his car, sending shards of gla.s.s spraying all over the road. He throws himself in and repeatedly punches the steering wheel. After what seems like years of watching him pound on his car, he roars off, tyres screeching, car horns blaring.

I get out of the shower and dry my hair before resuming fetal position on my bed. I'm completely numb. I feel like my heart has been ripped out, trampled on and shoved back into my chest a battered mess. I'm somewhere between grief and devastation, and it's the most painful thing I've ever experienced. My life has fallen apart. I feel empty, betrayed, lonely and lost. The only person that can make any of this better is the person that's made it all happen. I don't feel like I'm ever going to recover from this.

'Ava?' I lift my pounding head from my pillow, finding Kate stood in my doorway. The sympathy on her face enflames the hurt a little bit more. She perches on the edge of the bed, stroking my cheek. 'It doesn't have to be like this.' she says softly.

How so? How can it be any other way? I just have to ride out this pain and see if I have the strength to deal with any of it. Start all over again. But at the moment, I'm content just lying here feeling sorry for myself.

'Yes, it does.' I reply on a whisper.

'No, it doesn't.' She's firmer this time. 'You still love him. Admit you still love him. Did you tell him?'

I can't deny it. I do. I love him a so much it hurts. But I shouldn't love him. I know I shouldn't. 'I can't.' I turn my face into my pillow.

'Why?'

'He owns a s.e.x club, Kate.'

'He didn't know how to tell you. He was worried you would walk away.'

I look at Kate. 'Well, he didn't tell me, and I've still walked away.' I settle back down into my tear drenched pillow. 'You heard that man. He destroys marriages. He screws women for fun.' Why is she being so defensive? 'Why are you not shocked?' I mutter into my pillow. I know she's laid back, but this is shocking stuff.

'I am...a bit.'

'You could've fooled me.'

'Ava, Jesse hasn't so much as looked at another woman since he met you. The man is crazy about you. Sam never thought he'd see the day.'

'Sam can say what he likes, Kate. It doesn't change the fact that he owns a place where people go to have s.e.x and he sometime joins in.' I shudder, feeling sick at the thought. Crazy about me? That's total c.r.a.p.

'You can't punish him because of his past.'

'It's not his past, though, is it? He still owns the place.'

'It's his business.'

'Oh, leave me alone, Kate.' I spit. Her defending all of this is just p.i.s.sing me off. She should be supporting me, not trying to justify Jesse's misdemeanours.

I feel her weight lift from the bed on a sigh. 'He's still Jesse.' she says as she leaves my bedroom, and me alone to mourn my loss.

I lay in silence trying to rid my head of all the inevitable thoughts. It's no good. My brain is a.s.saulted by flashbacks of the last few weeks. Of our first meeting when he floored me, the texts and the calls and then the stalking...and the s.e.x. I flip myself onto my stomach, sinking my face into my pillow.

Kate's words keep pin-balling around in my mind "he's still Jesse". Do I even know who Jesse is? All I know is a man who swept me up in his intensity and blindsided me with his physical being.

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place when I recall him telling me that he has no contact with his parents. They disowned him when his uncle died and Jesse refused to sell The Manor. It makes sense now. It had nothing to do with the inheritance or sharing the estate, and all to do with their twenty one year old son being left to run a super posh s.e.x club. Of course they would be concerned, and probably highly p.i.s.sed. Their disapproval of Jesse's relations.h.i.+p with Carmichael is absolutely warranted. Christ, did Carmichael encourage Jesse to pursue that lifestyle? Jesse even said he was having the time of his life. What young man wouldn't be in a house where anything goes? He really has had lots of practice. And there's a distinct possibility that he really has never f.u.c.ked a woman more than once a apart from me.

It doesn't take Einstein to figure out why I was being chucked the evils by all of those women when I was at The Manor. They all want him. No, they all want him again.

He played it risky by taking me there, but when I think carefully, no one ever approached me a I was never alone, never free to roam. Did everyone know I was oblivious? Were they under instruction to keep quiet, to stay away? I must be a complete laughing stock. He really did go out of his way to keep me in the dark. How did he think he could get away with it? Sarah's comment on leathers...I push my face into the pillow in complete despair.

'Ava?'

I look up and see Sam stood in the doorway, looking as deflated as he was earlier. 'He beat himself up on a daily basis trying to think of how he could tell you. I've never seen him like this before.'

'You mean rejected?' I say sarcastically. 'No, I can't imagine Jesse Ward did get many knock backs.'

'No, I mean crazy about a woman.'

'Oh, he's crazy all right.' I laugh.

Sam frowns, shaking his head. 'Yes, crazy about you.'

'No, Sam. Jesse is crazy about controlling and manipulating me.'

'Do you mind?' he asks, standing at the edge of my bed.

'Help yourself.' I grumble uncharitably.

He perches on the edge of the bed. I've never seen him so serious. 'Ava, I've known Jesse for eight years. Not once have I seen him behave like this over a woman. He's never had a relations.h.i.+p beyond s.e.x, but you came along and it's like he found purpose. He's a different man, and while you might have been frustrated over his protectiveness, as a friend, I was happy to see him finally care so much to behave like that. Please, give him a chance.'

'He wasn't just protective, Sam.' I say tiredly. Protectiveness is just the start of a long list of unreasonable ways.

'He's still Jesse.' Sam repeats Kate's words, looking at me pleadingly. 'The Manor is a business. Yes, he mixed business with pleasure, but he had nothing else. It all changed when you fell into his life.'

'I can't wrap my head around all of this, Sam.'

He smiles, picking my hand up in his. 'If you can tell me that you can walk away from him, no second thoughts or regrets, then I'll shut up now and leave. If you can tell me that you don't love him, I'll walk away. But I don't think you can. You're shocked, I realise that. And yes, he has a history, but you can't ignore the fact that he adores you, Ava. It's written all over his face, expressed in everything he does. Please, give him a chance. He deserves a chance.'

Sam's pleading speech on behalf of his friend sounds like it's been well prepared and rehea.r.s.ed. Maybe it has. They must have known I'd find out eventually. Can I get past this s.h.i.+t? I know I'm not doing myself any favours laying here, kicking my sorry a.r.s.e around in circles. I'm trying to deal with something I just don't understand and probably never will. He owns a s.e.x club. This c.r.a.p doesn't feature into my idea of a normal, happy ever after. Could I ever trust him? He cares enough to behave like this? He adores me? Does adore equal love? I ignored all of Jesse's pillow talk in the beginning. All of the "you're mine" c.r.a.p and his declaration of never letting me leave rubbish. He said the word love a lot, but not in the context I so desperately wanted to hear. "I love you in lace", "I love sleepy s.e.x with you", "I love having you here". Should I have looked further into all of it? Was he telling me what I wanted to hear but in a backwards way? He persistently sought rea.s.surance from me that I would stay. If all he needed was comfort that I was staying put, then I did that plenty of times, didn't I? I always told him I would stay. But I didn't know about The Manor then. And now I do, and I've left.

He always wanted me in lace, not leather. He claimed me as his. He was possessive to the absolute maximum a unreasonably so. He always wanted to keep me covered, never wanting me to be exposed to anyone but him. Leather, sharing and the exposure of female flesh must be a regular occurrence at The Manor, surely. Was he was trying to make me the complete opposite of everything he knows? Everything he's use to? But what about the s.e.x?

I sit up. I need to talk to him. I can get over The Manor, I think. But I know, for absolutely sure, I'll never get over Jesse. This is an easy decision really. Seeing him so fraught and desperate must at least mean he's hurting, surely? He wouldn't behave like that if I didn't mean something to him, would he? So many questions...

I look at Sam. A small smile spreads across his cheeky face. 'My work here is done.' he mimics Jesse's words as he gets up on a little wince. 'That evil cow, she'll be moaning when I can't perform.'

I smile on the inside. This bombsh.e.l.l, obviously, hasn't affected Kate in the same way it has me. I throw on the nearest clothes I can find a which happen to be ripped jeans and a Jimmy Hendrix t-s.h.i.+rt a and grab my car keys. Tears flood my eyes and guilt punches a great hole in the stomach. I've made a monumental f.u.c.k up. He was the one who wanted the cards on the table. He was going to tell me about The Manor, but was there something else he wanted to tell me? I hope so, because I'm on my way to find out. Sarah's warning about building dreams on Jesse comes cras.h.i.+ng back into my mind as I race down to my car. Maybe, she's right, but I can't live not knowing.

Chapter 38.

I drive to Lusso in a stupid fas.h.i.+on, overtaking, banging my car horn impatiently and running a few red lights. When I pull up at the docks, I see Jesse's car parked on an angle, spanning two of his allocated s.p.a.ces. I abandon my Mini on the road, let myself in the pedestrian gate a thanking all that's holy I remember the code a and rush into the foyer, finding Clive at the concierge desk. He's looking more cheerful than usual.

'Ava! I've finally got the hang of all this ruddy equipment.' he declares delightedly.

I brace myself on the high, marble counter to catch my breath. 'Great, Clive. I told you it would come.'

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine. I'm just going up to Jesse.'

The phone on the desk starts ringing, and Clive holds his finger up in a signal for me to excuse him for a second. 'Mr Holland? Yes Sir, of course, Sir.' He hangs up, scribbling a few notes on his pad. 'Sorry about that.'

'That's okay. I'll make my way up.'

'Ah, Ava, Mr Ward hasn't notified me of your visit.' He scans his screen.

I gape at him. Is he having me on? He's seen Jesse carry me in and out of this place on numerous occasions. What's he playing at? I smile sweetly. 'How are you finding the job, Clive?'

He immediately becomes willing and animated. 'Well, I'm basically a personal a.s.sistant to thirteen filthy rich residents, but I love it. You should hear some of the requests I get. Yesterday, Mr Daniels asked me to organise a chopper ride over the city for his daughter and three friends and...' He leans over the counter, lowering his voice. 'Mr Gomez up on fifth, he has a different woman every day of the week. And Mr Holland seems to have a thing for the Thai birds. But keep that to yourself. It's all confidential.' He winks, and I wonder what Jesse has had him do or arrange. Organise for his smashed car window to be fixed would be a start.

'Wow, it sounds very interesting. I'm glad you're enjoying it, Clive.' I broaden my smile at him. 'Do you mind if I head up?'

'I need to call first, Ava.'

'Call then!' I huff impatiently, standing and s.h.i.+fting irritably, while Clive rings up to the penthouse.

He hangs up and dials again. 'I'm sure I saw him pa.s.s through.' he mutters on a frown. 'Maybe, I didn't.'

'His car's outside, he must be here,' I push frantically. 'Try again.' I point to the telephone. Clive presses a few b.u.t.tons again as I look on.

He hangs up again, shaking his head. 'No, he's definitely not there. And he hasn't put a DND on his system, so he's not asleep or busy. He must have gone out.'

I frown. 'DND?'

'Do not disturb.'

'Oh. Clive, I know he's home. Please, can I go up?' I plead. I can't believe he's being so difficult.

He leans over his desk, narrows his eyes on me and looks to either side, checking the coast is clear. 'I can get in serious trouble for not following protocol, but as it's you, Ava,' He winks. 'Go on.' He thumbs over his shoulder and straightens his green hat.

'Thanks, Clive.'

I jump in the elevator, punch in the code and pray he hasn't got around to re-programming it in the short time I've been gone. I let out a relieved breath of air when the doors close and I start my journey to the penthouse. He's got to answer the door yet a I don't have a key.

My stomach does a few three sixties as the elevator door slides open and I'm faced with the double doors into Jesse's apartment. I frown to myself. The door's open and there's music a very loud music.

I walk to the door, gently pus.h.i.+ng it open, my ears instantly bombarded from every direction by an extremely powerful and poignant, but equally sad track. I recognise it instantly a Angel. The words. .h.i.t me like a thunderbolt, immediately putting me on guard. Right now, it sounds so loud and depressing, not soft and ardent like it was when we made love. I need to find a remote control so I can turn it down, or off. It's so affecting. And with it coming from all of the integrated speakers, there's no escaping it. Maybe he's not here. Maybe the system has malfunctioned because he couldn't possibly sustain this noise level for long. But the door was wide open. I clamp my hands over my ears as I glance around the huge s.p.a.ce trying to locate a remote control. Running into the kitchen, I spot one on the island and quickly find the volume b.u.t.ton to turn the music down a a lot.

Once I've taken care of the noise levels, I go in search of him, making my way through the open plan area. As I reach the stairs, I kick something and watch as it clatters across the floor. I pick up the gla.s.s bottle and place it on the console unit at the bottom of the stairs before taking them two at a time.

I go straight to the master suite, but he's not in there. I proceed to frantically search every other room on the floor. He's in none of them. Where is he? I get half way down the stairs, stopping abruptly when my eyes land on the empty bottle that I scooped up.

It's vodka. Well, it was. It's been drained dry.

A wave of uneasiness rolls over me as a million thoughts invade my head. I've never seen Jesse drink a not ever. Every time alcohol has been on offer, he's refused, ordering water instead. It never occurred to me to wonder why. Have I ever seen him drink? No, I don't think I have. Now, looking at the empty bottle of vodka placed carefully on the table and thinking about how carelessly it was tossed on the floor, something isn't right.

'Oh, please no.' I whisper to myself.

His insistence on me not drinking on Friday comes rus.h.i.+ng back into my mind like a tidal wave. Our little altercation in The Blue Bar, when he tried to force feed me some water, suddenly doesn't seem so unusual or unreasonable.

I hear a crash, my eyes snapping from the empty bottle of vodka to the outside terrace. The huge gla.s.s doors are open. I sprint the rest of the way down the stairs, across the living s.p.a.ce, skidding to a halt at the doors when I see Jesse struggling to get himself up from one of the sun loungers. Have I had my eyes closed for the past few weeks? I've missed so much.

He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a bottle of vodka in his hand, which he's keeping a tight hold of as he fights to push himself up on his free arm. He's swearing profusely.

I'm froze on the spot as I watch this man that I've fallen in love with, a physically powerful, pa.s.sionate and captivating man, reduced to a drunken wreck. How did this slip past me? I've not even wrapped my head around all of the other s.h.i.+t that's been landed on me today. And now this on top of everything else? What have I done to deserve this?

Once he's hauled himself up, he turns to face me, his eyes hollow, his face washed out. It doesn't look like him.

'You're too late, lady.' he slurs viciously, glaring at me. He's never looked at me like this before. He's never spoken to me like this before. Not even when he's been crazy mad with me. What's happened to him?

'You're drunk.' I blurt. What a stupid thing to say, but all other words have run, screaming very loudly, from my brain. My eyes have been tortured way past repair today.

'That's very observant of you.' He lifts the bottle and swigs the rest of the vodka before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'Not drunk enough, though.' He walks forward purposely, and I instinctively move out of his way, knowing he would cause me damage if he crashed into me.

'Where are you going?' I ask as he pa.s.ses me.

'What's it to you?' he spits, without so much as looking at me. I follow him into the kitchen, watching as he drags another bottle of vodka from the freezer and tosses his empty into the sink. He starts uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the cap. 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' he hisses, shaking his hand. It's then that I notice the ma.s.s of swelling and cuts marring it. He perseveres with the screw cap, eventually removing it before knocking back a huge swig.

'Jesse, your hand needs looking at.'

He throws his hand up in front of him, taking another mouthful from the bottle. 'Look then. Yet more damage you've caused.' he snarls. I've caused? What's he trying to say? That on top of everything else, I've pushed him over the edge to drink? 'Yeah, you can stand there...stand there looking all bewildered...and...and...confused. I f.u.c.king told you!' he shouts. 'Didn't I warn you? I...I warned you!' He's hysterical.

'Warned me about what?' I ask quietly, but I know what he's going to say. This is the further damage I would cause if I left. This is what he won't recover from. Things were more bearable with me around because he wasn't drinking. Why?

He throws back more vodka. I try and mentally calculate how much he's had. This is the third bottle I've seen, but what about the ones I haven't? Can anyone drink that much?

'f.u.c.king typical.' he shouts at the ceiling.

'I didn't know.' I whisper.

He laughs. 'You didn't know?' He points the bottle at me. 'I said you would cause more damage if you left me, but you still left anyway. Now look at the f.u.c.king state of me.'

I flinch at his words. I feel like crying. Seeing him in this state makes me want to cry hard, but shock is controlling the tears. This is not the Jesse I know. This man is a stranger a a hurtful, cruel and merciless man, who I don't love at all. I don't need this man.

He starts pacing towards me. I back away. I don't want to be anywhere near him. 'That's it, run away.' He continues stalking forward, gaining on me with every step. 'You're a f.u.c.king p.r.i.c.k tease, Ava. I can have you, then I can't, then I can again. Make your f.u.c.king mind up!'