Saint & Sinner - A Second Chance Romance - Page 82

The moment I got to my van, I locked the door and drove away. In the dark of the night, there was only one place I wanted to go to.

Oh, Caleb, Caleb, why didn’t you tell me the truth?

This was what Maria had meant when she’d said he’d given up everything for me. I slammed my palms against the steering wheel as tears stung my eyes. He had gone to prison trying to protect me, and damn I had forgotten it all. Trapped behind a wall that had only now collapsed. As I drove … more and more memories came crashing back. The first day I met him, the countless laughs we shared, the love, God, the love …

How could he bear it? What he must have been going through all this time. To see me, to hold me, and not tell me. What a man. What a saint.

I couldn’t stop the tears continuing to fall. Everything made sense now. My hatred for lollipops. My uncle called his cock a lollipop. “Suck the lollipop,” he used to say to me. Ugh. And the feeling that I had lost someone important. The sensation I was waiting for someone.

My legs felt too weak to carry my body, but I forced myself not to collapse before I arrived at his home. He had given me his key, which I attached to my key ring. I got out of the car, and staggered to his door.

“Caleb,” I screamed, but my voice sounded muffled and puny. I struggled to find the key and when it seemed all I managed to do was slot in the wrong ones, I began to pound desperately on the door.

“Caleb” I cried, unable to gain control of myself. I had never felt so raw, so exposed … so broken. Then the lock turned. I had found the right key. I pushed open the door and entered the deadly quiet house.

“Caleb!” I croaked. Then I collapsed to the ground, no longer able to hold myself up. I thought I saw a pair of feet and legs running towards me, and I reached out for them, but I only grasped empty air. “Caleb, where are you? Where are you, my love?” I whispered.

And that was the last thing I remembered.

51

Caleb

The thudding sound woke me up from the drunken stupor I’d been wallowing in. For the amount I’d consumed it should have been damn near impossible to wake me up, but my years in prison had ingrained the need to sleep lightly. Especially, when I first arrived. I was fresh meat then, barely a man and there were too many people who wanted me to be their bitch.

My head was pounding like it had a fucking pneumatic drill inside it. I remembered attempting to drag myself off to bed, but I must have collapsed halfway through and just fallen asleep on the floor.

I lifted my head and listened to the sound, but it had gone quiet. I would have put it down to my imagination and just gone back to sleep on the floor, but something felt wrong. My chest felt tight. I felt the same way that night when Willow called me. My heart instantly slammed against my chest, and I struggled to my feet. Bare chested I ran towards the front door. It was Willow. There was no doubt in my mind about that. It was Willow.

Willow had come to me.

I got to the corridor and froze. In darkness I saw the open door and the still body lying just inside the entrance

“Willow!” I shouted and ran towards her. I skidded to the floor next to her and quickly began to check her breathing. She was still breathing and that was a tremendous relief.

“Willow!” I called.

I quickly checked her body for any injuries before I tried to move her. There seemed to be none that was obvious, but why was she unconscious. I decided not to move her.

I got my phone and called 911. Then I gently pulled her head onto my lap and waited.

My eyes stung with tears to see her like this. I rocked her gently in my arms. What had happened to her? If someone was responsible for hurting her I swore to God, I was going to make them pay.

The ambulance arrived and they put her on a gurney. I pulled on a shirt and shoes and told them I was going with them. They saw the state I was in and decided not to argue.

While she was admitted and examined, I found a vending machine and got myself a coffee. My head was killing me and I felt strange and brittle. I leaned against a wall and drank the bitter coffee. It was vile. I let my head touch the wall behind me and closed my eyes. Jesus. What a mess.

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