“Go,” he barks suddenly.
Stunned, I open my eyes and stare at him.
“Go!” he shouts waving the gun toward the open window I came through.
I immediately turn and rush to the window. Even as I dive through it, I’m expecting the impact of a bullet in my back. It would be just like him to prefer shooting his victim like a coward instead of facing his mistakes head on. But soon I’m falling, crashing through a bush and landing on the ground with a thud. I know I’m cut up pretty bad, but I feel nothing as I run to my car and lock myself inside. Throwing it into reverse, I peel out and start the short drive home.
It’s not until I’m standing in my foyer, folder in hand, staring into Hadley’s shocked face that the reality of what just happened takes over.
CHAPTER 14
HADLEY
“Julian?” I approach him slowly, concerned by his disheveled appearance, but even more so by the vacant look in his eyes. He stands frozen in front of the open doorway like an apparition that just learned it’s dead. Thankfully, Naomi is in her room and has made it clear she has no intentions of leaving it tonight. For once, preteen angst is working in our favor.
He doesn’t even look at me as I reach around him to close the door. I lock it as well in case whatever left him in this state is still out there. It’s his hands that start trembling first, then his legs, and soon his entire body seems gripped by some strange fear. He clutches a folder in his hand. That’s shaking too.
I gently guide him to the couch, perching on the coffee table in front of him so we’re facing each other. Our knees touch, and I reach out to relieve him of the folder.
“No,” he hisses, drawing it to his chest.
I pull back, startled, and he crosses his arms over it.
“Julian, what happened?”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re clearly not fine.”
Thin streaks of blood cover his face and arms, scratches as if he fell against an abrasive surface. And the folder. What’s with that? I stare at it for a moment, as if somehow it will reveal itself to me in the silence.
He closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling in exaggerated breaths like he’s trying to control his breathing.
“Julian, please tell me what’s going on. Where were you just now? What’s in that folder?”
He doesn’t look at me, the breaths coming in faster intervals now. He’s losing the fight with himself. I sense a change in his state, a weakening that makes me think it’s safe to try again. This time when I reach for the folder, he lets me pull it from his arms.
I open it carefully, nervous about what I’ll find. What could possibly send one of the most fearless people I know into this state? I’m surprised to discover ordinary looking documents.
“Naomi’s birth certificate?” I ask, looking up at him.
He nods, trembling again but in a different way. This seems more about holding something in rather than letting something out. A weight presses on my chest as I watch him fight. So hard. I can see the battle raging in the wild look in his eyes, the violent clench of his fists. His entire body seems coiled in resistance to some unseen adversary.
I can’t take it anymore and move to the couch beside him. He doesn’t look at me, just releases his fists so he can lean forward and clench them in his hair instead. His eyes close as his elbows rest on his knees, his knuckles white from the strain of the pull of his hair. He’s still shaking. Breathing shallow breaths.
This is a man who’s about to shatter.
“Julian.” My voice is soft and stern at the same time, all the complex feelings I have for him cramming into that one word. I reach my arms around him and hold on as tight as I can, resting my cheek on his shoulder. It’s like holding an iron statue in an earthquake. Until it’s not.
Like an implosion, he suddenly goes limp in my arms. Hidden tears burst out in broken sobs as he splinters in front of me.
“I can’t,” he cries out, pulling at his hair. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
I pull him tighter. There are no words for this. No actions except to hold together what’s left of him while he sheds the pain he can’t control anymore. His sobs are guttural, angry and saturated as if there’s an entire lifetime’s worth pouring out at once. When’s the last time he’s cried? Ever? His body doesn’t even know how to cry as he wheezes in desperate breaths through the tears.
I pull him tighter still.
We sit like this for a long time, the distant thump of Naomi’s music mixing with the whimpering remains of the emotional onslaught. My own eyes burn when I close them, his raw pain too much for them to handle. Tears harden into a knot in my chest, pressing on my heart. But I can’t let them free. Not now. They’re for him anyway. For Naomi and this whole situation that I still don’t entirely understand but is somehow changing my world too.
After several more minutes, he finally seems to be drawing in normal breaths again. His tears subside into silent streaks on his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice shaky, almost inaudible. “I’m so, so sorry.” He won’t look at me, still hunched over with his elbows on his knees.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I say, rubbing his arm in soothing strokes.
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t take it. It was too much. I just…”
Just.
He closes his eyes again.
“You just broke.”
His haunted eyes lift to mine, punching me in the stomach. I gaze back into the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen. A mess I don’t even want to fix. A mess I want to understand and appreciate and hold onto.
I reach out and touch his cheek, brushing softly with my thumb as we stare at each other.
“I got you, Julian Campbell. You know that, right? Even if we never officially become more than we are right now, you can give everything you have to Naomi because I got you.”
He blinks, fresh tears gathering in his eyes. “God, you are the strongest person I know.” He looks away, and I pull my hand back to my lap.
After another long silence, I hear him suck in a steadying inhale. “I went to Ashley’s place tonight to look for those papers,” he says in a low, strangely monotone voice given what just happened. “I found them, but Allan showed up and pulled a gun on me.”
“What?!” I cry.
Julian doesn’t budge, and I realize that stoic tone is coming from a newly fortified body. If I hadn’t just witnessed his complete meltdown, I never would have guessed the hard man before me was capable of such emotion.
“We argued for a bit, but I finally convinced him to let me go with the folder.” He looks up again. His eyes finally softening back to the Julian I’m falling for. “Am I making a mistake, Hadley? I want Naomi with me more than anything, but am I being selfish? What if…” He stops, paling before he looks away. “What if she’s better off without me?” I barely hear the question. I don’t think it was meant for me.
Anger boils inside me again, and I don’t know why. Who or what is it for? Some phantom force that lies and makes its victims believe the craziest things until it ruins lives and destroys good people. I’m angry, which is why he looks at me in surprise when I push myself up from the couch with a violent shove. I’m still angry as I stomp to the kitchen and swipe a sheet of notebook paper off the counter. I stomp back to the living room and slap the paper against his hands.