Love, Hate & Us Read online

  How sick is it that Joely’s fucked three guys in the same family and I get the short straw by trying to do the right thing.

  The front door slams and I’m confronted with the consequences of my shitty decisions. I didn’t expect to feel so…so guilty.

  Brooke stands before me—no makeup, hair at all different angles, face puffy and eyes red and raw from crying. She doesn’t just look upset, she looks devastated. It’s in this exact moment that I know that this woman is everything to me. She’s all I’ve ever wanted and needed.

  I’m the stupidest motherfucker in the world because I didn’t see what was right before my eyes and now…now I’ve lost the best damn thing that ever happened to me. I should never have let Caden get to me.

  “You okay?” It’s a dumb question to ask.

  “No. I’m not.” She moves past me, toward our bedroom.

  “Can we talk?”

  “No, I don’t think we can.”

  “Just let me explain, please?” I plead. Brooke’s body is turned away from me, she tilts her head to the ceiling, as though trying to summon up some strength.

  “There’s nothing to explain, Brody. What you did last night is all the explanation that I need.”

  “Can you at least look at me?” I ask gently.

  “I don’t want to look at you right now. I don’t even know if I want to see you ever again.”

  “But we live together.” Panic rises in my gut.

  “I’ll move out. Then you can get on with your life like you want.”

  “No, you don’t have to,” I say, scrubbing my hand over my face. “Look, I’m gonna be gone for three days; I’ve got that trade show out of state. You’ll have a few days without me and when I get back, we’ll talk. Really talk.”

  “I doubt it’ll change anything, Brody.”

  “Brooke, please…please just turn around.” I drop down to my knees, even this doesn’t persuade her to look at me. “I know I’ve fucked up, but at the very least, don’t throw away over twenty-five years of friendship.” I drop my head to my chest, sending up a silent prayer to anyone that’ll listen. “I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend, my love…without you.”

  Brooke lets out a snort of derision. “You’ve been doing just fine the last few months and I’m sure you’ll be fine in the future. Nearly every woman in this town wants to warm your bed, so I doubt that you’ll have trouble in that area.”

  Her voice is close, and I realize that she’s now standing directly in front of me. I look up to see that her arms are folded across her chest. There is no trace of the brokenness I saw earlier, only ice-cool disdain. I know every one of Brooke’s emotions. I know when she is happy, I know when she is sad, and I know every single emotion in between, but this? This is different. I’ve been on the receiving end of her anger but I’ve never seen this before. For the first time ever I don’t know what she’s thinking or how she’s feeling, and that scares the hell out of me.

  “It wasn’t me, Brody,” she continues, “who threw away all our years of friendship. That one is all on you. Honestly? As your longtime ex…whatever, I want you to know that I think you’ve been a pretty lousy friend recently. I wouldn’t have treated my worst enemy the way you’ve treated me. You made our relationship toxic.”

  “Give me a chance, please.” I’m begging now.

  “Like you gave me? You get to treat me like crap and I’m supposed to go ‘Yeah that’s okay, keep kicking me while I’m down?’” She does the wrinkled nose thing, which means that she’s pissed. Shit. “You get to screw other women in my presence, hurting me, but that’s okay because you want to be my friend? No. Friends don’t do that to one another. They don’t keep shitting on them from great height and then expect everything to go back to the way it was. You don’t get to do that, Brody. You don’t get to break my heart and then expect me to welcome you back with open arms. Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” She stares at me awhile, then storms into her room, slamming the door behind her.

  The next morning I leave to go to the trade show. I try to contact Brooke but she’s blocked my number. She won’t pick up the home phone and she removed me from all social media. I doubt that she’ll read the letter I left behind in the kitchen. I spend the entire three days thinking about her. I’m so consumed with those thoughts that the show is a major bust. It’s with a lot of relief when I start the journey home. I’m hoping that she’ll have cooled down by the time I get there, maybe she’ll be more willing to listen to me and I can start to repair the broken pieces of our relationship.

  * * *

  The house is in darkness by the time I arrive back. Not one single light is on to welcome me home. Brooke’s car is missing from the driveway, and I feel a pang of disappointment but figure that she’s probably working late, which will work in my favor.

  I grab the overpriced flowers that I bought from the swanky store I stopped off at a few hours back. I also pick up the small box containing one of those fancy charm bracelets that she’s been dropping hints about for a while. I would have gotten us take-out from her favorite restaurant but they were closed, so I picked up the ingredients to make Brooke one of her favorite meals instead.

  I’m juggling all this and my duffel bag when I spy Lola standing on her front porch staring at me.

  “Hi, Lola,” I say, giving her a nod.

  “Brody.” She acknowledges me, then walks back into her house.

  Strange. Lola is normally much more talkative than that. Last time I came back from one of the shows, she kept me talking for so long that Brooke texted me to ask if she needed to file a missing person’s report. I shrug it off and turn the key in the lock.

  “Hey, I’m back,” I call, with the tiniest of hope that Brooke’s home and that she left her car at work. I’m greeted by silence.

  Something’s not right.

  My body gives an involuntary shudder from the lack of warmth in the house. Maybe that’s it.

  I walk through to the kitchen in darkness, not even bothering to turn the lights on, and place the flowers and food on the countertop. I haul my duffle bag onto my shoulder and head to my bedroom and dump it on the bed. I’ll unpack it later.

  Heading back to the kitchen, I grab a beer from the ones I bought earlier and pad to the living room. I figure that Brooke won’t be home for a while yet, so I’ll watch TV then start dinner. When I turn the lights on, I see why I had that odd feeling.

  All the photos of us have disappeared, only the empty frames remain. As I look closer, I can see that most of Brooke’s stuff is gone. Only a few bits remain, scattered here and there, as though she left in a hurry. The beer can drops from my hand, spilling its contents across the hardwood floor, but I ignore it, turning around and around in circles as the panic rises.

  “BROOKE!” I scream as I’m jolted from my shock. “Brooke?” I try again, sprinting to our room, and shoving the door open so hard that it splinters as it hits the wall. The bed is stripped, the closet and drawers are open and empty. Everything that belonged to Brooke is gone. A quick check of the bathroom tells the same story.

  “No.”

  I walk back out into the bedroom, sitting heavily down on the bed as I look numbly around me. The room looks as cold and empty as I feel. I take my cell out of my back pocket and try Brooke’s number again.

  “The number you have dialed has not been recognized.”

  I try Hope’s cell but get the same message. Who else would know where Brooke has gone… Cade? No. Mom? She’s really pissed at me for splitting up with Brooke in the first place, and I doubt Brooke would have told her she was leaving. Not that Mom would give up Brooke’s location anyway. That would leave her asshole boss. He must know where she’s gone.

  As I search through my contacts list so that I can make the call, a tiny flash of light from Brooke’s side of the bed catches my eye. Sitting on the nightstand, on top of an envelope baring my name, is her engagement ring. With a trembling hand, I pick up the ring a
nd the letter. For safe keeping, I put the ring on the leather cord that I habitually wear around my neck, and turn my attention to the letter.

  My hands are still shaking as I open it and read the words Brooke has written.

  * * *

  Brody,

  By now you’ve probably worked out that I’ve gone. I’ve left my keys with Lola, please don’t ask her where I am, she’s sworn to secrecy, also it’s no longer any of your business. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable. So that you don’t worry, here’s a list of things you should know. I’ll lay it out in simple terms for you. (You don’t deserve this btw, but if it keeps you off my back…)

  Location—I’m going somewhere safe. Don’t bother asking anyone in town where I’m going. I didn’t tell anyone other than Lola.

  Work—I gave my two weeks’ notice, but was let go early as I had vacation time.

  Ring—I didn’t think it was right to keep the ring, so please feel free to give it to the next poor sucker.

  Don’t contact me, or Hope. We won’t answer. Ever.

  Money—I’ve taken the money I put into the joint checking account. You have my personal account details, so I’d appreciate you sending me my share of the house. If you don’t, then you’ll be hearing from my attorney.

  Photos—All the photos that I could find of us together have been destroyed. I didn’t see the point in keeping any. Same goes with any mementoes or things you’ve given me. I have no need for any of it.

  Stuff I’ve left behind—If I’ve left any of my things behind, then please get rid of them. Send them to Goodwill or something.

  That’s it, I think.

  It’s sad that it’s come to this.

  I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for. I only wish you’d told me sooner how you felt. I wouldn’t have wasted the last few years of my life hoping for something that was never to be.

  Have a nice life.

  Brooke

  * * *

  As soon as I finish reading the letter, I crumple it up into a ball and hurl it across the room. I don’t stop there. The mattress gets overturned, as do the bedside tables, and curtains are ripped away from the window. By the time I’m finished, my house has been completely trashed. The bigger pieces of furniture and the items Brooke left behind have survived, but not much else.

  My hands are bloody and torn, peppered with shards of glass from smashing the mirrors. I should probably go to the emergency room, but right now I don’t care. Instead, I drop to my knees, curl up in a tight ball, and do something that I haven’t done since I was a kid.

  I cry.

  Brooke

  “Broooooooke!”

  As soon as I get out of my car, I’m nearly knocked on my ass by a one hundred and twenty pound, auburn-haired goddess flinging her arms around me, and hugging me tight as though she never wants to let me go.

  “I missed you so much.” Hope smiles, stepping back. “How was the drive?”

  “Long.” I remove the sunglasses I’ve been wearing for most of the three days that it’s taken me to drive to Arizona, and rub my eyes. Hope’s not fooled though, a look of pity passes over her face when she catches sight of my swollen, red eyes.

  “Oh, B,” she says, taking my hand in hers. That’s all it takes to set me off again. How I got here in one piece, I’ll never know. I had to keep stopping because I was crying so hard I couldn’t see the road ahead of me. There were several times that I almost turned the truck around to head back home. What stopped me was my brain replaying the sounds of another woman being fucked by the man I love. The man who I was, until very recently, supposed to marry.

  After the confrontation I’d had with Brody, I knew that there was no way I could go back to sticking my head in the sand. Not after everything that had happened. The once happy home we’d shared would forever be tainted by the fact that he’d screwed someone else there. It would only serve as a painful reminder that I was no longer Brody’s one and only.

  If I couldn’t cope with Brody sleeping with another woman, then there was no way I’d be able to sit back and watch as he moved on with someone else entirely. All the while having to endure the faux sympathetic looks from the so-called great and good of the town. I could just hear them talking about me.

  Oh, that Brooke? Well she and Brody were engaged, you know. Poor thing, thinks that he’s going to beg her to come back. I would think after he and Joely had their fifth child last month, she would figure out that ain’t going to happen…

  I knew that I had a three-day window until Brody returned from his trade show. As soon as he left that day, I’d started to put my plans into motion. First thing I did was head into work to hand in my notice.

  Having already called Hope to take her up on her offer of a place to stay, the only thing left to do was pack my belongings and fit everything that I could into my car. It was as Lola was helping with the last few things that I’d looked around to see all the photos of Brody and me on the walls. Against Lola’s warnings, I’d torn each and every one down, then burned them in the fireplace. It was possibly the most cathartic experience I’d ever had. So much so that I’d headed to the computer and deleted all photos of us, blocked his number from my cell, and removed all traces that Brody and I had ever been together from social media. By the time I was finished, hardly anything had remained. The last thing I did, before shutting the door on my former life, was to write Brody a note and leave my engagement ring where he’d find it. Then I’d grabbed my bag, walked out the door, and didn’t look back.

  I spent my last night at Lola’s, bidding her a tearful goodbye before getting into the truck and heading to my sister’s and my new life. I swore as I headed out of Emmerton that I’d shed no more tears over Brody McAllister. Unfortunately, while my head knew that Brody and I were finished, my heart had, and is still having, a little trouble catching up to the fact. The tears started as I crossed the state line, and they haven’t stopped yet.

  “Come on. Let’s get you settled inside,” Hope says as she links her arm through mine. “You can freshen up, then I’ll show you around.”

  “What about the stuff in the truck?”

  “Jake and Louis said they’d unload it.”

  “Jake and Louis?”

  “My neighbors.” She laughs as she looks over her sunglasses, waggling her eyebrows as if I’d know who the hell she was talking about. “You know. Jake…”

  Jake…Jake…oh that Jake.

  “Hot Jake? The stripper?”

  “Performance artist, I’ll have you know,” a deep voice says, making me jump. I spin around as I try to locate the source of the voice, only to be confronted by one of the sexiest guys I have ever seen. He’s leaning against the side of a black Camaro, his arms folded across his massive chest. His massive, shirtless chest, showing off his very defined eight-pack and V dip which leads to his jean clad legs that can barely hide the large bulge in his groin area.

  Holy. Mother. Of. God.

  “Hello,” he says, pushing off the car and walking toward us. “Eyes up here, pretty girl. Look at the face. Not the package.”

  I keep my eyes firmly on the ground, unable to look at the guy through sheer embarrassment. I’m sure my face and eyes are now both a fetching shade of crimson, which will complement the reddish tones in my hair, making me look like a tomato.

  “Hey, Jake.” Hope purrs.

  So this is Jake. My temporary new neighbor. Ground, please swallow me whole now.

  “Hey, Hopeless.” I look up to see a shit eating grin spread across his handsome face. “You going to introduce me to…” He holds out one large hand to me. The other he uses to push his aviators on top of his light brown hair, revealing midnight-blue colored eyes.

  Ground, are you listening? Swallow me up right now.

  “This is my big sister, Brooke.” Hope returns Jakes grin as she nudges me in the side. “She’s just a bit…tired.”

  “Well it’s nice to meet you, Brooke,” he says, stepping forward to tak
e my hand in his. “Even if the cat has got your tongue. I’m Jake Steele.”

  Hope elbows me in the side again.

  “Yeah, you too.” I manage.

  “She speaks!” Jake laughs.

  “Asshole,” I mumble.

  “Feisty.” He nods. “I like it.”

  I roll my eyes, and turn to Hope. “Is he always like this?”

  “Yeah.” She giggles.

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Hi, let me reintroduce myself,” I say, shaking Jake’s hand. “I’m Brooke, Hope’s older sister. Just a few things you should know so that you don’t think I’m crazy. I’ve just had possibly the second worst week of my life; I won’t go into details, but I’ve left behind my whole life. It’s taken me three very long, tiring days to get here. What I could really do with right now is a drink. I’m sorry I looked at your crotch, but I was only wondering if you stuff socks down your pants or something.”

  “You did, huh?” The look on Jake’s face is priceless. A mixture of pride and amusement and a little bit of embarrassment.

  “Yep.” I manage to smile, the hurt of the past forgotten temporarily.

  “Well. I…uh,” Jake says, rubbing the back of his neck. For a moment he looks quite bashful, until I catch the wicked glint in his eye. I think I’m going to have to keep an eye on this one. “Well, I can guarantee you that what you see is the real deal, sweetheart. I don’t need socks. I could give you a demonstration if you’d like?” He winks.

  Definitely trouble.

  “Ewwww. No. I don’t know where you’ve been.” My nose wrinkles in disgust.

  “In your dreams?” He smirks.

  “In Lord knows how many women’s vaginas, more like.”

  “And you know it.”

  I shake my head in amusement at this overly confident, relentless, sexy ass.

  “Listen. How about Louis and I unload your car? Then we’ll pick you and Hope up. We can go out for celebratory drinks.”

  I glance at Hope, who nods her head encouragingly, then back at Jake.