Heartless Lover by Faith Summers

31

Summer

“You’ll like this soup. My mother used to make it for me when I was little,” Eric says, holding up the bowl of delicious smelling soup before me. With a silver spoon, he scoops up some of the soup with a few chunks of potatoes and carrots. “It’s an old Russian recipe.”

As I stare at him, I still can’t believe I’m here. Alive. Not dead.

I jumped. I really did it. I actually did what I never thought I would do.

I tried to kill myself and all I’ve lived for is to survive.

But I jumped over the balcony, and he caught me. Eric saved me and he hasn’t left my side since. He’s been glued to me, taking care of me, and we’ve hardly left his room. Whenever he’s had to leave me to take a call he’s never gone where he couldn’t see or hear me.

Lyssa has been here too. I don’t think she went home even though I went to sleep nearly straight after Eric saved me. I know I gave her a terrible fright. I just didn’t think I’d be alive to feel the embarrassment of what I tried to do.

It happened yesterday and now it’s approaching night again. Just like yesterday before Eric left. Now he’s feeding me again. And he looks worried, like he thinks I might change my mind and jump through the window.

The thing is I can’t feel my mind. It’s numb in my shell of a body, but I can still see the wealth of emotion in his eyes for me. And I can still hear his words ringing through my mind as he told me he cared and asked me to stay in this world with him.

The pain in my heart is no less but I’m here. I stayed.

“It smells nice,” I answer, looking from him to the soup.

His eyes sparkle. “Taste it, baby.”

Baby…

He’s been calling me that instead of Babydoll. I like both now, except when he calls me baby it feels more sentimental. I would have died yesterday with the echo of that endearment in my mind. I chose to remember one last thing as I stepped off the balcony and it was him saying he’d take care of me. I chose that because nobody has told me that before.

The closest I came was Marquees and his wife, but they were strangers who took pity on me. Eric is a stranger too, but my relationship with him is different.

I lean closer and take the food he’s offering me.

Just like earlier the flavors tantalize my taste buds and I taste every herb and ingredient as if I’ve never had soup before. I think that must have something to do with the shock to my system of thinking I was going to die. Now that I’m still here my body is still adjusting.

“It’s delicious.”

“Good. Have the rest. You need it.” He holds out the spoon to me again with more soup and I offer him a weak smile.

“I’ll do it Eric. You’ve been feeding me all day.”

“Maybe I like the idea of you thinking I’m sweet.” He smirks.

“You are.”

“I’ll allow you to think so.”

He hands me the bowl and I take it. To show him he doesn’t have to worry about me eating I take a spoonful myself and another.

Satisfied he straitens up and sits on the window bay before me.

I look him over and take in the tattoos covering his arms. He’s wearing a tank top so it’s easy to see most of them.

There’s something I owe him, and I should pay up before the day ends. So, I’m going to do it now.

“Thank you for saving me,” I mutter.

He looks surprised. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I do, because you could have gone over the edge too.”

“I know.”

He would have died trying to save me. Truth is truth and that’s the thing that’s anchoring me to this world. People can tell you anything they want you to hear, but when they show you how they feel it’s irrefutable. So, I knew he cared even before he told me.

Days ago, I didn’t think he cared, and I had to make myself trust him. I had no choice in the matter. Now I know I can trust him with my life, and it still feels like he took the choice away from me with that too, but in a good way. And, despite my thoughts of myself

“What?” he asks. “I don’t know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that.”

“You.”

“What about me Summer Reeves?”

“Everything. Why do you care?”

“Because I get you, and maybe at some points and in some ways we’re more alike than we thought. But I don’t want you to be like me. I don’t want you to be like me at all and yesterday you were. The moment you jumped off that balcony you were just like me.”

The moment he says that I understand what he means, and it shocks and scares me at the same time.

Death.

He’s talking about death. As in he’s not afraid of death because he wants to die.

“No,” I breathe.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“My selfish mistakes could have cost my family their lives and it was only because of tact and miracles why it didn’t,” he explains. “Robert and I grew up together. I treated him like a brother. We did everything together and it helped that we shared the same interests in computer science and engineering. We went to college together and he went to work for my family’s company, Markov Tech. I trusted him with my secrets and that’s where I went wrong.”

He pauses for a moment and a wealth of pain so potent fills his eyes that it compels me to go to him.

I sit next to him, and he stares at me for a few seconds before drawing in a deep tired breath.

“What happened?”

“He knew my family situation and that’s what he used against me. My father was married to someone else when he met my mother. My sister and I were the children of an affair that never ended. My father’s wife wouldn’t allow him to leave her without the threat of losing everything, but I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t give up everything if he loved us so much. He was in the Italian mafia and my grandfather was Bratva and both denied me of what naturally came to me. They didn’t want me to be part of that life, but I don’t think either of them knew that you can’t deny someone of who they are.”

Something that looks like embarrassment fills his face and he looks away from me.

“I rebelled and when I did it was easy for our enemies to ensnare me because they could see I wasn’t thinking straight, and Robert was right alongside me,” he adds. “We both ended up joining a terrorist organization who worked on a high level for politicians. I wanted power and the chance to be part of something I thought was bigger and better than the Bratva or the Italian mafia. The attention directed at what I could do went straight to my head, and I didn’t care about anybody besides myself. More importantly, I did what I did because I didn’t feel like my father’s bastard child.”

When he returns his gaze back to me the rage I’m used to seeing comes back to his eyes.

“I never knew they were only interested in me because they were after a weapon my grandfather designed before he died. One only I could make. And I would never believe that Robert was working in the background to betray me. When I tried to get out Robert helped them capture me. He staged an accident to make it look like I died in a car crash, so for five years my family believed I was dead.”

My God.“Five years? People thought you were dead for five years, Eric?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you?” I ask.

“Brazil.”

“How did you get away?”

“Nothing short of a miracle. It was my sister who discovered the truth and went through hell to get me back. You know what Robert’s like so just imagine the people who he worked for. I left my wheelchair bound mother and my sister at their mercy and they did all kinds of things to both of them. That happened because of me, and they were all destined to die. All of them, including me.”

I can’t imagine what he must have gone through all those years, and now I understand the depth of his hatred for Robert.

“You didn’t know that was going to happen,” I say.

“It doesn’t matter, Summer. It happened and I can’t change it. There’s not a damn thing I can do to change anything. It’s like I blindfolded myself, walked right into a trap, then dragged everyone in with me. What I did changed people’s lives. Not just mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. These days that have passed since I’ve been home have felt like purgatory. The only thing I can do to fix it is get Robert, and even then it won’t be enough. Because I can’t change the fact that everything that happened was my fault. That’s the major difference between you and me. What happened to you wasn’t your fault and no one should have blamed you for anything. Not for your mother or your sister. Your mother was sick, and your sister was just unfortunate enough to walk into a dangerous situation. You’re just as much of a victim as any of them.”

I’ve waited years to hear those words. My heart squeezes and hope fills my soul, beckoning me to try again.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself either Eric. You made mistakes. You didn’t set out to hurt anybody and they didn’t die. You still get to love them. Having you back must mean everything to them if they thought you were dead and went through hell to get you back. Don’t forget that part.”

His face softens and he smiles at me. Leaning closer he touches my face and moves to my lips to brush his over mine.

It’s a sweet kiss, again too sweet for us, but it feels like something I want.

When he pulls away, he glances at the clock on the wall and that softness in his face fades into darkness.

“It’s time,” he states.

“Time for what?”

“We’re going somewhere important.”

I narrow my eyes with confusion. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, baby. Come with me.”