The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 47

“Physical pain goes away, Jake … Don’t focus on injuries that healed in weeks.” I flop back down, the irritation rising to strangle out my mellow drunkenness. Dismissing it. I don’t need this right now. My insides start to clench with anxiety.

“What do you mean?” I sense his shift in position, so he’s looking at me.

Does he really have no clue?

The physical side means nothing in the grand scheme of things; it’s the emotional mess left inside of me that I don’t want Jake to see.

“He broke my arm and ribs; he almost broke my nose and he gave me a concussion that had me in hospital for days. But it all healed in time.” I don’t even remember how that felt.

Why am I telling him this? Alcohol is like a lubricant for my goddamn mouth.

I’m drunk and somehow it doesn’t feel as bad saying it out loud when I am this detached from normal Emma. It’s like I’m talking about someone else; sad little Emma back home in Chicago, so far away. He needs to understand that none of it means anything anymore. I’m not her.

Jake makes an odd noise; I think it’s a grunt, a snort—maybe a moan. I don’t know, but it’s not a good noise, it’s a reaction to what I have said, and I talk fast to cover it.

“I mean, I don’t remember the physical pain. You should forget it too,” I say it so matter of fact, yet softly, trying to fix the point I was making. It makes me sick in reality and tears sting my eyes despite my shrugging it off.

“How can I forget it?” he looks at me as though I have two heads and it pushes me into over-sensitive and defensively emotional Anytime we broach this subject, we fight. I don’t want that right now. I can’t handle this tonight.

“Same way I do; push it out of your head. Ignore it. Lock it away deep down and don’t talk about what he did to me.” I try for a shrug, but at this angle it’s more of a squirm because it IS upsetting me on some level.

“He raped you?” his voice is quiet and unsteady, he sounds different—afraid. I guess he has been trying to figure this out for a while. How far Ray had gone.

Oh, Jake, don’t sound that way. A lump forms in my throat and threatens to choke me.

“No … He didn’t … He tried … I fought back … My mom came home.” I stare at the ceiling of the car, listening to another version of Emma, talking out loud, detached from the secrets she’s telling and trying to quell the low pain building up inside. Killing me inside.

“Jesus, Emma.” His voice is breathy, talking as he exhales, he sounds relieved, but also sad for me, and I don’t like it. I pull myself up and glare at him angrily. That spitfire ignited with his pity. I can’t take sympathy or being made to feel weak.

“Don’t do that!” I snap angrily, swirling emotion from deep down suddenly jumping out. He spins his head to look me in the eye, shocked, confused at my reaction.

“Don’t do what?” he frowns defensively.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” I spit, pulling myself up awkwardly while trying to force away the spinning sensation. “Don’t look at me in that way, like I’m some sort of damaged broken glass who is too fragile for life.” My feet have been in his lap this whole time and I pull them away fast. Struggling up, I sway, and realize I’ve got a seatbelt clipped over my waist. Safety Jake! I un-clip it and pull myself to sit properly and face him.

“Emma, how can I not feel something when you tell me that asshole beat the shit out of you and tried to rape you?” he’s angry and it’s unexpected. I wasn’t prepared for pissed Jake, but maybe that’s better than sad, sorry Jake. I don’t want sad sorry. I hate people looking that way at me.

“Well just don’t … I don’t need sympathy. I fought back … Hard … He broke my bones for it, but you know what? He didn’t manage to rape me; he didn’t do what he wanted … I won!” I yell out loudly, not at Jake, but at the world in general. Anger spewing out in every direction as I snap.