I was settling into bed, wanting to make it an early night so that I would stop thinking about Jackson waiting for me in his apartment, when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number so I just let it ring, noticing that the caller didn't leave a voicemail. I jumped when my phone rang again, the same number flashing on my screen. I hesitated, wondering who it could be, but I still didn't answer it. It could easily be a member of the press, wanting to get a comment from me. Even though attention from the media had waned in the past week, there was still lingering interest about my relationship with Jackson. When my phone rang the third time from the same number, I answered it angrily, annoyed that whoever was calling me wasn't getting the message.
"Hello?" I answered shortly. "Who is this?"
"She finally answers," Jackson said in a silky voice. He sounded deceptively calm but I could hear the anger vibrating just beneath the surface.
"What do you want, Jackson?"
"Obviously not the same thing as you, since I waited for you to show up at my apartment like a fool."
"So now you know what it feels like to wait for something that's never going to happen. Like I waited for your honesty. I see that you thought it was necessary to call me from a different number to trick me into answering."
"What can I say? I was able to coerce Harry into letting me use his cell phone. We're going to speak about this face-to-face. Let me up. I'm downstairs."
"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you into my apartment. I have nothing to say to you. Take Craig with you when you leave. I'm sick of him following me around."
"I can have the paparazzi here in less than five minutes," Jackson said in a low voice, sounding dangerous. "I'm sure they'd love to hear about how you cheated on me with Drew Stephens."
"What are you talking about!? That's not true!"
"It doesn't have to be true to make headlines, sweetheart. You should know that by now."
I felt sick by Jackson's taunting tone, wondering how the man who had loved me so tenderly had vanished. I reminded myself that he had never existed. I had so desperately wanted to be loved by Jackson that I had fooled myself into believing that a sincere, honest Jackson existed.
"What could possibly be accomplished by dragging this out?" I was tired and didn't know if I could take seeing Jackson right now.
"I'm handing the phone over to Harry," Jackson said, ignoring my question. "Tell him to let me up. I have no problem pushing past him, but he's likely to call the cops. No doubt, the paparazzi won't be far behind if that happens. We can let it play it out like that if you want. I'm game."
Each of Jackson's words battered into me, a weapon that wounded me far more than anything physical. He sounded so cold and callous. It reminded me that I didn't really know this man.
"Emma? What's going on? Jackson asked to use my cell phone and went into the corner, muttering. I didn't realize he was talking to you." Harry sounded confused but not overly concerned. I was relieved that he hadn't heard Jackson's threats. I didn't think Harry would leak any information to the press but I didn't want to take any chances.
"It's nothing, Harry. Please just let him up." The less I explained the better.
I was a nervous wreck as I waited for Jackson. I jumped when I heard the knock at the door, opening it reluctantly. My heart wrenched when I saw Jackson, not only because I had missed him desperately despite everything that had happened, but because he looked like hell. His hair was a mess, like he had been shoving his hands through it repeatedly. His normally golden complexion was sallow and his eyes were hooded and heavy-set, rimmed with dark circles.
Jackson didn't say anything when I opened the door, simply raising an eyebrow. Even though he looked like he had been through the ringer, Jackson could still be intimidating as hell with that one gesture. I stepped back and allowed him to enter, closing the door and following him as he stalked into my living room, being careful not to get too close. I crossed my arms against my chest and waited for him to tell me why he was here, unwilling to be the first one to speak. I didn't have to wait long as Jackson closed the distance between us, towering over me.
"Did you read my letter?"
"I did."
Jackson breathed in deeply, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "So this is it, Emma? You're throwing away everything that we have because I made a mistake?"
I thought my anger had faded into sadness these past few days, but Jackson's words bought my rage rushing to the forefront. I fought to control it.
"I didn't throw away everything," I bit out. "You did. I'm just deciding to not let myself be a pathetic victim again."
Jackson's nostrils flared and I expected him to defend his actions, but he changed his tactic. "Has Drew been consoling you?" he asked with a sneer.
"What I do with Drew or anyone else is none of your business! You have no claim on me."
Jackson's eyes flashed with anger, his jaw tightening. "That's where you're wrong. You belong to me and you better damn well tell me what you've been doing with Drew." Jackson paused, a muscle clenching in his cheek. "Have you slept with him?"
"Not everything is defined by fucking or not fucking," I answered snidely. "Of course, you wouldn't understand that since you seem to only understand relationships in terms of sex."
"Answer me," Jackson commanded, his voice low but his expression thunderous. His eyes were glittering unnaturally and I felt a shiver run down my spine, not recognizing this man before me. But I wasn't about to cower.
"No. You have no right to demand anything from me. If this is why you came over tonight, you can save your breath and leave. And take your spy with you." I was sure Craig had given Jackson the full report about my lunch with Drew.
I drew in a sharp breath of shock when Jackson grabbed the edge of my t-shirt and ripped it over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra and I immediately covered myself with my hands.
"Are you fucking crazy?!"
Jackson grabbed my arms, forcing them apart so that I was bared to him. "You don't want to answer me? Fine. I'll find out for myself by seeing if he's left his mark on you."
Jackson hooked his hand over my shorts, pulling them down along with my panties, forcing me to step out of them. I was completely naked before him, trembling with rage and disgust.
"You're a sick bastard," I spat out, feeling utterly violated and vulnerable. I flinched when Jackson slid one hand gently down the side of my hip, looking pained.