The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)
Chapter 78

“Emma Anderson, you listen to me … I’m not going to sit back and watch you fucking sleep for the rest of our lives, you hear me? Where is my PA Emma? She has way more sass than this. She wouldn’t lie around like this, doing nothing. Who else will kick my ass in gear when I’m misbehaving? If you don’t wake up right now, I’ll haul your ass up and make you.”

Jake’s forceful tone is almost a growl, full of emotion, tears, and aggression. He’s trying to replace me in here, and he knows that the bossy, domineering asshole he can always be had a way of giving me what I needed, even if it’s to wake up and give him attitude back. I get a spike of defiance in his non-gentle tone, yet a surge of deep-hearted love at this version of him. “Listen, neonata … No woman of mine is spending her life lounging in bed, letting everyone fall apart around her … Enough is enough. It’s been days, Emma. Now get up!” His tone is deeper, huskier, and almost breaks. His raw emotions are laced in every word he says, trying so hard to reach me.

I am getting so frustrated at myself that my inner anger rears up. I’m surrounded by the song that gave me two of the happiest moments of my life, when he gave me his all, and yet here I am lying here, my sub-conscious holding me back from what I deserve. It’s like the beginning of our relationship all over again. I’m back to the defiant, closed-off Emma who never let him in, always holding back when he needed me most.

No! I am not doing this to you, Jake. Not anymore, I won’t!

The song reminds me that he doesn’t always need to be my strength, but a prompt to show me that sometimes I need to be his too. I need to build my own force to replace my way back. I need to hold him up and face whatever reality comes when my body wakes up. Maybe that’s why my mind doesn’t want me to wake up. It’s afraid that what Ray did to me will make me hide in the shadows again, that I won’t be able to love Jake and let him in the ways I did before Ray tried to kill me. But it’s not going to be like that this time. I need to be the one to put the pieces back together in the aftermath of what happened. I need to accept help from others who only want me to feel loved and safe, but I also need to be the one to put Jake back together after this. He will need me to help him get through this. His guilt will eat at him if I don’t.

I bite at a tinkle of defiance, growing into something more.

I’m stronger than this.

I push with every ounce of strength and stubbornness within me and aim for the light trying with all my might to break free. I can feel it; every ounce of my being comes together and fights with an almost deafening pain. The exhaustion of trying to wake up is virtually drowning me back down into the darkness. I know I’ll only need one push to break the barrier holding me here, that once I leave this place, I’ll be free and never return again. The confines of my prison will fall away, and I’ll be free.

I CAN DO THIS.

I push with everything within me, all I’ve got, but reality comes up too fast, and my senses go into overdrive with the sudden explosion of noises, smells, and sounds consuming my brain, and the pain and aches of my body overwhelm me all at once. The harsh lights from the room are blinding even with my eyes closed. From one side, the smell of coffee and flowers rushes up to nose into my brain, and I can feel the softness of a bed under me. My body is heavy, and my limbs are aching too much to move, but I know I can move them if I try. I suddenly feel connected to the heaviness I know is me and no longer floating in some weird tunnel. My face aches, and my eyes are glued shut. My mouth is dry and cracked, and suddenly nausea consumes me.

Yet, somehow, through all of that, I know I’m here with him, in his reality and not in some dream-like state anymore on the other side. I can hear the hum of machines, the noise of something blowing air in and out, and the mumbling sounds of hushed voices passing by in the distance.

“I just don’t know what else to do, baby.” Jake’s voice breaks and tears me in two. The sound of defeat and broken-hearted pain is so obvious, I can almost sense his body sagging close to me, and I can hear his breathing so very close, the smell of his aftershave and just him luring me out of my haze.

I blink my eyes and become brutally aware of the bright white crisp surroundings and agonizing light over my head, buzzing like an electronic device about to explode. Blinking harshly to try to adjust and fighting the will to close them once more as pain envelopes my skull.

Warm heat envelops my right hand securely, a touch I’d know from anywhere, and it brings my full focus and attention straight to the one person I want to see and feel right now. My eyes flicker once more before finally being able to open enough to see things. I gaze down at my hand before taking in my surroundings.

His large tanned hand grasps at my lifeless delicate one, and I look so pale in comparison. He’s holding on desperately, fingers entwined softly, dwarfing my hand inside his. That strong forearm exposed his olive skin and hints of tattoos along his inner arm under the rolled-up sleeve of the shirt I saw him put on the day he left the house. It’s rumpled and wrinkled, and my eyes follow the length of his arm up to his beautiful face.

My Jake. My beautiful reason for fighting to hold on.

The sight of him makes my heart explode in my chest, as though we’ve been apart for months, and I’m only just seeing him. He’s sat on a chair, slumped forward with his face in his palm and facing the floor. He’s still wearing the same clothes he wore the day he left for the office, minus his tie and jacket, but his hair is a mess, and his face is unshaven; his posture is screaming with emotional agony. He looks completely awful and ridiculously delicious; I couldn’t love my little lost boy any more than I do right now. His brave attempt at domineering when it’s obvious he’s anything but. He looks broken beyond belief.

I clear my throat at seeing that gorgeous, beautiful sight, the man who makes my heart soar and suddenly feel so safe; with him so close, I know I’ll always be protected.

His head snaps up at the noise, and I feel like I’ve been slapped. All thoughts of chastising him are gone as soon as I lay eyes on the face that means the world to me. He looks devastated. His eyes are bloodshot, red-rimmed, and tired. His face is ashen and drained of all life. Seeing him this way hits me in the gut, a mirror image of the broken Jake who betrayed me so long ago.

“Emma, Bambina!” He jumps to his feet, his palm hitting a button on the wall, and he starts cradling my hand against his face. His eyes are wild, he doesn’t know whether to cry or smile, and he’s unsure if he should even be touching me. Hands hovering in case he hurts me, unable to conceal the trembling of his body. “Jesus, baby, oh God, Emma … I didn’t think you were going to wake up.” A single tear escapes his eye and slides slowly down his face. “I’ve never been so scared … I couldn’t breathe.” He leans in, kissing me softly on the mouth, and I take great delight in being able to enjoy it. I lift a hand to his neck to pull myself closer to him and lose myself completely in everything that is him. He pulls away and gently strokes my hair, a slight, tensing throb running across my face at the touch.

“Jake.” I croak softly. My voice is weak and hoarse and almost non-existent. I’m suddenly so tired, and my emotions start to tumble out of me as a tear escapes and rolls down my face. The pang inside my abdomen hits me as though somehow being conscious reminds me of my baby, we’d been apart in my dream world, but now that I am back here, I can feel her clinging on … somehow, I know she’s still connected to me even if she’s so very weak.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry … I should’ve been there. I should’ve known. It was so monumentally fucking stupid of me to have not done a major background check on the people I left in our fucking house … I should’ve made sure, back in Chicago, he would never come back.” He’s rambling, all emotions set loose, eyes brimming, and body trembling. I grip his fingers to try to bring him some comfort, trying to calm him with my touch. I want to be the strength for him that he is to me, the one that helped me come back from the darkness.

“Jake … stop … please … This isn’t your fault.” I grate out painfully as soft, gentle tears fall down my bruised and aching face. I flinch when his hand brushes them away, my face aching more with every second my eyes open. I can’t ignore the awful painful agony in my foot and glance down to see some tent monstrosity over the top, keeping the blankets from touching my leg. I’m guessing it’s in a cast.

Jake leans in and kisses my forehead in a bid to calm himself, breathing in fast and seemingly unable to take in the fact that I am awake.

“Ouch,” I yelp, and he recoils.

“Shit … I’m sorry, Bambina. Fuck … Oh, baby, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jake breaks down again and cries over me, leaning down to lay his head on my neck, making my heart ache right through my chest for him.

The doctor appears in the doorway with a professional smile reaching his eyes as Jake’s gentle hands cradle me close, never once letting me go. I could lie like this with him connected to me forever.

“Miss. Anderson, welcome back. Let’s take a little look at you now you’re awake.”