Impulse - The Companion to Pulse (Pulse 4.50)

I don't give a fuck about her work. I don't give a shit about anything other than the things that she's doing with the other guy who waltzed into Axel in a suit. The guy she kissed.

"Why?" I ask, trying desperately to not reach out and pull her into me. One part of me feels repulsed by the idea of her with anyone else. The other part of me is watching her tremble. She needs me to anchor her emotions. She needs to hold tight to me so she can find the strength within herself to confess. I fist my hands at my side, trying to ward off the almost compulsive need I feel to embrace her.

Her gaze drops to my hands and I see her tense. "I'm scared to tell you."

I've never harmed Jessica. I can't. It's not within the fabric of my body or soul to cause her any discomfort, other than the fleeting bite of it when I'm buried completely inside of her. "I won't hurt you, Jessica," I say the words to appease her. I need her to know that she's safe with me. Regardless of what she's about to confess, I'm not going to lash out. I can't either verbally or physically.

"I would never hurt you." Her tone is unyielding. "I would cut off my leg before I'd hurt you, Nathan."

I charge forward, pulling her small body into my chest. I rest my chin against the top of her head. I wrap my arms around her back. She's sobbing now. "Just tell me."

"I can't." Her hands skim across the front of my shirt. "I don't know how to."

I reach up to cup her cheeks in my hands. I graze my lips softly across her forehead. "You can tell me anything. I can tell you anything. This is us."

She nods as tears stream steadily from her eyes. "I love you more than anything, Nathan."

I see the promise of those words in her eyes. She means it. She's not just saying it to quiet something that is roaring within me. She's saying it because it's her truth. It's what she feels. I see it.

"Sasha said another man came to see you at Axel," I say the words gently. "Is it about him?"

Befo

re I can react she pushes back, her face loses all of its color, her hands fly in the air and she's on her heel headed for the door.

"No, no, no…" she repeats over and over. "She had no right to tell you."

I don't move. I can't. Her reaction is screaming at me. "Don't walk out of here, Jessica."

She turns back, her face a cloudy mess of tears and anger. "You were checking up on me."

It's immature and thoughtless. She's retreating back to the same girl she was when I met her at the club. She's the girl who bolted at the first sign of trouble. "I was looking for you because I missed you." I don't mince the words. There's no reason to. It's the truth, plain and simple.

"You've been different since we got back from my sister's wedding."

I take a moment to process the statement. It's accusatory even if it's not meant to be. Is she seriously pushing this back on me? Is she going to blame me for what she's been doing? "What?" I bark the word out as I take a heavy step towards her. "Are you fucking kidding me, Jessica?"

She pushes her back into the door. Her hand leaps to the doorknob. It's instinctive. She's searching for her escape route if this gets too heavy. I have to admit, I'm impressed that she hasn't left the building in a mad dash yet. "No. I'm not fucking kidding you, Nathan," she hisses. "Something has been up your ass since then and you refuse to talk about it."

"You're right." My hand flies into the air and past her to settle on the door. I move forward again, trapping her where she's standing. "There is something up my ass."

"What?" She pulls her chin up in an act of defiance. She's not backing down. She's not going to retreat on this. "What the fuck happened there?"

I lean down, my lips hovering close to hers. I look her directly in the eyes as I very softly and clearly whisper. "The senator, Jessica. You fucked a senator."

Chapter 9

Time doesn't move for what feels like endless moments as her tear filled gaze jumps from my lips to my eyes. I watch as a veil of confusion overtakes her. Her knees buckle, her hands reach for the wood plank that is the door as she slowly slides down it.

"Jessica." I scoop my arm around her waist, catching her mid fall. "Jessica, please."

She doesn't speak. I don't know if it's because she's unwilling or if the weight of the air between us is holding her back. She raises her hand to shield her face. Her sobs overtake her. I hold her close, wishing I hadn't thrown that at her the way I did. She's fragile. She's always been too fragile for her own good.

"You should sit down." I scoop her up in my arms in one easy movement and carry her into the room. Her arms hang limp at her sides. Her eyes are staring a path straight through me. I place her down carefully on the couch.

"I'm sorry." The words escape her lips in such a quiet tone that I have to strain to make out each word. "I'm sorry," she repeats, this time no louder than the last.

I kneel in front of her. Any resistance that she was holding onto at the door has evaporated. She's broken and weak. She's rocking back and forth on the cushion, the rhythmic movement of her body making a sliding sound on the leather. It's the only sound invading the unending silence in the room.