by Jewel E. Ann
“Effing?”
“Yes, fucking,” she whispered.
He roared a big laugh that only turned her face true crimson. “Why…” he tried to catch his breath through his laughter “…are you whispering? Are you worried about Gunner hearing you or God? Because I’m quite certain that dog has already told me to back the fuck away from you in more than one language, and I know you haven’t been to church in a while, but as far as I know, God can still read minds.”
“Well excuse me, Mr. Vulgar, I didn’t grow up using explicit language, and I had a baby before I had a chance to sow any wild oats and making a habit of using the F-word as an adjective and adverb to every single word in the English language. Don’t people realize it starts to lose its effect after a while? It’s like putting an explanation point at the end of every sentence.
‘I’m going to wake the F up tomorrow and roll the F out of my effing bed, and take an effing hot shower before I effing eat an effing bowl of cereal. Then I’m going to get the F going to my first effing job, then meet my effing amazing boyfriend for an effing good lunch, and then if I’m done with my effing period we might F a few times until we’re effing exhausted.’”
Jackson’s body vibrated with laughter. “Am I the ‘effing amazing boyfriend’ in your little story?”
Ryn kissed along his chest, following the lines of ink. “Maybe.”
“Maybe, huh? I can work with that. So before you went off on your effing tangent, what were you going to tell me?”
Ryn paused, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I miss my daughter. She’s so stubborn, and naive, and some days even cruel. I see that, I really do. But she’s this huge part of my heart and I can’t be on the other side of this wall that she’s built between us. Maddie’s my child, I love her unconditionally. I would give my life for her, that will never change. So … I’m dropping the restraining order. And if that puts me in danger, then so be it.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she never stopped looking at him.
“I’m sorry if you think that makes me a bad mom, or a terrible role model, or just a pathetically weak person in general. The day I chose not to get the abortion Preston wanted me to get was the day I chose my daughter. It was my unspoken vow that I would always choose her no matter what. That is the example I want to set for Maddie.”
He brushed his thumb along her freckled cheek, catching her tears. She sniffled with a sad smile tugging at her mouth.
“If we’re over. I get it. I’ll always think of our time as a really long birthday celebration.” Ryn shrugged. “You’ve always felt like a dream anyway.”
He brought his other thumb up, brushing both of her tear-drenched cheeks at the same time. Ryn closed her eyes, biting her quivering lips together.
“Ryn Middleton … do you love me?”
She swallowed through a small sob, squeezing her eyes tighter, setting more tears free. “Don’t do this … please.”
“I’m sorry. I have to do this. I know Maddie owns so much of your heart, so much of your life. But the only way I can know if we’re over is to ask you if you love me. Do you have enough of your heart left to give to me? Will you love our babies with as much of your heart and as fiercely as you love Maddie?”
Another sob.
“If you can answer yes, then we’re never over. I’ve only loved three women in my life. The first gave me life, the second crowded me in the womb, and the third is a hot mess mere inches from my heart right now. And I hope … I might even be praying right now that she says yes because I love her … I love you, Ryn, so effing much.”
Her sobs filled the room as her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried in it as he held her to him.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”
Jackson smiled with her confession.
“But you just wouldn’t leave my heart alone.”
He chuckled. “I’ll never leave your heart alone.”
She drew in a shaky breath, bringing her head up to look at him. “I’m so scared.”
His brows furrowed. “What are you scared of?”
“That I won’t be able to give you everything you want.”
“I just want everything you can give me.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
He smiled, bringing her mouth slowly to his. “It already is.”
*
Relentless thoughts robbed Ryn of all sleep, so she eased off Jackson’s chest and slipped out of bed.
She nodded her head to Gunner, who seemed more interested in standing guard at her bedroom door than having an early breakfast. She couldn’t complain. He did exactly what he was trained to do.
“Come.”
He rose to all fours and followed her downstairs. The sun wasn’t even up yet, so she brewed her coffee and fed Gunner a few treats before wrapping up in a blanket on her favorite overstuffed chair with her laptop. Her social media was limited to Pinterest. Facebook and Twitter made Preston’s unscrupulous lurking too easy so she stuck to pinning her dreams on boards.
She had a board for all the renovations she dreamed about doing to her house, none of which she could afford while helping Maddie with her college tuition. Her foodie board had tons of recipes she never made because cooking for one wasn’t worth the time. Vacation boards, book boards, movies, music, poetry, quotes … the only board missing was a Jackson board.
With an evil smile, she clicked the add board button.
Knight, she typed.
Over the next hour she proceeded to add pictures to her new board: Vera Wang wedding dresses, Ed Sheeran song lyrics, tattoos, and eventually she gathered the nerve to add a few photos of baby carriers and stylish pregnancy clothes.
Marriage? Babies? Is that what she said yes to?
Gunner jumped up and took his post at the bottom of the stairs like a security guard as Jackson made his way down. Ryn quickly closed her computer.
“I didn’t know you were a morning person.”
She smiled. “I’m not. I just couldn’t sleep … a lot on my mind.” Her smile faded at him fully dressed. “You don’t have to go. I made coffee and I’ll make you breakfast.”
He stopped a few feet in front of her chair with his thumbs hooked into his back pockets. “I need a run and a shower.”
She nodded. “Can I make you dinner tonight?” Maybe something on her foodie board would actually come to fruition in her kitchen.
His lack of an immediate answer opened the door for doubt to creep into the mind of a woman who struggled to stay afloat in the pool of insanity. Perhaps he regretted something or everything. Setting her computer on the ottoman, she stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around her.
“If you think my cooking sucks maybe you should just tell me now so I can yell at you, nurse my wounded ego for the day, and then we can make up later over takeout.”
He inched his head slowly side to side, a dark look filled his eyes. Ryn recognized it. It was the same look that had led to the roughest sex of her life on several occasions the previous week. It made her heart race like chased prey.
He sucked in his bottom lip and dragged it through his teeth, closing the distance between them. With one firm tug he ripped the blanket from her body. Palming the back of her head he kissed her. Just as she suspected, it was hard, demanding, and bruising her lips as his tongue filled her mouth. His other hand grabbed her ass so hard she whimpered from the pain, but she was too turned on by his kiss to make any further objection.
The moan from deep in his throat coupled with the bruises forming on her ass beneath his fingers led her to believe she could end up on the sofa with his dick shoving her tampon a mile up her vagina. It’s like he had an evil spirit possessing his body, and she wasn’t sure what triggered its presence.
She whimpered into his mouth again and he released her.
He nodded, resting his forehead on hers, completely breathless. “Yes. Dinner. Tonight.”
Ryn blinked, and blinked, and blinke
d some more as he walked out the door and to his car with a stiff gait, fists clenched.
Grimacing with a hiss of a breath, she rubbed her butt cheek. The wedding and babies were officially on a serious wait-and-see list.
Chapter Thirty-One
AJ wanted to go to Houston to meet up with an old air force buddy. When they arrived in town he didn’t remember making that suggestion or any buddy of his who lived in Houston. Jillian died a little in that moment. The great big world felt suffocating, crushing, and a little too much to bear on her own.
She needed the grumpy, regimented, reads-the-paper-cover-to-cover-every-morning neighbor who gave her a sense of control—but he was lost in the mere shell of a man that sat across from her, picking at his salad.
She needed the brilliantly focused, paranoid but often right, possessive-and-protective-to-the-extreme brother who gave her the strength to fight back when life felt like a candy-stealing bully—but he was losing his own sanity between the man who wanted to be a husband and a father and the man who felt the need to kill in the name of keeping twins buried six feet under in San Francisco.
Jillian jumped from the clang of AJ’s fork bouncing off the table and onto the floor. “I’ll get you another fork.”
“Jillian?” AJ rested both hands flat on the table, fingers spread, chin down, eyes closed.
“Are you okay?” She reached across the table and rested her hand on his.
His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths as he shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them wide and squeezed them shut again.
“I can’t … I can’t see very well.”
She died a little more.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she gripped his hand and whispered, “Tell me what you want me to do.” She hoped he didn’t notice the tremble in her voice. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
AJ shook his head, keeping his eyes closed, head bowed.
“I can get us a plane back to Portland. Maybe there’s something your doctors can do.”
Another slow head shake. “Take me back to the hotel.”
She nodded, but after a moment, reality hit her. He. Couldn’t. See. Her.
After pinning some cash under the napkin dispenser, she stood and walked around the table. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he slowly scooted his chair out and stood, bumping the edge of the table enough to knock over a water glass.
“Fuck.”
“It’s fine,” she whispered again, knowing her voice would shatter into an avalanche of emotions if she said too much.
Taking his hand, she led him out of the restaurant and to the Jeep. They didn’t speak on the way to the hotel. AJ rested his head against the window with his eyes closed. She hoped he slept and when he woke his vision would return.
No such luck.
When they arrived back at their hotel room, he sat on the edge of the bed. All she could do was sit across from him on the opposing bed, watching him stare blankly at the floor, occasionally blinking hard as if he could blink or shake away the blurriness—the impending darkness.
“It’s time,” his voice broke just above a whisper.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand and realized she forgot to give him his pain medication with dinner.
“Sorry, I forgot.” Digging into her bag, she pulled out the bottle and set it on the nightstand then headed to the bathroom to get water.
When she returned she grabbed his hand to give him the water. He curled his fingers around it. The next few seconds happened in slow motion. As he brought the glass to his mouth she reached for the bottle. The cap was off and it was empty.
“No!” She whipped around knocking the glass from his hand. Shoving his head towards his knees, she dug her fingers into his mouth and began ripping out pills as he coughed. Losing his balance, he tumbled forward onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” she yelled, straddling his body while shoving his head to the side to retrieve the rest of the pills before he could swallow.
He continued to cough around her fingers digging into his mouth as he grabbed her wrists.
Content with the large scattering of expelled pills all over the floor, she collapsed onto him, banging his chest with her fists. “Why? Why? Why? I don’t understand!”
His hands rested on her back as she continued to fist and claw at him. “I told you … it’s time.”
She sat up, tears racing down her red, blotchy face. “It was time to take one pill. One. Fucking. Pill!” She grabbed the sides of his head and leaned forward resting her forehead on his. “Look at me,” she whispered. “Please.”
AJ opened his eyes. “I can barely see you.” He closed them again. Down the side of his face a lone tear fell. His. Fucking. Tear.
*
That night he had another seizure and later vomited before falling to sleep. Jillian didn’t sleep at all. She packed their suitcases and sent a text off to Jackson.
Jillian: Be home tomorrow night.
Jackson: Alone?
Jillian: No.
Jackson: I’m fine. I don’t need you to rush home.
Jillian: I need you.
Jackson: Safe travels.
Then she called McGraw.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning. West. Fucking. Coast. I’m changing my number,” he grumbled.
“I need a private jet from Houston to Omaha tomorrow.”
“He died?”
She gritted her teeth and blinked back the tears. “No, but he’s losing his sight, and I’ll need assistance from the hotel to the airport. Please don’t act like you don’t know where I’m staying. I spotted your guys following me yesterday.”
“I have to keep an eye on you when you call me every other day asking for ridiculous favors.”
“I’m done asking after this.”
He laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She had no emotion left, not even enough to yell at him and tell him how much she hated him … how much he added to the ruination of her life.
“Text me the details when you get everything arranged.” Letting her head fall back into the wall of the hallway outside of the hotel room, she pressed End, wishing more than anything she could press that same button on her emotions … on her own life.
By eight o’clock her phone chimed with a text from McGraw, mapping out the times and details for their transfer back to Omaha.
“AJ?” She gently shook him, but it took her saying his name several more times and intense shaking to bring him out of sleep.
He peeled his eyes open.
She was afraid to ask, but she had to. “Can you see?”
He nodded once. “It comes and goes.” He blinked hard.
She sighed. “We’re leaving in an hour.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
AJ’s expression tensed. “Portland.”
“Omaha.”
“Why?”
Jillian laughed. It was all she could do at that point. “Because you tried to overdose on pain pills right in front of me last night.”
“So you’re punishing me.”
“Punishing you? Oh my God. It’s not a punishment. I’m not taking you back to your parents’ and dropping you on their door step with a Post-It note that says, ‘Blind and Suicidal.’ I just want to go back to Omaha with you.”
“It’s not going to change anything.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Let’s get you into the shower. Our ride will be here in less than an hour now.”
“Our ride?” he asked as she helped him get out of bed.
“Yes. My drug dealer has arranged transportation to the airport and private jet.”
“Priv—”
“And please don’t ask me anything else about it because I can assure you in the scope of things right now, it really doesn’t matter.”
*
Jillian helped AJ to the hotel lobby fifteen minutes before their ride was supposed to be there.
“Sit here. I’m going to have the concierge send someone back up for our bags. I’ll be right back.”
AJ eased into the leather chair next to the lobby fountain.
She removed the hairband from her wrist and twisted her tangled blond locks into a messy bun then slipped on her sunglass. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from too many tears and no sleep.
“Good morning. How may I help you?”
Jillian handed the concierge her room keys. “Room 349. Jillian Knight. Could you have someone bring our bags down to the lobby, please?”
“Absolutely, Miss Knight.”
“Thank you.”
She turned and nearly ran into the gentleman in line behind her.
“Pardon me.” He smiled with a nod and stepped around her as she looked down to retrieve her phone from her handbag.
“Jessica?”
For the first time in nearly a year … she felt her heart. It beat just feet from her. “Luke,” she breathed his name with the first true breath she’d taken in nearly a year. And when she looked up … she saw her heart.
He looked just like she remembered—perfect. Except, all the blood had drained from his face. He eased his hand toward her head. She needed to stop him, she needed to flee, she needed to do something, but she couldn’t. For a mere second in time she felt every cell in her body come to life.
Luke ever so slowly slid off her sunglasses. His mouth dropped open. He looked at a ghost. She stared at a mirage because out of the corner of her eye she saw several men in suits coming to take him away. The clock ticked no matter how much she wished to be frozen in time at that very moment. She’d dreamed of seeing him again since the day she last saw him at the cemetery. What do you say to the person who gave you everything?
Tick tock.
Two men grabbed his arms, but he still didn’t take his eyes off her.
Say something, her mind screamed.
“Luke … thank you.” A flicker of a smile touched her lips as they pulled him toward the large revolving door.
Once he was outside she could see him yell her name as if something inside him awoke and he began to fight back, but it was too late. Two seconds later they had him stuffed into the back of a black SUV speeding away from the curb.
