His gaze drifted to the open door, staring out into the corridor before finally answering my question.
“Tate called the cops. Your dad fired, Tate jumped and took the bullet. The cops came running in the minute the shot rang out. They witnessed your father shooting Tate, the Glock was still smoking when they arrested him,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the corridor.
“You and I both know he’ll get off,” I whispered, the words weighing heavy on my chest. “He always does.”
“Something tells me he isn’t going to get off lightly this time, babe.” His eyes shifted over to mine, glossy and glazed over. I couldn’t read Jace. I never could and right then, I had no idea what the whole glossy eyes meant. Something told me I didn’t want to.
For the first time since we had met all those years ago, there was an awkward silence, as if he wasn’t telling me everything. I, not knowingly, yearned to know. Secrets are a two way street: you speak one aloud while simultaneously hiding one within your own mind. We all have secrets, every last one of us. Secrets are sugarcoated lies, hidden within our own mind. Just because you don’t speak it doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.
The truth doesn’t cost anything, but a lie could cost you everything.
I’ve lied, cheated, manipulated and deceived: holding back secrets, producing half-truths to try and rid the guilt about what the whole truth meant.
I am Willow Knoxx, master of deception, secrets and lies. I am Low Parker, the girl just wanting to break free of her past. A nameless face with multiple personalities. One’s a liar, a cheat, a fraud. The other? A fraud, but one who wanted to be caught.
I had no doubt a therapist would have a field day with me.
“Come on, I can smell that damn cupcake from here and it’s got my name written all over it.” Jace smiled, throwing my clothes at me. I dressed quickly before he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the room and down the corridor with so much speed I couldn’t keep up.
“Jesus, Jace. Slow down!” I laughed, quickly regretting it as it slipped from my lips.
Guilt gripped me. How could I laugh when the man I loved was lying in a bed? The man who was shot because of me, because of my lies? I stopped in my tracks, pulling against Jace’s grip.
His eyes found mine, silently questioning me. “I feel so guilty.”
Tears formed and built as I stood in the middle of the corridor, hugging myself as I felt the guilt wash over me.
“You tried to protect him, Willow. We tried to protect everyone, but guess what? You can’t protect the heart: it wants what it wants.” He shrugged, placing his hand in mine. “Come on, babe. I need to feed you.”
Nodding slightly, I closed my hand around his and let him all but drag me to the canteen where he sat with the biggest smile on his face as he devoured the cupcake.
“Do you need a bib? A napkin… something?” I smirked, swallowing down a laugh as I noticed chocolate frosting on his top lip.
“Fon’t fate, Fillow.”
“Sorry, what? I can’t understand a word you’re saying with all…” I waved my hand in front of his mouth. “… that going on. Seriously! Bite. Chew. Swallow. Is it so hard to eat like a normal person?”
He swallowed, smirking as he wiped his hands. “Don’t hate. Chocolate is a man’s best friend too, you know.”
“Or his worst enemy, in your case. What happened to getting ready for your next fight?”
He eyes drifted to the crumbs on the table. “You know we can’t go back to that.”
Huh?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean things are going to start changing.”
“Stop talking cryptic and tell me what you’re talking about,” I said, irritated with the run around he was giving me.
“I received a call an hour ago,” he said, bringing his eyes back to mine. “I can’t go back, Willow.”
I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what he was telling me. He slid his coffee towards me, an action I was so used to doing with him over the last couple of weeks. It felt like a peace offering. I didn’t like it.
“I’ve been summoned. I can’t ignore it now,” he whispered.
He had been summoned by his family, his own mafia family. Holy shit.
“Do they know? I mean, do they know where you’ve been all this time?” I gulped, hoping that what we’d done had been kept hidden from the Rowe family.
“Yes. Yes, they know.” He sighed. “Listen, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you from that table, Willow. You know as well as I do, even if your father is prosecuted and does time for what he did, he’ll still get out eventually. He has connections, ones that could completely tear apart everything we have tried to build.”
My world crumbled for the second time that day. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.
“Jace, there is no way in hell. I’m not stepping foot anywhere near that manor.”
“I know you don’t want to, but if your father is inside, you’ll have to take the chair,” he mumbled. “Look, you could always take the chair and vote someone in as lead. You don’t have to be the head of the family, Willow. You have a choice.”
“Kill or be killed.”
Story of my life.
“I’ll kill whoever stands in your way, Willow. Never forget that.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tears spilled from my eyes as I stared at the man who had completely stolen my heart, the man who looked nothing like the one I had fallen for. Machines surrounded him, beeping intermittently, reading his vitals. The doctor said he was stable. Stable? This is what they called stable?
He looked as though he was sleeping, but the color from his beautiful olive face had completely disappeared. I watched, watched in absolute agony as a nurse checked his vitals, moving around the room without a care in the world.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Come and take a seat,” the nurse cooed at me.
My eyes were trained on Tate, so unmoving, so still. I hadn’t noticed Jace’s hands on my shoulders until I felt my knees giving out from beneath me as he walked us towards Tate’s bedside.
“It’s okay, babe. I’ve got you,” Jace whispered into my ear, the sound registering but no longer filling me with the hope it used to.
Maybe hoping was just naïve.
I could feel my body shaking as Jace all but put me into the chair, my hands fisting within my lap.
“He’s fully sedated, but he can hear you,” the nurse said as she handed me a small cup of water. “I’m Julianne. I will be part of the six nurse team that’s looking after your young man.”
My eyes widened as I finally registered her voice. It wasn’t a voice I recognized but it was helping me feel calm amongst the chaos, like a soothing song in a world of white noise.
“Dr. Carter is one of two doctors who will be taking care of Tate. We’re just about to do a shift change, but someone will come and check in with you soon.” She smiled softly, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder before nodding towards Jace and leaving the room.
“He looks so… lifeless,” I whispered after a beat. I didn’t know if it was aimed at Jace, Tate or myself. It was intended as a statement, but sounded like a question.
“He’s strong, babe. He’s already proved that, but his body needs rest. We can all fight the bullet if needed, but the body can’t fight against exhaustion. He’ll be okay.” He paused, his gaze landing on Tate’s pale skin on his face. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
I hadn’t even noticed Jace leaving the room. The room was silent except for the sounds of the machines beeping and Tate’s ventilator breathing for him. A wave of emotions suddenly hit me like a sledgehammer. Pain, grief, guilt. So much guilt. This was all my fault, I had gotten too close, too tangledin Tate, that I ultimately put him at risk, no matter how much I tried to stop it.
Tears rolled painfully down my face as I reached out for his right hand. It was warm, so warm. Taking his
hand in both of mine, I leaned forward, pressing my soaking cheek against his warm flesh and closing my eyes.
“You need to wake up soon, baby. I know you’re tired but I need you to get better and wake up.”
Turning my cheek, I ran my nose up and down the skin on the back of his hand, inhaling as he would do to my skin. He smelt like summer: warm days and sunshine. My heart fluttered from his scent. Even in the state he was in, he could still make me feel.
“I’m so sorry I lied.” I sniffed, feeling the hot, wet tears mar his beautifully warm skin. “I lied so much to try and protect you, and you were still hurt. I’m so sorry.”
“None of this is your fault, Low.”
Logan’s voice cut deep within my gut, the whisper of my alias stinging like a knife running through my throat.
“Logan,” I ground out. I was angry: angry with myself, angry with others for not stopping me from lying. I was being irrational. How were they to know about my lies, my past, the deceit? “Do you know who I am?”
I felt his footsteps before I could hear them against the floor. He took a seat in the only other chair in the room, the one opposite mine.
“You’re Low Parker, my best friend’s girl, and this…” he said, pointing at an immobile Tate, “isn’t your fault.”
I closed my eyes tight as I moved my face away from Tate’s warmth, turning my head towards Logan.
“No, Logan. I’m Willow Knoxx. My father is Jaxson Knoxx, the son of a bitch who shot your best friend. He shot your best friend because his daughter wouldn’t sit at the top of the family table.”
I stood, my hand leaving Tate’s, my body instantly missing the contact. My gaze was hard as I watched the shock hit Logan’s face. It was subtle, but it was there.
“I’m a killer and a liar, and a damn good one at that. Don’t sugarcoat this shit, Logan. You’re not Willy fucking Wonka. This can’t be fixed like Neva, you can’t nurture this shit. I was born into a mafia family. My father is one of the biggest mob bosses within the US. I’ve been lying. The man you know as Ace? That’s an alias. His name is Jace Rowe, son to Julias Rowe, the mob boss. Lies, Logan. All fucking lies.”
“Are you done with your self-pity, Low?” he asked, raising his brow as he stood in front of me. He was at least a foot taller than me, but it wasn’t intimidating. “Because to be honest, I don’t think anyone gives a shit about who you were. You’re not the same person anymore, Low. You refused to be that person. Jace already filled us in on what happened with your father. He also told us exactly who you are and who he is. Your past doesn’t define you. I will tell you, and I’ll tell Neva until the moon shines out of my god damn ass. Never let your past define who you are. The past has gone, the future’s a mystery, but the present is a gift. So open your fucking gift, maybe you’ll find peace in the present inside it.”
Suddenly I was gripped into a tight hold, Logan’s arms wrapped around my small frame like a blanket. His warmth catapulted into my cold bones, helping warm the shell I had been hiding in for years. The mask, the façade, the hidden girl that was screaming to be released broke the barrier. The fractures had completely burst open, spilling its contents for all to see. I was no longer in hiding, no longer holding back secrets. I no longer had reasons to lie.
Tears formed again, building in intensity as Logan held me tighter. All of a sudden, I was crying. Hard, ugly tears escaped me as I held on for a dear life. Every single tear represented all the lies, deceit, and hurt I had caused, and what I had been through to protect someone who had ultimately seen through the lies from the very beginning and fell in love with the girl who had been in hiding for so long.
“This isn’t your fault, Low,” he whispered over and over as he rocked me gently, soothing the painful ache in my chest.
“He could die, Logan.” I sniffed, the tears still coming hard.
“I know, darlin’,” he whispered on a shaky breath. “But his love for you will help him fight. I promise.”
Logan held me until the tears stopped flowing and only the ragged sound of my hiccups echoed around the room. My body was drained. Only Logan holding me upright. I was quickly bundled into the cove of Logan’s chest as he sat down with me on his lap, and like a small child I closed my eyes, and prayed silently.
Please let him live.
As Logan lulled me into exhausted sleep, the room filled with friends and family. The painful ache in my chest making it harder to breathe with every person who entered, the guilt eating at my heart. Everyone was in the room within minutes: Neva, Jace, Colt, Zane and Lorena. All of them congregating around myself and Tate’s bed.
My eyes fluttered open for long enough to catch Lorena’s hand on my hair, stroking it as if soothing me while Neva held onto Logan’s free hand. It was then I realized I wasn’t blamed for what happened to Tate; instead, they were helping me through the pain of what happened. Fresh tears appeared from their kindness, kindness I didn’t deserve.
Darkness surrounded me as I fell into a disturbed sleep in the warm alcove of Logan’s chest, holding onto hope that Tate was strong enough to pull through all of this.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Three days.
Three long and painful days since Tate was taken off his sedation and his ventilator was removed, and he still hadn’t woken up. The doctors were reassuring us that his body just needed time to rest. Every minute that ticked by felt like a god damn eternity. I missed the sound of his voice, the way he would yawn with a husky whisper in the morning, the way his gravelly laugh would fill my stomach with butterflies. I missed him. I wanted him back.
The chair at his bedside had become my new home, only getting out of it when my bladder would scream out at me to pee. Friends and family would come in and out, staying an hour here and there, bringing me food and spare clothes. But I didn’t care for eating; my stomach was still in knots with every minute that ticked by unchanged. And just getting changed into clean clothes felt too challenging. I only wanted to be by his side, to lead a normal life with the man I loved.
Tate’s doctor, Dr. Carter, had dropped by early that morning, checking the wound on Tate’s stomach. He said he was healing well and there had been no complications. He was positive Tate would pull through and would be back on his feet in no time. It was just a waiting game – not a game I wanted to play.
I slowly ran my fingers over the soft skin of Tate’s palm. I missed his touch. I missed the way he would be so alpha, yet so caring, I missed the way he would hold me, care for me, thrill me. That thought filled me with happiness and so much sorrow as I placed my right hand in Tate’s.
“Any change?”
Jace’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned to Jace; my eyes widened as I noticed my suitcase in his right hand, the one I had packed the day my father’s men had taken us.
“How did you get that?” I asked, eyeing the case.
“The police released it from evidence this morning. You know they’re going to want to talk to you about what happened?” he asked, placing the small case next to my chair beside my feet.
“What’s the point? He’s going to get off scot free like he always does,” I said, tears building in my eyes. “What am I going to do if he comes for me again? It’s not just me anymore, Jace. I won’t leave him again.”
His dark chocolate eyes locked with mine as he walked around Tate’s bed and took a seat in a chair. “He isn’t going to get out,” he stated flatly. “The police placed him on remand until they complete witness testimonies.”
“Let me guess, there were no other witnesses besides us?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked; I knew there wouldn’t be.
“No. But he isn’t getting out, babe,” he said surely.
How the hell could he be so sure he wouldn’t get out? I didn’t understand.
“What aren’t you telling me, Jace?”
“They found him dead this morning.”
A large gasp escaped my lips as Jace’s words penetrated my mind, my heart break
ing. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why I felt pain ripping through my chest at his words. Why would I feel some sort of remorse for the man who threatened to kill me? Why would I have any form of emotions to the man who shot the love of my life?
I suppose my want for a normal life, a normal family overshadowed the feelings I should have had towards my father. Hatred, pain, disdain – I felt none of those. Instead, I felt the need to try to love the man who ruined my future by fathering me.
“I’m so fucking confused,” I whispered. “What happened?”
“I did something I’m not proud of,” Jace said, his eyes hollow.
“Oh, Jace. What have you done?”
“I sacrificed one life for another, and that’s all I’m going to tell you,” he said, standing from the chair and making his way over to me. Standing before me, he placed the softest kiss against my forehead. “I love you, Little Willow. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Those were his only parting words as he left the room and, unbeknown to me, walked right out of my life.
With a heavy sigh, I slowly opened my suitcase beside my chair, my right hand still holding on tight to Tate’s as I did.
Sitting front and center in my case was my jar of hearts, my mason jar of lies. I lifted my hand from Tate’s. Picking up the mason jar with both hands, I studied every single lie that sat within the prison of glass.
“So many lies,” I whispered.
With shaky hands, I unscrewed the lid. For a moment I thought if I removed the lid, it would somehow release my sins and wipe the slate clean of all my lies. But, in truth, I knew it would never heal the hurt I had caused.
“How’s my man doing?”
I startled slightly at the sound of Jenna’s voice, Tate’s regular nurse who’d taken a shinning to him. The first time we had met her, she told us that Tate was the most handsome patient she was looking after. I think I would’ve been offended hadn’t she been in her late fifties.
Finding Us Page 18
