I forced myself to fold my arms over my chest defiantly, and stay standing, glaring back at the man who had broken my heart. God, I was certain I couldn't do this. It was tearing me apart.
"Kate," he said, and oh damn! His voice cracked on my name.
I couldn't do this. I started shaking my head back and forth.
"Baby," he said, getting to his feet and crossing the space to stand before me. "Shhh," he added, making me realise I'd started to whimper aloud.
He didn't touch me, just hovered, that uncertain look carved into his face. I sucked in a deep breath and told myself to harden up. Taking a few much needed steps away. Space. I needed space to deal with this.
"Why are you here?" I asked, once I'd placed half the room between us.
He looked blank for a second, adrift, but he was standing right there. I'd never seen Jason Cain this way before. A shadow of the man he'd once been. A haunted, vague representation of the omnipresent person he'd always appeared to be.
OK. So, something was definitely off. I studied him for a brief moment, waiting to see if his usual take-no-prisoners attitude fell back into place. It didn't. And the longer it took, the harder it was not to reach out to him. To offer comfort, to reassure.
But, I couldn't. I wouldn't.
"What's going on, Jason?" I asked, keeping my voice level, not soft.
He shook his head, sucked in a deep breath, and then ran his palm over his face. In that same move he'd made at Dom and Gen's tonight. A move I'd never seen Captain Jason Cain effect.
I was beginning to feel entirely too uncomfortable, Jason's out of character behaviour throwing me for a loop.
"I..." he started, then looked around the room for inspiration. "I came to tell you..." He stopped mid-sentence again. Sucked in another breath, while my heart silently folded. "I owe you an explanation," he finally managed to get out.
Yes, he did. But I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it, even with him acting so bizarrely. Hadn't my heart taken enough of a battering for one lifetime? Must it take even more?
"I don't know, Jason," I said, my voice softening without my permission. "Two weeks," was all I could manage to say.
His hand came up and rubbed across his chest, above his heart. I don't think he knew he was doing it. And oh, dear God. No. This Jason would break me, if I let him.
"You should go," I whispered.
"You won't hear me out?" he asked, sounding a little more like the Jason I knew. His stunned reaction making his voice strengthen in surprise.
"I can't do this," I said under my breath, then headed toward the front door. I opened it, and waited for him to move.
For a surreal suspended moment in time I watched him assess the situation, take in my rigid stance by the open door, the obvious message I was relaying. And I thought he'd cave. I thought he'd do what I asked and leave. And a part of me, I hadn't even realise existed, baulked at that idea.
I was angry with him. Hurt by what he had done. But I did not want to see Jason Cain leave with his tail between his legs. That was not the Jason I knew.
He walked slowly towards me, his eyes locked on mine. My heart thundered, my fists clenched, and I willed my eyes not well with threatening tears.
Where are you, Jason? Come back.
What the hell had happened to make this man lose so much of himself in just two short weeks?
And I knew, right then, that if he stopped, that if he showed me even a hint of the old Jason, I would listen. Because he was battling something deep inside himself right now, and if he had the courage to stand against it, to fight for what he used to be, then the least I could do was hear him out.
But he made it to the door without a word. He even took a step outside. My heart fell, my shoulders sagged, and I realised it was over. He'd fucked up, I'd been hurt too much to allow him any purchase back in. This was it.
And I didn't want it to be, even though it hurt still. Even though I was petrified of being hurt more. I did not want this to be the end.
This was not how Jason and I parted.
Was it?
I lifted my eyes to his, as he'd stopped on my doorstep and turned around. That pull I'd always felt was still there. That desire to lean closer, to inhale more deeply, to reach out and touch. It hadn't been drowned in amongst the pain, it was still as strong as ever.
Oh, damn.
"I was in the Army for fifteen years," he said from out of nowhere. "Ten of those in the SAS. Eight as Captain of my squad." He stopped talking to take a breath, his eyes staring down the hallway behind me, faraway. Then, "It was a big part of my life."
I wasn't sure what to be relieved about the most. The fact that he hadn't given up, or the fact that he was opening up about his time in the military. A time I knew had left an indelible mark.
I'd known this. Not the details, mind you, but the depth of connection Jason had to the New Zealand Army. I'd also known how hard it was for him to be dismissed. All because he was defending his sister against a gun-toting lunatic ex. But he'd fired a weapon, whilst not on orders from his superiors, and killed a civilian. Warranted or not, the Army had let him go.
Jason has had difficulty accepting this, I think. It's only a guess, evidenced by his behaviour since then. And now he didn't even work for Nick in private security. Now he had no job. No anchor to keep him safe.
My throat constricted with the overriding empathy I felt at those thoughts.
"It's not an excuse," he continued. "I just thought you should know that." I blinked at him, his eyes were shadowed, much like his face was now. Much like, I was beginning to realise, his heart was, too.
He was suffering and despite what he'd done, all I wanted to do was ease his pain.
When I didn't urge him to leave, but just stood there, openly watching him, waiting for more, he went on.
"I know you've cottoned on to what sort of man I am, Kate," he said, leaning forward to rest his hands on either side of the door frame, by my head. "You do, don't you?" he queried, as if he doubted his previous statement.
"You're a dominant," I said softly, but surprisingly without any embarrassment. It was who Jason was and I'd obviously accepted it.
He nodded, a look of relief flashing across his face.
"I'm not a sadist. I'm not into whips and paddles, hot wax or nipple clamps. It's not like that. I don't derive pleasure out of someone's pain. I just... I just need the control. I need to be in control." He ducked his head, breathing deeply, then whispered in a voice that cracked a fissure right through my heart, "It's intensified since I left the Army." The admission cost him something. He didn't raise his head again after that.
I stood there, unable to move for the moment. Not necessarily stunned, because I wasn't. I'd almost expected this. But a part of me ached for Jason. For what he must have seen and done as an elite soldier in the special forces. Of the person he must have become because of it. And now, the person he had be to exist without it.
He was lost. In more ways than I had realised.
I closed my eyes slowly at that knowledge. The knowledge that explained so very much. I still felt anger at him for walking away from me without a backward glance. I still felt fear that even letting him in this far would cause me more pain. But I think, maybe, there was a burgeoning sensation of understanding, or at least, acknowledgement that Jason was a messed up man, and he regretted what had happened as much as me. That it may have been a mistake, brought on by whatever made Jason who he now was.
I opened my eyes and looked across the small space between us. Jason's head had come up enough for him to view me through his lashes. Pain etched a picture in his eyes, across his firm jaw, through his rigid stance. I held his gaze and didn't turn away from him.
"I want to tell you what I've seen." He spoke slowly, as though he was carefully choosing each word. "What it's done to me. But..." he sucked in a deep breath, ran that hand over his face again, then abruptly pulled back from his position resting on the door frame. "It doesn't excuse my
behaviour with you," he admitted, eyes alight with turmoil and, I think, fear. It wasn't what he was originally going to say, I could tell by his tone. It wasn't a deflection as such, I think it was more to do with the fact that he simply wasn't ready to talk about his experiences yet.
I hoped one day he would be ready. And then I wondered if I was.
Although my chest hurt and my eyes burned with unshed tears, all on his behalf, I was not going to easily forget the past fortnight. It had been my hell on earth. And all because of him. I wanted to be the better person, and let him off the hook with compassion and understanding. But there was a part of me that still smarted. God, that was still broken, by what he had done.
"Two weeks, Jason," I semi-repeated, voice soft. Even if I felt compelled to address this with him, I still had no real desire to hurt him with my words either. It was such a conflicting place to be. Angry at being hurt so badly. Heartbroken not only for me, but now, more so for him. And finally, I simply missed him and wanted to believe he missed me.
So short a time he was entwined in my heart and life. And now I felt like that was a part of me I'd never have back again.
"I'm sorry, Kate," he said slowly, with meaning, making eye contact throughout each word. "I'm so sorry," he added, shifting forward on the stoop until I could feel his breath wash across my lips. "I never meant to hurt you," he continued, chest rising and falling too rapidly. Matching mine.
I couldn't move. His apology was heartfelt, I could tell. But the defeat and broken look I'd seen in his face, nearly brought me to my knees. For a moment I battled with these new emotions, as they warred with those I'd felt for the past two weeks. How did you get over that? How did I move on from here? Do I move on with him?
"Jason," I said, sorrow coating every syllable of his name. He closed his eyes and dipped his head. "You hurt me, Jason," I whispered. "You broke me," I managed to get out, but the words were almost unintelligible.
He must have heard them, because a hitched sound escaped his lips. He leaned forward slowly, hesitantly, breathing erratically... then finally touched me, by nestling his face into the curve of my neck.
Tortured bliss. Oh, dear God, he was close to crumbling apart, and I was right there with him.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I made a mistake. A fucked in the head mistake. But even as I made it, I knew it was wrong." He was rambling now, desperate to get the confession out. His lips feathering against my sensitive skin, as he hurriedly murmured each word. "I knew it wasn't what I wanted to do," he continued. The only part of his body touching mine was his mouth and breath. Oh, I longed for more. And I also wanted the strength to turn away. He'd hurt me, but then he'd been hurting too. "But I was confused and uncertain," he went on, "and Nick saw through it all and twisted my thoughts further."
What? Nick? My brother? What on earth did he have to do with this?
I didn't get a chance to voice those stunningly important words, because Jason was on a roll of confession here and he wasn't even stopping to suck in breaths.
"But it's not just that, Kate. I let him. Fuck, baby, I let him pull me away from you. I don't deserve you, Kate. You're too good for me and even now I don't know if you can handle the demands I'll want to make. But I can't stop it. I want you so badly. I want every inch of you. I want your body. I want your heart. Fuck, baby, I want your very soul."
And with that my heart shattered, and through some miracle started to mend again. How could I not be affected by that raw and honest admission? How could I turn away now? His whole body was heaving with barely controlled emotions, his lips were desperately brushing soothing kisses against the skin on my neck. I felt his pain, as though it was mine. I felt his desperation, as though it was mine. I felt his regret, as though, it too, was mine. I felt it all, and it humbled me, scared me, and gave me hope.
But, Nick? I couldn't get my head around it, even as a part of me replayed all of Nick's words at the barbecue in my mind.
"He's the wrong man for you. Katie, I know more than you do. You're just going to have to trust me. Stay away from him. OK?"
Nick knew what Jason had suffered. Nick knew how affected Jason was by his time in the Army. Nick knew everything that Jason couldn't yet voice to me. And he'd determined that I couldn't handle someone as broken as Jason Cain. Nick, my brother, had decided to end our burgeoning relationship before it had a real chance of starting. He interfered. He fucked not only with me, but with Jason.
I was immobile with rage. A solid form of disbelieving mass standing statue still in the warm embrace of a pleading man. A man who, in such a short amount of time, meant everything to me.
Jason finally realised I wasn't melting under his touch, that I wasn't encouraging him further. That I hadn't offered him forgiveness. He pulled back, until there was once again space between us, enough for the cool night air to start to chill me. And he looked crushed.
Broken.
Without conscious thought I lifted the fingers of one of my hands to his face. Caressed one digit slowly down his cheek, then cupped his jaw, locking his gaze on my own.
For a moment neither of us said anything, just stared at the other, waiting for something... momentous to occur. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a precipice, staring across a darkened abyss to the light on the other side. I could choose to go back, to avoid the chance of falling over the side and sinking into the bleak, black chasm. Or I could take a gamble on the light I could clearly see across the other side, in this man's eyes. Take the risk, breach the divide, and walk in sunshine.
I'd taken a risk once, and fallen off the edge into the abyss.
I stared at him, seeing the man I'd fallen for before I fell, and the broken man that had been left afterwards. I wanted to reach for that sunshine on the other side of the abyss, and it was a lovely thought, but reality is not made up of fantastical analogies. Besides, there was more to it than just forgiveness. Jason was a tortured man, moulded from his experiences. Encounters that I could probably never imagine in my worst nightmares. Did I truly think I could help him? Did I truly believe I could be the woman he needed me to be, in order for him to live life?
I stared into those beautiful, yet haunting, chocolate brown eyes, and saw my own fear and doubts reflected there. Neither of us were one hundred percent certain about this. But the longing that intertwined and overrode the apprehension matched my own. He wanted me and I realised, I still wanted him.
I searched his eyes for anything else, anything that would indicate he could hurt me again like he did two weeks ago. Maybe there was something wrong with me to even be contemplating this after what he'd done. But he was messed up, and I couldn't let go. Should I allow my pride and fear to rule my heart? Or should I let my heart guide my way? I was scared of being hurt again, but I was more fearful of not living life, of missing a chance I may never get again. Of letting him walk away. I am what I am, and what I am is in love with this broken man.
The longer I looked, the less fear and uncertainty I saw in his eyes, on his face. And the more desire and determination took their place. A small smile spread my lips. A little of the old Jason Cain I'd come to love seeping back in. There was hope. And if there was hope...
Still, I can be stubborn.
"If you ever hurt me like that again, Jason, I will walk away," I said, voice steady, but low, my intention to do as I said in every syllable that left my lips.
"Kate," he whispered, and so much was conveyed in that one word from his lips. So much relief and joy and sorrow at what had transpired. And hope for what could now come.
"What now?" I asked, because despite - well at least I think - letting him back in, I didn't know what the next step was. This had been so monumental, such an enormous hurdle to overcome. I wasn't yet one hundred percent recovered. In all honesty, I hadn't yet fully forgiven him.
Oh, I understood my brother's duplicity in what had transpired. I understood Jason's messed up psyche had allowed Nick to steer him down that path. But it had hurt, damn it! You don
't just get over something like that, simply because you understand and the person has apologised.
This would take time, and right now, I really didn't know what happens next.
"We take this one day at a time," Jason said softly, receiving a relieved nod of my head from me. "But if you think I'm going home to my flat tonight and leaving you alone to mull this over and change your mind, then think again."
And Captain Jason Cain was back.
Thank God.
I offered a smile, it might have reached my eyes, I'm not sure. Then Jason slipped his hand into mine, held my gaze for a suspended moment, and walked past me back into the house. The front door clicked shut behind us, he paused to lock it, then the lights in the lounge were extinguished, and he guided me down the hall.
His touch was sure, but gently, when he undressed me. I was momentarily surprised he helped me slip my nightdress on when he was done. But the relief was also apparent. He stripped down to his boxers, then with eyes still holding mine captive, helped me slide under the covers of the bed.
The bedside lamp was switched off, as he pulled me into the circle of his arms and laid a soft kiss in amongst my hair.
He knew I was still in pain, and he didn't push me. He simply held me, offering the odd kiss to my temple, wrapping me up in his large, safe arms, and waiting for me to fall asleep.
I wasn't sure what was next, but for now I'd take this, willingly.
Jason had hurt me, but there'd been a reason why. A messed up, screwed up, brother interfering reason why. But a reason why nonetheless.
And as much as I'd been hurt, so had Jason. But he'd fought for me, against Nick. Against my fears and rejection. Jason had fought to get back to me.
God, I hoped I could let him back in. I really hoped that I could be everything he needed me to be. Because I was in love with this broken man, and I knew loving him would never be easy.
As I finally drifted off to restless sleep, I heard him murmur, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
Sweet Seduction Surrender (Sweet Seduction, Book 4) Page 16
