Give Me Redemption (Give Me Series Book 4)

by Paige P. Horne

  “So, what do you do for a living, Dalton?”

  “FBI agent.”

  “Really? That’s pretty badass.”

  I shrug. “It’s all right.”

  He smirks. “It’s all right,” he mocks me. And I’m not sure how to take this conversation. My heart is on the edge of a cliff, wondering if it should jump and risk the fall or stay put and not get hurt.

  Chris hands him his beer. Jace takes a sip and runs his tongue over his top lip. A hundred other girls could get this guy’s attention. How come I’m the one? How come after I’ve hurt him the most, he wants to be here with me?

  He watches me as I watch him. He seems way calmer than I am.

  Like he’s already decided how this is going to go.

  He’s here.

  That’s a good sign, right?

  After everything I’ve done, he’s here.

  Does his family know? Or is this a secret? I look between his eyes, sapphire blues filled with a dare.

  Take a chance on me.

  Take a chance on us.

  I risk the fall.

  “So, what’s your story?” I ask him.

  He clears his throat. “Rough childhood, was adopted at eight, grew up on a horse ranch, joined the Army when I was eighteen, had a few people close to me die, did something stupid to get booted out, and then I fell in love.” His backwards snapback makes him look so young and sexy, and the fact he said he fell in love makes my heart full to the rim with hope.

  “You?” he asks, scanning his eyes over me.

  I take in a deep breath before looking down at the napkin my beer is on. Condensation slides down the glass, puddling around the bottom. I reach my hand over and run my finger up the brown bottle. “How much time you got?” I ask, darting my eyes over to him.

  “I got all night.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Harlow

  The sun has faded, causing the sky to look like a ripe peach. Orange-red and beautiful. Jace and I sit out on the balcony of his apartment. He smokes a cigarette, and I sit with my ankles crossed on the opposite chair.

  “You haven’t heard anything from him since?” he asks, looking over the email I got a while back from that psychopath who took Chloe.

  “No,” I confirm. “He’s disappeared all over again. It’s the most frustrating thing. We’ll get a glimpse of him, and then he’ll vanish. But those pictures of Chloe confirm she’s alive.” I lean my head back and look up at the sky.

  She’s alive.

  “Harlow,” he says.

  I turn to look at him. It’s odd hearing my name slip from his lips. He’s called me Dalton this whole time, except when we first met. I’ll always, always hate the name Michelle.

  “What happens when you find him?” he asks.

  “I’m going to kill him.” I almost shock myself when I say those words out loud because I’ve never said them before. I’ve thought them plenty of times. God, how many times have they passed through my mind? The dark places I’ve gone when thinking about killing that man.

  How would I do it? Would I wrap a fishing line around his throat and pull it slowly until it breaks skin and makes him bleed out? Would I puncture an artery and watch as blood pours from his worthless body?

  “What then?” he says, grabbing my attention, pulling me from the shadows.

  I lift a brow and cast my eyes to the street below us. “I’ve been searching for this man since I was a girl. The night Chloe was taken, I dove into the details. I played out how he grabbed her from the bed, how he got her out of the window without my parents hearing. He had to have drugged her first.

  “Something quick. An injection of some kind because my sister would have fought. I worked it all out in my head. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I focused on finding her. I showed up at the police station daily asking if they had any leads.

  “At first, they turned me away, but eventually they saw I wasn’t letting this go. I became a regular there, so much so that they let me occupy an unused office just so I could be close to the action. Close enough, so if they had anything, I would be there.

  “I got to know the people working on her case. I would come home from school and do my homework there.

  “I would sleep better there, because somehow I felt closer to her. Like I was actually doing something, even though deep down inside I knew I wasn’t.

  “I begged my parents to let me get my GED, so I could start college earlier. They eventually gave in when I wouldn’t stop asking. Truthfully, I would have done it behind their backs if they wouldn’t have finally said yes.” I run a hand over my face, thinking back over those years. I was a messed-up kid. I’m still messed up.

  But I was so focused. So fucking determined. I don’t look over at Jace, because I know how all of this sounds.

  I sound crazy, obsessed. Chloe’s case is my weakness. It’s my Achilles’ heel.

  I can’t leave this earth without finding her.

  “As soon as I obtained my GED, I started college, and I became what I am today. Finally, I could really help.

  “I followed leads all over the country. I didn’t sleep. I learned that I could live off quick meals and peanut butter. I slept in my car when I thought maybe he was near. Relationships were out of the question because they took up too much time. This is how I’ve lived my life.” I look over at Jace who’s watching me with a serious expression. There’s worry there, concern that I’ve seen from everyone that cares about me.

  “You ask after I find him, what then?” I cast my eyes back to the sky, watching the moon, wondering if Chloe is seeing it. Thinking back on the night she was taken and how my life changed because of it.

  “Then I’ll finally be able to breathe.”

  Usually we’re not the cause of our brokenness. Someone or something makes us this way. It’s that free will that God blessed us with.

  “You choose. I’ll watch,” He says.

  And then the devil steps in.

  “Make this choice,” he whispers.

  People want to be good. We’re not born bad. Everyone is clean when they breathe their first breath, but the world and it’s free will causes havoc, and the devil wins more than he should.

  Jace take a drag from his smoke and sits up, resting his forearms on his knees as he cast his eyes down. He’s probably rethinking our whole situation.

  I don’t blame him.

  Part of me worries that I can’t give him all of me. Honestly, I don’t even own that.

  “Did you even want to work on the case with Red?” he asks.

  “No. I thought it was a waste of my fucking time.”

  He nods, like he thought so.

  “My boss, Davy, insisted on it. He wanted me off of Chloe’s case for a while, so he let Monroe take over. He’s the guy you saw earlier.”

  Jace looks over at me, his mind clearly spinning. We’ve been talking about me all night.

  I get it.

  I know he feels like he didn’t know me. He knows me now, though.

  “I never wanted to hurt you. I went to Davy and begged him to let me off of that case. But he thought it would be good for me. Get my mind off of missing children. He had no idea that I was falling for you.” I swallow, feeling regretful. “Lying to you… it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  “You were so good at it, though,” he says, his voice laced with underlying bitterness and that hurts.

  I bite my inner cheek as he leans back in his chair.

  “I deserve that,” I say. I feel the wall Jace has up. He’s guarded around me. I was hoping this would be easier. He doesn’t trust me.

  Without trust, what do we have?

  I slowly exhale the pain swimming in my chest. Our relationship is distorted. It’s never been black and white with us, but different shades of gray. One thing is clear, though. I’m the bad guy always. I hurt Jace. I lied to him.

  That’s something that I’m sure he’ll never forget.

  For some reason, my
mind goes back to the courthouse and how high he was. “Do you do drugs often?” I ask. His eyes jump to mine. “At the courthouse. You were high.”

  He looks away from me, hitting his smoke again before twirling the filter between his fingers.

  “Seems to help me forget shit sometimes. Don’t worry. I’m not an addict or anything.”

  “Can I tell you how I feel about it, or are we there yet?” I don’t want to cross the line with him. I’m shocked that I’m even here right now, when only a short time ago we were sitting in the courthouse waiting to hear if his brother was going to prison because of me.

  Jace could have never reached out to me again, and I wouldn’t have been surprised one bit. It’s a rocky road we’re on, but I feel like I need to be myself as much as possible.

  “Go on,” he says. “Right now, it doesn’t really matter what you think, though.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No. You have zero right to tell me how to live my life.”

  “That’s fair.” I exhale. “I don’t care for it. You’re better than what you make people think of you.”

  “What does that mean?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

  “It means you believe people already think you’re this fuck-up. This guy who parties too hard and goes too far, but you’re not a fuck-up and you don’t have to prove them right. You can be better. You are better.”

  “Yeah.” He scoffs. “What do you know?” he says quietly.

  I wince and run a hand over my throat. When he sat at the bar with me, I thought that was his way of saying he was going to try to get past this. But his actions are proving different. I know my fuck-up was epic. I know what I did to him will leave a scar, but I’m not the type of woman to sit around on thin ice until it breaks.

  I said I’d take the fall. I’d risk the hurt to try to be with him, but I’m not sure. Maybe he needs some time. I place my hands on the edge of my seat and drop my feet on the cement.

  “I need to head home.”

  “Wait, why are you leaving?” he asks, standing up, looking panicked.

  God, I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to this man.

  He’s torn. He wants to forgive me, but at the same time, I don’t think he does.

  I stand up, too, running a hand over my blouse.

  “Honestly, Jace, I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

  He goes to say something, but I put my fingers over his lips. “And that’s okay. I understand.” My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach, hanging its head in defeat. “I don’t know why you came to Hudson’s. I never expected you to, but you did, and you have no idea how happy that made me, but I have no expectations here.

  “I’m not going anywhere. When you think you’re ready to move forward, if you decide that’s what you want, I’ll be waiting.”

  I drop my hand and lean up to kiss him on the cheek. He doesn’t move, and I walk away, praying he chooses us.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Harlow

  “And that’s the way you left it?” Monroe asks me as we sit in the car. It’s early, and we’ve got coffee for the office and biscuits. It’s been two days since I walked out of Jace’s place. Two days of worrying and constantly looking at my phone for him to call. I told him I’d give him time, so that’s what I’m doing, but damn, if it’s not driving me mad.

  “Yeah. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Nothing,” he says. “The ball is in his court. He can decide he wants you, or he can decide to move on. Just sucks you have to wait for him to figure this out.”

  I shrug. “Like I would be doing anything else anyway. I don’t care for anyone else. I only want him.”

  Monroe nods. “You told Davy any of this yet?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Think he should know? I mean, the man cares about you.”

  “It’s his fault I’m in this mess.”

  Monroe laughs. “True.”

  We pull into the parking garage at the Bureau and head inside. “Good morning, Marco,” I say to the janitor as he shines the floors.

  “Harlow, I hope you’re having a good morning.”

  “I am, thank you. Here, I got you a coffee.”

  “Why, thank you,” he says with a smile. I give him a wink as we head into the elevator.

  “Good man,” Monroe says.

  “The best,” I reply.

  We take our seats, telling everyone to come get the coffee and food if they want it. It doesn’t take long for it to vanish. I sip on mine and fire my computer up as Davy walks out of his office.

  “Dalton,” he yells.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Get in here,” he says.

  I look over at Monroe who shrugs. Rolling my chair out, I head toward Davy’s office, wondering what he wants to talk to me about. God, I hope it’s not some stupid case I don’t care about again. I don’t think I can handle that shit.

  “Shut the door,” he says. I click it shut behind me as he looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

  “How’s everything?”

  “Fine.”

  He sighs. “Your mother doesn’t seem to think so. She says you’ve been distant.”

  “Good God,” I reply with an eye roll. “I missed Sunday dinner again. She’s freaking out over nothing.”

  “Sit,” he says, pointing at the chair across from him. I exhale but do as he asks.

  “Talk to me. I know the case was rough on you. I’m not sure why, but you had a hard time with this one and then the guy gets free anyway.”

  I shrug, praying he isn’t wanting to look farther into that. “I’m cool with it. I did my part; the judge didn’t do his. It is what it is.”

  He nods. “Yeah. It was a payoff if you ask me.”

  I don’t say anything. “How’s therapy?”

  I avert my eyes.

  “I take it you haven’t been going then?” he asks, removing his glasses.

  “It’s a waste of money. She tells me shit that I already know about myself.”

  “Well, your mom...”

  I hold up my hand. “Davy, I am a grown-ass woman. If I don’t want to go to therapy, then I don’t want to go.”

  “Fine, but you’re telling her. I’ve known you and your family for too many years. This is getting ridiculous being caught up in your personal matters.”

  “You could just ignore her phone calls,” I suggest.

  “Now how do you think that would go down? She’d be up here looking for you.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re right. They’ve been overprotective since the day Chloe was taken.”

  He looks up at me. I don’t usually talk about Chloe freely like that. It’s this huge thing in my life that I keep to myself. The details of how life was growing up, the struggle I had with my parents.

  “Who will be there?” she asks.

  “Mandy’s parents. It’s just for one evening, Mom, and then I’ll be right back.”

  She gives me a sideways glance. “What if you have to go to the bathroom? Will you ask them to go with you?”

  “No, Mom. I’m plenty old enough to go by myself. That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous. Kids are getting snatched up every day, every minute. What would I do if something happened to you, too?”

  “You can’t keep me in this house forever,” I say. “Just because it happened to her doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to me.”

  “I can’t risk that chance. You’re not going.”

  “Mom, seriously? It’s a festival.”

  “You’re not going, and that’s final!” she says, throwing a pot into the sink before storming out of the kitchen.

  That was the last time I asked to do anything. I was sixteen. Chloe had been gone for two years. It wasn’t easy growing up in that household. Dad kept to himself a lot, and Mom watched me like a hawk.

  But talking about it freely with Davy just now… it felt good.

  Maybe Monroe is right. M
aybe I need to tell Davy what I’ve been going through. I don’t really talk to my parents about my private life. They worry too much. Well, Mom does, and Dad spends his time trying to get her to chill out.

  “Davy, I lied.” He lifts a brow. “Everything isn’t fine.”

  “What’s wrong?” He sits up.

  I sigh, my heart this heavy muscle in my chest reminding me daily that Jace hasn’t chosen us and that he probably won’t.

  My eyes look down at the wooden desk, papers scattered and a cup of coffee steaming.

  “I’ve fallen in love, and it’s killing me.”

  “What?” he asks, looking surprised. “You? Harlow Dalton has fallen in love? Who is this boy?”

  I wince. “Jace Grant.”

  His eyes grow wide as he exhales and leans back in his chair. He links his fingers across his belly and shakes his head. “Well, shit. Now it all makes sense.”

  ______________

  I shut the door to my apartment and lean back against it as Slim runs in from the kitchen. He purrs around my leg and I reach down and scoop him up.

  “Miss me?” I ask. “Or are you just hungry?” Knowing it’s the latter, I put him down and walk into the kitchen to fix his food. I told Davy everything, from the moment Jace and I spoke our first words to each other to our conversation a few days ago.

  Davy wishes I would have told him sooner.

  I’m not sure if that would have mattered. I was already in too deep by the time I knew I loved Jace.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I slide it out, disappointed when it’s my mom.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Harlow. How was your day?”

  “Fine,” I reply, putting the food down for Slim. I remove my gun and badge, placing them on the counter as I kick my shoes off by the couch. “How was yours?”

  “Oh, good. I went and bought some fresh flowers for the house today. Your dad took a nap on the couch, and I cleaned the kitchen cabinets.”

  “Sounds great, Mom,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster when a knock sounds on my door.