by Tijan
“That’s what you have when there’s no hope… tragedy.” Jenny’s comment doesn’t go unheard and I let the statement sit before speaking out loud.
Not really to her, more to myself.
“Hope is the opposite of tragedy. It’s a glimmer of light in utter darkness. It isn’t a long way of saying goodbye. It’s knowing you never have to say it, because whoever’s gone, is still with you. Always. That’s what hope is.”
“They really are. They’re always with us,” she remarks.
“That’s what makes it hard to say goodbye.”
“You don’t have to say goodbye,” she says softly, as if she’s considered this a million times over.
“Then how can you ever get over it?” I ask her genuinely, thoughts of her disappearance, of Mom being laid to rest playing in my mind. “How do you get over the loneliness and the way you miss them all the time?”
“Get over it?” she asks with near shock – as if she’s never thought of it that way - and I nod without conscious reason.
“How?”
“You can never get over it. Whether you say goodbye or not. Loss isn’t something you get over.” My sister isn’t indignant, or hurt. She’s simply matter of fact and the truth of it, I’ve never dared to consider. She looks me dead in the eyes and asks with nothing but compassion, “So why say goodbye? Why do it, when they’re still here and you’ll never get over it? Never.”
Jase
“I just need to know…” Bethany’s voice is desperate, a sound I’m not used to hearing from her unless she’s under me. She hasn’t laid down since I told her it’s time to go to bed. I don’t know how long it’s been since she’s slept. Instead, she sits wrapped in the covers, staring at the door.
“She’s all right.” My words intertwine with the sound of the comforter rustling as I lean closer to her and wrap my arm around her waist. I pull her closer to me, making her lean slightly so I can kiss her hair, but I don’t move her. She’ll move when she’s ready. I can wait for that.
I’ll wait for her.
“Tell me you’ll protect her.” She swallows hard after blurting out the words. Her eyes are wide and glossy. “Please. I’ll do anything.” As she speaks her last word cracks and the only thing I can hear is her thumping heart, running like mad in her chest.
“Of course I will. She’s family now.”
“Family?” she questions me as if it’s a foreign word.
“Bricks, cailín tine. I was serious when I said it, and serious about marrying you… even if you aren’t ready.”
“You really are bringing bricks and not just to fence me in, huh?” I have to laugh at her playful response. More than that, I love that she smiles. Even if it’s gentle and small, it’s there.
It falls quickly, though, as her gaze moves behind me to the door.
With one arm resting over her midsection and her other hand cradling her elbow, Jenny looks lost and uncertain as she clears her throat.
“Are you okay?” Bethany’s quick to question and rise from the bed.
“Sorry,” she answers and almost turns to leave, but Bethany stops her. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
I stay where I am. Observing and waiting. Waiting for Bethany to tell me what’s needed. Whatever it is, I’ll be ready.
“I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You weren’t,” Bethany assures her. I have forever with Bethany, so forever can wait a moment.
“Can… can we talk?” Jenny asks Bethany, although she looks hesitantly at me.
“Of course.” If Bethany is aware of Jenny’s objection toward me listening, she doesn’t show it. Instead she drags the bench at the end of the bed closer to the chair by the dresser and pats it, welcoming her to sit.
“If you want me to go,” I speak up, “I can grab you something to eat while you two talk?”
Jenny’s gaze flicks between the two of us before she shakes her head. “You’ve already given me dinner, and a place to sleep… and clothes.” She goes on and the baggy long-sleeve shirt pools around her thin wrist. “I don’t need anything else.”
As I stand to go the bathroom and busy myself so they have some semblance of privacy, Jenny adds, “Thank you.” A tight smile and a nod is given to Jenny, but Bethany reaches for my hand and squeezes it before I can walk away.
I nearly think she wants me to stay, but she releases me with a thank you.
My hand is still warm from her touch when I turn on the faucet. Even over the sound of the water splashing in the sink, I can hear Jenny asks her questions about me.
Does she trust me?
What is she doing with me?
And finally, does she love me?
All of which are answered with many words, but the first of them each time is yes.
“You led him to me,” Bethany informs her sister and I remember the first time I saw her. Across the bar, my fiery girl, picking a fight with whoever she could because she was hurting and needed help. Fighting is all either of us knew.
I scrub my face, feeling the roughness along my jaw and listen intently even though I hadn’t planned on eavesdropping.
“The only clues you gave me before you left were The Red Room and the Cross brothers. So I went there, searching for you.”
Opening the cabinet to get my razor and shaving cream, I grab the bottle of pills and stare at them until they fall from my hand into the bottom of the trashcan beneath the sink. The inhale I take is deep and cathartic, but it doesn’t stop the twisted hurt that will always come when I think about that time in my life. I don’t need the constant reminder though.
Gripping my razor, I use the back of my hand to close the cabinet door. Jenny’s reflection is clear in the mirror. A disturbed look plays on her face when she tells Bethany, “Marcus told me to. He said to make sure you heard me say it.”
Staring down at the rippling water, I listen to her explain that she’s sorry. She’s sorry for everything.
I don’t shave. I don’t move, other than bracing one hand on each side of the sink and staring down, wondering what Marcus planned, how he thought ahead and what he thought would happen.
It’s not until Jenny says good night and I feel Bethany’s hand on my back that I bring myself to look at Bethany in the mirror.
“You okay?” she whispers against my back and I almost tell her that I’m fine. Instead I answer, “I hate hearing his name.”
“Marcus?” she asks and I nod.
“Seth will find him,” she answers me and plants a small kiss on my back through my white t-shirt when I turn off the faucet.
She watches me as I dry my face and thanks me for giving her sister space.
The smile on my lips falters until she reaches out, grabbing my hand and kissing it.
“Isn’t that what a man is supposed to do?” I toy with her. “Kneel and kiss the back of a lady’s hand.”
A glimmer of surprise filters in her eyes as she says, “I thought it’s what ladies did to the knights? I thought they kissed the back of their hands when they saved them.”
Even though I’m still, she moves, pushing herself between me and the sink and reaching up to kiss me. It’s always the same with her. The first is quick and teasing and then she gives me what I need, deep and slow. As I groan into her mouth, she lets out a soft sigh of affection and balls my shirt in her fist, bringing me closer to her.
“So needy,” I tell her, my voice low and playful before tugging her bottom lip between my teeth and then letting her go.
I move my hands from her hips to her ass and pick her up, loving the gasp and then the squeal she gives me when I toss her on our bed.
The air heats as I kick off my pants and watch her right herself on the bed, her gaze wandering down my body until I climb on the bed to join her.
With both of her hands in my hair and mine bracing me on the bed as I lean over her, forcing her to lie down, she kisses me with soft, quick kisses all over my lips. I smile as she does it, short pecks moving in a clockwise
motion.
I lift my head to look down at her, to joke about what she’s done. I stop myself though; there’s nothing but seriousness in her gaze.
“Thank you for saving me, Jase.”
“You saved me too, you know,” I tell her as I pull my shirt off, knowing damn well she has.
She stares at me for an awkward moment and then looks down with a huff. “I don’t know what to say.”
Confusion takes over. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what would mean more right now. That I love you. Or that I don’t love you.”
The short huff of a laugh leaves me with relief. Thank fuck.
“Let’s stick with I love you from now on.”
“Then I love you, Jase Cross. I love you with everything in me.”
Bethany
Good things don’t come often. Not for me. Not for most people. I’m aware of that. I get it. Life isn’t meant to be a garden of roses.
I’m used to the thorns. I would even say I like them. They’re predictable, when nothing else is.
The sound of the printer in Jase’s office that isn’t an office makes me jump. It’s louder than I anticipated, and I anxiously look to the doorway.
He should be here soon.
Jenny’s tucked away in her room. Some days are better than others, but overall she’s better. She’s better than she has been in a very long time. If only she could remember what happened over the past few months, I think she’d be like my old sister again. Or at least who that girl was supposed to be.
Before the paper can fall to the tray, I catch it and lift it up to look at the certificate. It’s so simple and not as expensive as I thought it would be.
It’s merely a sheet of paper with ink on it. But then again so are books, and they can be wielded like weapons. They can destroy people; they can give them hope too.
“There you are.” Jase’s deep voice greets me with a sensual need. I can already feel his warmth before he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his chest. The paper clings to my front as I keep it from his prying eyes.
“What are you hiding from me?” he questions.
“No hiding anything anymore. Isn’t that the deal?” I remind him, peeking around to not just see him, but to steal a quick kiss as well. I love it when he smirks at me.
With a lift of his chin he tells me, “Then show it.”
I do so willingly, listening to the paper crinkle and watching his dark eyes as he reads each line.
“Marriage certificate?” It’s a sin that he looks so handsome, even when he’s confused.
“It’s a certificate to get a marriage certificate. Like a gift card. I didn’t know you could get one of these. You have to be there for it to actually be done and all,” I explain to him. I thought this would be the best way to tell him that I want to marry him.
As he steps back, snagging the paper from me and then looking between it and me, nerves flow through every part of me.
“My answer is yes.” In my mind, when I decided I’d do this, I said it confidently, playfully even, but the way the words came out now was hurried and with an anxiousness to hear his response.
Which he still hasn’t given me.
“At least I answered you quickly,” I tell him and pretend like my hands aren’t trembling.
“You want to do this?” he asks me, his shoulders squared as he lowers the paper to the leather sofa and closes the space between us.
Reaching up to adjust the collar of his pressed white shirt, I tell him easily, as if he’s said yes, “I don’t want a big wedding.”
“Are you proposing to me?” he finally says with a grin and the playfulness and the charm are obvious. This is the man I love.
Nodding, I fight back the prick at the back of my eyes and tell him, “I am. Are you saying yes?”
“I already asked you, though. You don’t get to ask me now.” He walks circles around me, making me spin slowly.
“You aren’t exactly good at it, so I figured I should give it a shot.” I’m just as playful with him as he is me, nipping his bottom lip and then kissing him. He deepens it, stopping where he is and splaying his hands against my lower back and shoulder.
When he breaks the kiss, he stares down at me. “Why?” he asks me, toying with me and my emotions instead of just ending it quickly.
“You have no mercy,” I joke with him. “Are you not saying yes?” I can’t even voice the word no right now.
He only stares down at me, waiting for a response with a smug look on his face.
“When I’m sad, I want you to be there because then I feel less sad. When I’m happy, I want you there because I want you happy with me. I just want you there… and I want to be there for you. If you’ll let me.” Tears form but I blink them away.
“I’ll let you,” he whispers ruggedly as he lowers his lips to the dip in my throat, giving me a chance to breathe easy. And to breathe him in.
“That’s not how you say ‘yes,’ Jase. Or how you make a girl feel secure,” I tease him although my words are still a bit unsteady. He pulls back to look at me, both of his hands still on me as I add, “When she prints out a marriage certificate, you’re supposed to say yes.”
“What if I gave her something else instead?” he asks, reaching into his pocket. “What if it was a tit for tat and I asked her a question to answer her question.” My eyes turn watery as he gets down on his knee and pulls out a small black velvet box.
“I have something for you.”
I can barely speak. “Jase.”
“I love the way you say my name,” he tells me, holding the box in one hand and my left hand in his other.
“I realized when I asked you to marry me, I probably should have done it better. I thought you’d be more willing to say ‘yes’ if there was something in it for you. I didn’t think about a ring or feel like a ring would be enough.”
Tears are warm as they fall down my face and I sniffle before telling Jase, “You are enough, Jase. It baffles me how you don’t see that.” I have to sniffle again before I can tell him that I’ll remind him of it every day for as long as he lives if that’s what it takes.
“Will you marry me?” he finally asks, opening the box. I don’t have time to even look at what’s inside. I need to touch him more than look at his surprise. I need to hold him and for him to hold me.
“I love you, Jase.” I breathe against his shoulder, letting my tears fall to the thin white fabric.
“Say yes, first,” he answers in what should be a playful voice, but feels nervous.
“A million times yes. It’s always been yes.”
Sometimes you meet someone, although maybe meet isn’t quite the right word. You don’t even have to say hello for this to happen. You simply pass by them and everything in your world changes forever. Chills flow from where you imagine he’d kiss you in the crook of your neck, moving all the way down with only a single glance.
I know you know what I’m referring to. The moment when something inside of you ignites to life, recognizing the other half that’s been gone for far too long.
It burns hot, destroying any hope that it’s only a coincidence, and that life will go back to what it was. These moments are never forgotten.
That’s only with a single glance.
I can tell you what a single touch will do. It will consume you and everything you thought you knew.
I felt all of this with Jase Cross, with every flicker of the flames that roared inside of me. I knew he’d be my downfall, and I was determined to be his just the same.
He deserves as much. To have every brick in his guarded walls brought to the ground and be left to turn into something more. I want nothing between us. Nothing but us. Even if that means this world will collapse around us and become a chaos I never imagined.
So long as I’m with him, so long as his touch is within reach, I would give everything else up.
That’s the part that scared me in that first moment.
Somewhere deep inside of me I knew I would be his.
And I’ll do it again and again. In this life and the next.
Jase
You’re welcome for your gift.
It was mine to give all along.
Marcus’s handwriting stares back at me until I crumple the small parchment into my hand.
He’s had a hand in the details, but he’s slipping. More of his intention is showing. It’s contradictory and changes on a whim, but he’s falling. I can feel it.
One small token won’t save him from the consequences of his actions. Our enemies will fall one by one, as they should. Their names will be carved in stone long before I allow anyone I love to meet the same fate.
He’s the one who chose to be our enemy. A gift won’t change that.
Balling up the note, I think back on everything that’s happened. Not just to me, but also to my brothers and to Sebastian. It all comes down to the simple fact that we found irresistible attractions. And all the while, Marcus knew. He used them against us. Each and every one of us.
Sometimes when people are in pain they push love away. Tossing the paper into the metal trashcan outside the old brick building, I think of Sebastian and how much he tried to resist.
Pain makes people go to extremes they know are wrong. Carter is proof of that. Sometimes all life will give you is only a tragedy, but if you have someone to love, someone to hold on to, like Daniel and Addison had each other, then life will go on.
We are only men. Not invincible heroes.
And Marcus is just the same.
He’s in pain like all of us. In fear like we’ve all been in. The answer to finding him, to bringing him to his knees lies in the one thing we’ve given into that he hasn’t.
The girl Officer Walsh can’t get over. The girl who ties him and Marcus together…
