“I’m glad he’s dead because it saves me the job.” I shake my head, feeling so helpless. “How do we help her? Tell me what to do?” I plead.
“She needs time to heal, and you need to be gentle with her. Let her direct the course of your relationship. She has agreed to speak to Mom and Sylvia,” Abby adds.
“Is that wise?”
“They are the perfect women to speak to. Montgomery abused and raped them too, and look at everything they suffered at the hands of the elite.” Her chest heaves. “But they survived. They are both living their best lives now. They have found a way to deal with it and move on. Nessa needs to hear that because she’s lost hope. Mom has contacts, and I’m hoping Nessa will agree to talk to a therapist. It would be good if you encouraged that too.”
“Of course. I’ll do anything I can to help her.”
“I know you will.” Abby rests her head on my shoulder, and I hug her to me.
Anderson is watching us like a hawk, but it’s not like before. There is no suspicion or wariness in his gaze these days. He’s just concerned for his wife. He hates to see her upset, and I fucking get it now. The thought of Nessa hurting so much is killing me.
“Go hug your man,” I whisper. “He needs to see you’re okay.”
“Jackson.” Abby shucks out of my arms, looking up at me. “I love her, and I admire her so fucking much. The things she’s gone through. It guts me.” Her voice chokes, and her eyes pool with unshed tears. “I know you guys have gone through hell, but please tell me this is real for you, because she can’t suffer any more pain.”
Anderson comes up behind Abby, pulling her into his arms as a sob leaves her mouth.
“I love her, Abby. I cannot stand the thought of anyone hurting her, least of all me. Which is why I will do everything, and I mean everything, to protect her and keep her safe. No one is hurting my woman again. Especially not Mathers and those other elite bastards.”
“You can’t stop that train wreck,” Hunt says, his voice grave.
I walk to the table and flop down beside Xavier. He slides me a whiskey, and I take it. Everyone is here with the exception of brooding Barron and Rick and Rebecca, because Charlie is sulking over his breakup and the other two live in Boston.
“You heard what Hamilton said tonight. Women are being initiated now, and that’s probably thanks to us,” Drew’s tone is scathing. “We’ve just made everything ten times worse.”
“We don’t know that,” Abby says over a yawn, as Anderson pulls her down onto his lap.
“The other problem is Mathers knows we killed Montgomery,” Anderson adds. “That places Nessa in even greater danger because Montgomery’s official elite membership will now be transferred to Nessa. She will have to attend official meetings, events, and votes. Either way, she’ll be expected to attend initiation too.”
There is no way I’m allowing that to happen, and I know how to stop it. I know how anal the elite are about traditions and rules. “He didn’t change the rules though. He just added to them, right?”
Anderson frowns. “What are you getting at?”
“If Nessa marries, the responsibility passes to her husband, so it’s simple. We’ll get married, and I’ll take her place.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Jackson
A DEATHLY SILENCE descends upon the table. Shock splays on most faces except for Hunt’s. He grins at me. “That would work. And it means we have another voice around the elite table.”
“You sure you want to get involved, man. You’re outside this bullshit now. Whatever hell they plan to unleash won’t be pleasant,” Anderson says.
“He’s already involved,” Drew says. “There is no such thing as being on the outside.”
“I was involved the minute Montgomery stole my sister from me,” I agree.
“You’re all forgetting one important thing here,” Abby says.
“You’re assuming Nessa wants to marry you,” Shandra cuts in, for the first time, lifting her head up from the table.
“And you’re assuming she’ll agree to let you do this,” Abby adds.
“She loves him,” Hunt says. “She won’t turn him down.” I love his confidence, but I don’t fully share it. My girl is fragile and hurting, and a lot of that is down to me. If I had all the time in the world, I know I’d win her over, but time is a luxury we don’t have. This needs to happen before the new year, and that only gives me a couple of months to prove I’m marriage-worthy.
“You agreed when Anderson posed a similar scenario,” I remind Abby.
“She refused at first,” Anderson pipes up. “Until I made her see sense.” His lips curve into a smirk.
Abby, predictably, slaps her husband’s chest. “It wasn’t until you made me see sense, dumbass. It was when you convinced me you were doing it because you loved me and not just to protect me.”
I scratch the back of my head. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Now who’s the dumbass.” Anderson’s smirk grows, but I’m too tired to flip him the bird.
“No, Jackson. It is not the same thing.” Abby jabs her finger in the air at me. “Nessa has fought like crazy to take back control of her life and stand on her own two feet. If she thinks you’re doing this just to protect her from occupying a seat around the elite table, she’ll turn you down flat. She needs to know you are doing it because you love her and can’t live without her.”
“But I can’t!” I cry out. “And it’s because I love her that I want to protect her.”
Shandra hits her head on the wooden tabletop. “No. You stupid man. If you say that, she’ll never agree.” Drew lifts her head up, rubbing at the red mark on her brow, pulling her over onto his lap, and that’s something I haven’t seen in a long time. She curls around him, clinging to him like a limpet.
Women are so fucking complicated to figure out.
“So, what do I say?”
Anderson clamps a hand down on my shoulder, lifting his tired wife in his arms. “That’s one you’ve got to work out for yourself man.”
“I’ll help,” Xavier says, lifting his head from his laptop. I’ve no clue what he’s doing, but it must be important because he hasn’t looked up once, and I didn’t even think he was following our conversation.
“Eh. Yeah, thanks, but no thanks.” I am not taking proposal advice from Xavier Daniels.
“Ouch. Dagger straight through the heart,” he quips, palming a hand over his chest.
“It’s late.” Hunt closes the lid on Xavier’s laptop, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Is it okay if we crash here too?” Drew asks, and I’m not mean enough to tell him to fuck off. Shandra is already fast asleep, her arms wrapped firmly around him like she’s afraid he’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on tight.
“Sure. You can take the bedroom at the very end of the hallway on the right.” Anderson and Hunt have their own rooms here, so everyone knows where they are sleeping.
I creep into my darkened bedroom, shedding my clothes as I walk across the carpet to the bed. Nessa is still asleep, thank fuck. Carefully, I crawl under the covers and spoon her from behind, pleased when she mumbles my name and grabs my hand, holding it against her stomach.
The next couple of weeks are some of the most painstaking of my life. I wake up every morning, dying to propose to Nessa, but I hold back because she needs time to heal. Abby took her to speak to Olivia and Sylvia, and it seems to have helped. Olivia helped Nessa find a therapist, and I drive my girlfriend there every day after classes end. We haven’t had any formal discussion of our relationship, but Nessa is more or less living here now, and she’s stopped pushing me away.
At night, we make love until she falls asleep in my arms. I hold her sobbing form against my chest when she wakes up during the night, screaming and crying, and I hate how routine her nightmares have become and how little I can do to help.
But, gradually, it gets better, and the nightmares occur every few n
ights instead of nightly, and I’m coaxing more smiles from her during the day. We drive to college together, and Nessa is a permanent fixture at our lunch table too. Apart from classes, and her therapy, we spend every spare second together, and I’ve never been happier.
The only blip on the radar is the elite threat hovering overhead like a nasty thundercloud, and my desire to make this woman mine. The second the idea occurred to me, my brain ran with it, and now, I’m obsessed about sealing the deal. I already have the ring, thanks to a shopping expedition to William Goldberg’s in New York. Mom helped me choose the ring, and I can’t wait to see it glistening on Nessa’s finger.
On Friday night, we take a run along the beach, like we usually do, and I decide to throw caution to the wind.
It’s now or never.
I’m done waiting to have this conversation.
It’s going down now.
When we’ve finished our run, I take her hand, pulling her over to the dunes that line this stretch of beach, flopping down on the grass and patting the space beside me. It’s not exactly warm this time of year, but it’s dry, and the wind isn’t too strong. We’re both still panting from our run, our body temps elevated. “Come sit with me. I have something I need to say.”
“This sounds serious,” she jokes, dropping down beside me, stretching those gorgeous, long legs out in front of her. My cock, predictably, thickens behind my shorts, but I urge the snake to simmer down.
“It is.” Our knees brush as I turn my body toward her, taking her hands in mine. I peer earnestly into her eyes, ignoring the butterflies dancing a jig in my stomach, the bile coating the back of my throat, and the nervous adrenaline shooting through my veins, concentrating on the words I have memorized. This speech is too important to get wrong, and I’ve had weeks to think about what I want to say.
“Prepare yourself,” I half-joke, smiling. “I’ve a lot to say, and all I ask is that you hear me out before you say anything.”
“Okay.” Her big eyes do nothing to hide her fear.
I press a soft kiss to her lips, and it takes colossal willpower not to turn it into something more because I love kissing her so much, and I could do it all day long. “This isn’t anything to be afraid of. Quite the opposite.”
I hope.
“Just spit it out. Please.”
“I love you. I love you so much, and I hope you’ve seen that these past few weeks, because I know you need more than just words. But today, today, I need you to listen to my words and really hear what I’m saying.” She nods, and I peck her lips again. When I pull back, I peer deep into her eyes, willing her to hear me, see me, and feel me.
“When I followed you to Lanzarote, all I thought about was you. It was all about getting to you in time to stop him hurting you. Fuck, I was so scared of what I’d find, and I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely breathe until I knew you were okay. Nothing else mattered. I was there for you.”
Yes, I killed him for all the women he’d wronged, but as we were chasing halfway around the world after Nessa, I didn’t once think about my revenge plan. It was all about saving her.
She swipes an errant tear away, and I kiss her cheek. “You have given me a purpose, Nessa, given me a reason to live. Before you, I was barely even existing. Those months I spent without you were the worst months of my entire life, because I was missing you so much, and I knew I was fucking everything up, but I didn’t know how to make it right. I couldn’t see it then, but I see it now.”
I pause for a breath, because this is the risky part. I promised myself I wouldn’t hold anything back. That I would let it all out, because there is no prospect of a future without complete and utter transparency.
“I was no better than those bastard elite. I hurt you and betrayed you and lied to you, and I swear that isn’t who I am. I will never do that to you again. The thought of hurting you makes me ill, and it’s my life’s mission to ensure that never happens.”
I raise our conjoined hands to my lips, pressing kisses on her knuckles. “You are the only woman for me, Nessa. I’ve known it all along, but it took me some time to admit it even to myself. But there is no doubt in my mind. You are my person, my soul mate, the other half of my heart, my future wife, the mother of my children, and the woman I will grow old and die with.”
I kneel, keeping our hands linked. “Marry me, Nessa.” She gasps as a steady flow of tears rolls down her face. “I have a whole romantic proposal worked out, and I have a ring, but I wanted to sit and talk to you first because I wanted you to understand how much I love you and whether we marry now or in a year, two years, ten years, shouldn’t matter because my love is eternal. It’s going nowhere. Just like me.”
I bolster my courage, praying she takes this the way it’s intended.
“But I want to get married now because I don’t want to wait. I already know I love you and that’s not changing, but I’m scared of what these bastards have planned for you. No one is ever hurting you again, Nessa, and it’s my job as your soul mate to protect you and keep you safe. You haven’t been protected or loved or cherished as you should have been, but that all ends now, because that is what I’m offering. It’s part of what comes with my heart and a place in my life as my wife.”
“What exactly are you saying, Jackson?” Her voice is choked with emotion.
“Marry me now, and let your elite responsibility pass to me. Let me shield you from those who want to hurt you. Let me protect you so our married life is a normal married life without elite interference.”
I swipe at her tears with my thumbs while my heart pounds in my chest like it’s about to take flight. “So, what do you say, babe? Will you share your life with me? Will you make me the happiest man alive by agreeing to marry me?”
Silence engulfs us, and the next few seconds add years to my life. Years.
“Yes,” she blurts, and a sob bursts from her mouth as the most beautiful smile graces her lips. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jackson.” She flings her arms around my neck. “Nothing would make me happier.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Vanessa
I’M HUMMING TO myself as I set the table for ten, running through the mental checklist in my head to see if I’ve remembered everything. This is the first time we are hosting all our friends for dinner since we got married in Las Vegas two weeks ago.
Jackson and I eloped, marrying in a cute little chapel, before celebrating our wedding with a stay in the Damien-Hirst-designed penthouse suite of the Palms Casino Resort. It was magical, and I loved that it was just the two of us. We plan on holding a proper wedding next year—Laurena will throw a fit if we don’t, and Kayleigh is dying to be a bridesmaid—once we get through the forthcoming elite shit heading our way.
It’s been a hectic time, what with our wedding, Kai and Abby’s wedding anniversary, and the fifth anniversary of Dani’s death. That was a tough day for my husband. I think Jackson thought it would get easier after avenging his sister’s death. He’s only now realizing how much grieving he has to do and that the pain of her loss will always be with him although it may fade.
We made love for hours that night, clinging to one another, remembering all the things we have to look forward to and the fact we’re both still alive, still surviving after the blows life has dealt us.
I’m glad I was the one holding him that night, the one supporting him through his pain, and that he let go and leaned on me, letting me be there for him in the way he’s been there for me.
Light catches the thirty-carat pear-shaped blue-diamond ring on my finger, reflecting colorful rays against the walls, and I still pinch myself every day because I can’t believe I’m Mrs. Jackson Lauder. Jackson’s heartfelt speech that day on the beach cemented everything for me, his words sinking soul deep and embedding in my heart, confirming the rightness of everything.
Perhaps, we’re crazy. We’re still young, we’ve been through so much shit, and we still have some stuff to work through, but nothing has ever felt mo
re right to me, and I didn’t hesitate to take this leap with him.
I haven’t regretted it, and life is about as perfect as it can be.
Except I left the store without the parmesan. Duh. Facepalm.
Grabbing my keys and my coat, I shout up the stairs, hoping Jackson can hear me. He isn’t back long from his run, and I’m unsure if he’s still in the shower or not. “I’m running to the store for parmesan,” I yell. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Make sure Dawson goes with you,” my ever-protective husband shouts back.
“Of course,” I yell, before pulling the door closed behind me, because we don’t go anywhere without bodyguards these days.
I’m thinking about my apartment and what to do with it as I climb into my Lexus, waving at Dawson as he fires up his blacked-out Land Rover, ready to trail me.
Having a bodyguard gives me peace of mind. I thought I’d hate the intrusion, but these guys are the best. They have a way of blending in so you hardly ever see them, and it’s easy to forget they’re there.
Mom readily agreed to bodyguard protection, and it gives me comfort knowing my brother and sister are safe too. Now that the elite reorganization is almost complete, and commitments will resume in due course, we are all on edge, and everyone is taking precautions. Especially us, because we have taken out two founding fathers, and let’s not forget Jackson was also responsible for Trent Montgomery’s death.
I don’t refer to him as my brother or Christian as my father because that’s not who they were to me. We shared DNA. Period. Christian was a monster, and from the stories Abby and Jackson have shared, I know Trent was too. I’m not sorry they’re dead, and I’ve made sure my husband knows that too in case he’s sheltering any stupid feelings like remorse or guilt for killing my blood relatives.
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