Black Tangled Heart

by Samantha Young

  “Because it made you jealous?”

  “Yes, I was jealous.” I surprised the hell out of myself by admitting it. “But that’s not why I shouldn’t have asked you. I’m putting you in a position I would kill someone else for putting you in.”

  “You hate me. Why do you care what any of this is doing to me? Isn’t it part of your grand plan, Jamie? I mean, I’m just Asher Steadman’s whore to you. I fucked around behind your back when you were in prison, right? That’s what you told yourself. I’m a traitorous bitch you threw away because you stopped having faith in—”

  I couldn’t listen to this. “Jane—”

  She stepped toward me, face mottled with fury and pain. “Who cares who I have to lie to, or what personal morals I have to compromise, or who I have to fuck so you can get your revenge, right? I should see it as a positive, shouldn’t I? Fucking Gaines will expand my experience, let me catch up with yours.”

  I grabbed her biceps, forcing her to look at me. “Stop it.”

  “Oh, does that bother you, Jamie? Thinking of me and Lincoln. Or do you get off on it? Does the sting of jealousy feel good? The knowledge that you’ve pushed me right down to where you think I belong? I’m just scum, right? I don’t need you to care about me anymore. I don’t need you or Asher or Lorna to want me, to love me. I don’t need to hide behind a name my adoptive parents gave me because I grieve for the life that should have been mine. I should stop living in a fantasy world.

  “I’m just Jane Doe. I’m nothing. I’m unlovable. I’m an emotional punching bag. Use me for what gets you off and then just spit on what’s left.” She laughed hysterically.

  Fear climbed through me. “Jane, stop it.”

  “I hate you.” Her laughter turned to sobs.

  “No, you don’t.” I pulled her toward me.

  Then she shocked the shit out of me by wrenching away and screaming, “I HATE YOU!” with such anguish, she almost took me out at the knees.

  Tears burned in my eyes as she stood, chest heaving with shallow breaths, and stared at me in disgust. “Jane—”

  “Get out! I hate you, get out!” she yelled over and over.

  Fuck! I hauled her into my arms, wrapping Jane in a constricting embrace as I pressed my lips to her ear and begged her to stop. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t my Jane.

  I was terrified I’d broken her.

  And I realized as I covered Jane’s tear-stained face in kisses and felt her fingernails dig into my back as she held onto me that I would never hurt her.

  I couldn’t.

  Not like I’d planned.

  I couldn’t even witness her in pain without it breaking me apart.

  Because no matter the fact that she abandoned me when I needed her, I still loved her.

  I would always love Jane.

  It was the kind of love that would never fade.

  I forgave her.

  If the choice was between not forgiving her and being without her, then I forgave her.

  I’d forgive Jane anything.

  JANE

  Shaking and trembling in Jamie’s embrace, I felt in shock. I had no idea I would lose it like that.

  Yet I knew it had been building all day. For days, actually. Seeing Elena had reminded me of how much pain I’d been in for Jamie when he went to prison. The pain I’d been in that visiting him behind bars. It was the first time I’d realized that loving someone meant hurting for them more than you would for yourself. I still felt that for him.

  And he’d sent me on a date with another guy.

  Not just any guy.

  A cop.

  One partnered with a dangerous cop.

  I knew I’d volunteered to do it, but as I sat across from Lincoln Gaines, that fuse of resentment that sparked earlier in the day burned down to the wire. How could Jamie be all right with putting me in that position? In what reality was it okay that he not only let me do this, he handed me the keys to his Porsche for the date and reminded me “to treat tonight like an actual date and not push on anything regarding Wright.”

  I resented Jamie. I resented my feelings for him and his lack of feelings for me.

  I was indignant that I be treated like the bad guy when he was the one who broke up with me.

  Even if he had misunderstood the Asher situation, he knew the truth now, and yet he was still using me.

  We’d had sex, and he pretended like it never happened.

  Then there was me. A woman who’d changed her legal name to the one her adoptive parents gave her, clinging to something I should’ve let go a long time ago. I had, once. When Jamie and I fell in love, I’d finally let go of dreaming for a life as Margot Higgins.

  But then he pushed me away.

  And I was right back at square one.

  Only for him to return—and now, wasn’t I just clinging to him the same way I’d clung to a girl who didn’t exist?

  For days, I’d been telling myself I was okay. That I’d survive Jamie coming back into my life. That I’d survive Asher’s lies.

  I’d survive.

  But you can keep telling yourself you’re okay and not be okay. I was a goddamn swan on the water, calm on the surface, and kicking like hell beneath it.

  Those feelings exploded out of me when I least expected them to.

  “I’m sorry.” Jamie’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “I’m sorry, Doe.”

  I tensed at the old endearment.

  Feeling me stiffen, Jamie’s embrace only tightened. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “You don’t mean it,” I whispered.

  “You scared me.” He kissed a tear track on my cheek and followed its trail to the corner of my mouth. Holding my face in his hands, he switched to the other cheek, his stubble prickling me with the movement. Then he kissed every bit of skin a tear had touched. I was afraid to move. Afraid to break the spell of his gentleness.

  And I was exhausted from my meltdown.

  I didn’t understand what was happening.

  When his lips brushed over mine, my breath hitched as they tingled, and I jerked my head back to stare into his eyes.

  What I saw there made my heart stop.

  Jamie, my Jamie, gazed down at me. Like he used to. Like he loved me. It chipped at my weakness. “Don’t,” I demanded hoarsely. “Don’t look at me like that when you don’t mean it.”

  “I do mean it.” He leaned in to brush his mouth over mine again, and he groaned before burying his head in the crook of my neck. The rasp of his unshaven cheeks against my skin made me shiver. His hands moved around my back and he crushed me to him. “I need you to forgive me.”

  Astonished, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t lift my arms to return his embrace. What was happening?

  Jamie sighed against me and then lifted his head. But he didn’t let me go. His hands rested possessively on my hips. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

  My heart stopped.

  “You don’t treat someone you love the way you’ve treated me.”

  Remorse darkened his face. “I know. I wish I knew how to take it back.”

  “You pushed me away when you were in prison. You know that, don’t you? It started back then. I’d tell you I loved you, and you stopped saying it back. I counted how many times.” Fresh tears filled my eyes as I stared up him, thinking of all the years we lost and not because he was in prison. “Twelve times. Twelve weeks I visited and said I love you, and you never said it back. It started then. You hated me then, didn’t you? You blamed me for telling you about the diaries.”

  Disbelief slackened Jamie’s expression, and his grip on me turned bruising. “Jane, no. No. I didn’t then and I don’t now.”

  “Then why?”

  “I didn’t …” He exhaled shakily. “I didn’t plan to push you away. But I guess I did, and once you were gone, I needed to hate you.”

  A score of anguish cut through my chest and I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “No, Jane.” He bent his head
to me, gazing fiercely into my eyes. “I didn’t believe I deserved happiness. I don’t believe it. Not after what happened to Skye under my fucking nose. Not after I lost you. Not after the things I stood by and let happen in that place. Coming after you, hating you, I knew it would mean we’d be ruined forever. That I could never get you back.”

  Horrible understanding made me relax against him. Oh, Jamie. “It was self-destruction.”

  He flinched and looked down at where we touched. “I don’t deserve you …” His eyes returned to mine, tears shining in them. “But from the moment I saw you again, I wanted the past seven years to have been a nightmare that I could wake up from.” He stumbled back, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Tell me to leave, Jane. Tell me to get the fuck out of your life because I can’t let go of what they did to me. I can’t move on, and you deserve the chance to move on.”

  I couldn’t.

  Whether it was right or wrong, I still wanted justice too.

  But more than that, I wanted him.

  I loved him.

  Why couldn’t I stop loving him?

  “Jamie.” I took a step toward him. “I can’t tell you to leave. I want you to stay, but if you do, we’re a team. You respect me, and I respect you. The first time you insult me or try to make me feel less than I am, I will walk away for good.”

  “A second chance?” His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

  I nodded, my heart beating hard. “If we don’t at least try, then those bastards really did win, didn’t they?”

  Suddenly, I was in Jamie’s arms and he was kissing me like I was oxygen. The familiar taste of him, the hungry emotion in his kiss, flicked a switch in me. Everything else, all the worries, all the forgiveness that would be a daily endeavor to overcome, were gone. It was just me and Jamie. As if the last seven years had never happened.

  His growl of need vibrated down my throat, tugging deep in my belly. We stumbled against the wall as Jamie gripped the back of my neck with one hand and slid the other down my stomach. His fingers hooked inside the waistband of my jeans, yanking me into his body.

  I kissed him harder and clung to him, my fingers digging into his back as I lifted my leg, my thigh pressed to his hip as I undulated against the hard heat of him. He bent his knees and then rolled his hips up into mine so his erection nudged between my legs. My lips parted on a whimper of lust and seven years of need.

  Yes, we’d had sex already.

  But this was different.

  Before, it was an angry submission to passion.

  Now … now we could be Jamie and Jane again.

  Jamie’s hand tightened around my neck, and he groaned. I felt my breasts swell, my nipples hardening into tight, needy points. Desire built low in my womb as I moved against him. God, it was like when we were teenagers.

  His kisses grew more demanding, long, dizzying kisses, each one seeming to make up for years of missing my lips. We were panting and pulling at each other’s mouths like we couldn’t get deep enough.

  I slid my hands up his back and over his shoulders, my fingers sinking into his hair as I silently begged for more, for harder, for deeper, for everything.

  From him.

  Jamie.

  Was this really happening?

  Needing him to touch me, I took his hand off the waistband of my jeans and pressed it to my breast. His kiss turned almost savage as he crushed me deeper against the wall and squeezed. I gasped into his kiss as his thumb swiped across my nipple. I needed to be naked. I needed to feel him everywhere.

  Jamie broke the kiss, but only to haul me into his arms. I held on and wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us toward my bedroom. “I love you, Doe.” His expression was harsh with emotion.

  I brushed my thumb over his mouth, melting into him. My heart raced. The moment felt so surreal. “I love you, Jamie. I never stopped.”

  His eyes flashed with satisfaction as he kissed me on our descent to the bed. I expected it to be fast, hurried and explosive. Instead, he slowly undressed me until I was naked and shivering with need on the bed. I watched as Jamie stood over me, hungry eyes taking in every detail of my body as he removed his clothes. He was even more beautiful than I remembered. Lean but strong, defined abs and V-cut obliques that made my mouth water. An ache flared across my chest at the sight of the small white scar on the right side of his upper belly.

  I caressed it, remembering the fear that accompanied the memory.

  I met his gaze and saw the love in his moody ocean eyes, and everything within me tightened with anticipation.

  His eyes darkened and my hips rose slightly off the bed.

  He knew.

  Jamie knew how much being loved by him turned me on.

  He put a knee on the bed, his erection thick, throbbing, and proud as he straddled me. I whispered his name. He was quiet. When we were younger, Jamie would tell me everything he wanted to do to me, or how what he was doing to me made him feel. But this moment was too big for words.

  I understood.

  His fingertips trailed over the tops of my thighs as he hovered above me and bent to brush his lips over mine. I clung to his waist, loving the feel of his sleek, hard, warm strength, and I captured his mouth again before he could retreat.

  I poured everything I felt into that kiss. I love you, I love you, I love you. Jamie clasped my face in his hand as he sunk into it, our tongues dancing together in the deepest kiss of my life. I felt tears burn in my throat but fought to keep them at bay as his lips reluctantly left mine to kiss a trail down my throat.

  I loved the scratch of his stubble on my skin.

  It was still new, reminding me this wasn’t seven years ago, and what was happening between us was more poignant for it.

  Jamie pressed soft kisses down my chest and took his time kissing and caressing my breasts. He spent so much time laving and licking and sucking my nipples that I writhed beneath him, on the verge of coming. My skin was on fire, my heart thundering in my chest, the tension coiled deep in my belly.

  “Jamie,” I gasped as he suckled my nipple until it was unbearably sensitive. “I’m going to come.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “Not yet.”

  His lips left my breasts only to kiss a path down my stomach. He licked at my belly button and I shifted my hips impatiently. I wanted him to reach the destination already.

  The sound of his soft laughter, his breath hot on my skin, caused a pang of sweet happiness. I grinned at the sound, my fingers shifting through his thick, silky hair as he glanced up my body to share a smile.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  Jamie’s eyes brightened. “I love you more.”

  “So competitive,” I teased.

  He chuckled and then kissed me just above my sex, his eyes on me.

  My breath caught as his lips skirted where I wanted them to go. He raised my left thigh off the bed and started at my knee. His kisses were wet, savoring, hungry, as his mouth made its way up my inner thigh. His stubble scratched and tickled, adding a whole new layer of sensation to the experience. When he licked the crease between my thigh and sex, my hips lifted off the bed with a startled gasp.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said reverently, his breath puffing against me.

  “Please.” I slid my fingers in his hair, staring down at him in torment. “Please.”

  His mouth came down on me.

  I whimpered, throwing my head back, hands fisting the sheets at my sides as I let my legs fall open to him. He flicked my clit in a tease, circling it, tormenting me. Then something took him over. Jamie’s hands gripped tight to my thighs as his mouth devoured.

  I could feel my climax teetering on the edge, the muscles in my thighs trembling and tightening.

  Then his fingers entered the playing field.

  I gasped, moaning in growing need as he pushed me further toward orgasm.

  It didn’t take long. I stiffened and exploded, crying out his name as my inner muscles clamped around
his fingers.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Jamie kept sucking, licking me, groaning and growling like a starving man, until I was coming again. “Jamie!” I screamed his name in disbelief as another orgasm shuddered through me.

  Then he was over me, his mouth on mine, his tongue licking at my tongue, until I could taste us both.

  He broke the kiss, his expression pained. “Condom,” he panted.

  “I’m on the pill.” I was frantic. I didn’t want to wait. I could feel him hard and throbbing against my wet, and I wanted him.

  Jamie looked in agony as he shook his head. “I haven’t been checked in six months.”

  It was a cold, hard splash of reality.

  Jamie had slept with another woman, perhaps several, in the last six months.

  It cooled my skin.

  “No, no.” Jamie rested more of his weight into me as he stared into my eyes. “Don’t think about it. Don’t pull away. No one has ever meant anything to me but you … and as much as I want to come inside you, I love you too much. I’m not going bare until I’ve been checked.”

  I nodded, my emotions swinging from left to right. This was my Jamie in my arms. The Jamie who protected me from everything, even himself. Still, “I don’t have any condoms.”

  He lowered his forehead to my chest and took a deep, shaky breath. “Give me a second.” Then he jumped off the bed and hurried out of the bedroom.

  I raised myself onto my elbows as I listened to my front door open. Then I heard the distant sound of his apartment door opening and slamming a few seconds later.

  Then my door banged shut.

  Jamie marched into the bedroom, and I swear I had a mini orgasm at the sight of him rolling a condom onto his hard length.

  “God, you’re unfairly hot,” I groaned, flopping back against the bed, my legs parting naturally for him.

  “You’re one to talk.” He threw himself on me, and I laughed.

  My laughter petered out into gasps, however, as he claimed my body with more kisses.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he demanded gruffly against my lips.

  I did as he asked, feeling him nudge between my legs. “Jamie.” I sighed needfully.