Stunned to be this close to her, I couldn’t speak.
Emotion, anger being the foremost, clogged my throat, and I realized I hadn’t let go of my fury toward her as much as I’d like to think.
“Are you sick or does someone you love have cancer?” she asked tentatively, as though she was afraid to spook me.
Look at her. That seemingly genuine concern in her eyes. Was it real? How could it be? How could a kind person do what she had done to Jamie? Did they talk about pain management in her support group? I could talk about that for days, how Jamie was in so much pain, there didn’t seem to be anything I could do to take it away. “Someone I love,” I whispered.
Elena nodded. “It’s difficult, isn’t it?”
“Very.”
She held out her hand. “I’m Elena. I run the Coping with Cancer support group.”
I stared at her held-out hand. I couldn’t shake it.
Her smile wilted a little as she lowered it. “Why didn’t you join us today?”
“It didn’t … it didn’t feel right,” I answered honestly.
She nodded like she understood. “It can be difficult to open up to a room of strangers, but it’s amazing how much relief can be found from talking with people who understand what you’re going through. Or people who have cancer and can offer you advice on how to be there for your loved one.”
“What is it for you?” I asked. “Did you have cancer or was it someone you loved?”
“I have cancer.” Her smile trembled a little. “I fought breast cancer several years ago, but I just found out that it’s back.”
Fuck.
I bowed my head, looking at my feet. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve fought it before. I’ll fight it again.” Elena sighed heavily. “Why did you come today?”
Why did you do what you did?
That’s what I really wanted to ask. Instead, I looked at her and let all my confusion and anger blaze out of my eyes. “Something took our power away. Both of us. His and mine.” Not something. Someone. You did. Foster did. Wright. Kramer. You all took his power away. “And it hasn’t come back. I’m powerless to help him, and I think he blames me.” I know he blames me. “I think he feels abandoned …”
She nodded in understanding. “I can’t tell you whether that’s how your …”
“Boyfriend,” I offered.
“How your boyfriend feels. But is it possible you’re projecting? That helplessness is making you feel you’re not doing enough for him?” She edged closer. “All you can do is be there to offer comfort and hold his hand through this, to make sure he knows you’re not going anywhere.”
I glanced away, wondering if it would be enough. And was I a moron for even considering seeing Jamie through this, hoping I’d get the man I used to love back?
It was too confusing.
One minute I didn’t want anything to do with Jamie, and the next I was desperate to find a way to bring him peace again.
“The others in the group can offer you great insight.” Elena stood, and I followed suit. “Why don’t you come back next week? We’ll be here. Same time.”
I nodded, muttering my thanks under my breath as I turned to walk out.
“Hey, I didn’t get your name!” I heard her call after me.
I didn’t answer. I just kept walking.
And it wasn’t until I got into my car, I realized I hadn’t asked Elena a thing about her life like I was supposed to.
My phone beeped just as I was about to pull away. It was a text from Lincoln.
Can’t wait to see you tonight.
Just like that, I felt overwhelmed by resentment.
Jamie was sending me out on a fake date with a cop. I’d lied to get close to Elena Marshall.
I felt like I was losing myself.
And was I willing to do that for Jamie, when he didn’t seem to care that my actions over the next few weeks could mark me forever?
“What do you want, Jane?” I bit out under my breath, my fists squeezing the steering wheel.
I wanted justice.
I wanted to know that the people who had hurt my family weren’t getting to live life like they hadn’t inflicted irreparable damage on others.
I wanted peace for Jamie, and for myself.
But I didn’t want to lose myself to get it, and now I didn’t know how to turn back.
I was frustrated. But it was easier to resent Jamie. That resentment simmered as I drove back to Silver Lake.
Chapter 27
JAMIE
* * *
With exposed ducts and pipes, oversized Edison bulbs as light fixtures, and wood and steel furniture, the Italian restaurant had a casual warehouse vibe. Sitting at the bar centered in a room crowded with tables, I had an eyeline to Jane and Lincoln Gaines.
I hadn’t seen Jane in days. Although she answered my texts, she wouldn’t answer my calls and I was itching to see her. My agent wanted me to sign off on the proof copy of my second manuscript, which provided me with little distraction since Jane was the inspiration for the twisted love story I’d written. Jane was like a hangnail. I could put her to the back of my mind, but the sting remained.
That’s why I’d been watching for her return from the visit to Elena’s support group. I stood in my doorway, waiting as her footsteps echoed up the stairwell. As soon as she turned the corner and came into view, my skin crackled to life.
Despite looking a little drawn, Jane was beautiful, as always, as she caught sight of me and continued upstairs without faltering. She drew to a halt. “I didn’t go in.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise me. And it didn’t bother me. Jane was nothing if not respectful of other people’s pain. “Okay.”
“I did speak to her.”
The idea of Jane anywhere near the dangerous bitch agitated me. But I was the bastard who’d asked her to do it. When she relayed she’d learned nothing from her, I told her it didn’t matter. She’d made contact. It was a start.
Now I was the bastard encouraging her to go on a date with Gaines. If Jane was uncomfortable with it, she’d be gratified to know I was a goddamn mess. The two of them made a striking couple, dressed casually for the relaxed restaurant. They exchanged smiles as they chatted, each one of Jane’s a dagger in my fucking gut.
When Gaines reached over and touched her hand for the fifth time, I almost aimed my table knife in his direction.
The plan was for Jane to not overengage in our agenda this evening. Get to know Gaines. Go in stealthy. Ask only a few questions about his job and his partner, Ethan Wright. This would be a slow game, and one I hadn’t thought through.
There was no way Jane could keep Gaines at bay when it came to sex. At first, sure. But after a few weeks?
Sex? Touching and kissing was bad enough.
On what planet did I ever think I could stand by and let Jane do this? And not just because it was eating me alive with jealousy to see her on a date with another man, but because I was swinging her ass out there. She could get hurt. Never mind physically hurt. Jane hated lying to people. This subterfuge must be twisting her up inside.
“Lincoln’s a nice guy. We shouldn’t do this to him.”
“You can back out anytime.”
“No.”
I thought I could do this. I thought I could use her.
I couldn’t.
I sat there stewing over dinner for two hours as I watched Jane and Gaines through the passing bodies of people who came and went at the bar. Fuck this. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I was about to send Jane a text to tell her to end it when I noted Gaines asking for the check.
Shit.
I hurried to do the same and had just paid as Jane and Gaines got up from the table. He put his hand on her lower back to lead her out, and my eyes zeroed in on the spot. I wanted to rip his hand off.
Seething, I followed them out of the restaurant at a distance and sent Jane a text to tell her to find an excuse to finish up the date. There had to be anoth
er way to get to Wright. One that didn’t involve Jane lying to a cop for weeks.
To keep up the ruse, Jane had taken my Porsche and I was driving her car. Whatever she said to him had him leading her to where she’d parked the sports car a block around the corner from the restaurant. I couldn’t get parked near her. Fucking downtown. It was a miracle she’d found a parking spot this close to the restaurant.
Keeping my distance, I watched as Gaines suddenly slipped his hand around Jane’s waist and bent to kiss her.
Not just a peck either.
No, he went for it.
And she kissed him back.
My heart stumbled as I watched her press her palms to Gaines’s chest. Wait, was she kissing him back or pushing him away? Panicked, I made to stride toward them when they suddenly broke apart and she gave the dickhead a shy smile. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, pressed a kiss to her nose, and stepped back.
Adrenaline shot through me, and I barely had time to turn around and walk away before the cop spotted me. I disappeared around the corner and peeked back to see if Jane was in the Porsche.
What the hell was that? Why the fuck did she kiss him back?
What else was she supposed to do? I argued with myself as I marched to Jane’s car.
By the time I got back to Silver Lake, my Porsche was in my parking space. I drove Jane’s into hers and dashed inside the building. I didn’t know what I expected when I hammered my fist on her apartment door.
I wanted to kiss her. To make the taste of Lincoln Gaines a distant fucking memory, and I didn’t care what that said about me.
She called out that the door was open. I strode inside her apartment, slamming the door behind me, and came to an abrupt halt.
Jane stood in the middle of her living room, and she looked tortured.
Actually tortured.
Acid burned in my gut.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out before she could speak. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”
“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.”
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