All of Nothing

by Vania Rheault

  “That’s not it. You look a very refined young lady. You have no problem looking like you belong here, Raven. As for what’s inside you, that will take time. But that’s true for anyone who is adapting to a new situation. If Jax loves you, he’ll be sensitive to your needs, and he’ll assist you with the transition. No, there’s something else. What is it?”

  Raven reminded herself he was paid to pry. She bit her lip, trying to formulate into words the shaky feeling in her stomach when she thought about making her stay permanent. “I don’t know Jax that well. When we met . . . he was so cold. Not even just toward me. Toward his parents, toward his brother.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “His mother told me he shot someone in the line of duty. But that was a long time ago. Why wouldn’t he have gotten over that by now?” She pressed her thumb against the diamond hearts, the stones biting into her skin.

  “Why haven’t you?” Dr. Wheland asked, then picked up his mug. “You’ve blamed yourself for Levi’s death for years. Close to seventeen to be exact.”

  Raven blushed. “Touché. He just seems so much stronger than that. And he’s had so much support around him. He threw it all away.”

  “As did you, Raven. Your parents, they offered you help? Before going with the last resort and kicking you out?”

  “Yes. They tried therapy, they tried family vacations. They tried everything to bring me around. But, they just . . . they were wounded, too, you know? And I shouldered that as well as Levi’s death. It got to be too much for me.”

  “Do you love Jax? Are you willing to put in the amount of work a marriage to a man like him would require? Or are you only marrying him for what it will do for you?”

  “What a horrible thing to say!”

  Dr. Wheland spread his hands. “He was engaged to other women who thought the same. In fact, if you told him you were marrying him for his money, would he even blink?”

  The thought made her sad. Sad for the man who had turned so cold and heartless after a mistake he didn’t think a woman would tolerate him unless he paid her. “That’s not who I am.”

  “No, it’s not. And he sees that.”

  “I’m willing to do the work. It’s just a lot to take in.”

  “It is,” Dr. Whelan agreed, closing his notebook. “But you’re strong enough, Raven. You think you’re weak for hiding on the streets. But the opposite is true. The time you spent on the streets made you stronger than you’ll ever know.”

  Raven tried to smile. “Thank you. That’s . . . a nice way to look at it.”

  “Nice, perhaps. But also true—I wouldn’t lie to you. Have you set a date yet?”

  “The date . . . is up in the air being we’re already married.”

  “Understandable. Then make time to see me. I think both of you could benefit from couple’s therapy.”

  “I don’t know if Jax would agree,” Raven said.

  “Try to convince him. You may feel uneasy because you haven’t entirely come clean with him. You haven’t told him the story of Levi’s death—not like you’ve told me?”

  “No. Only that I lost my brother when I was young, and I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know, Dr. Wheland, the details don’t seem necessary. In my healing, yes, but not in regard to my relationship with him.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Revealing the details may bring you closer together. You could tell him here, or in my office. It may help if you felt you had someone in your corner. Are you afraid he’ll blame you for Levi’s death the way you’ve blamed yourself?”

  “I . . . don’t know. That’s something I need to think about.”

  “We’ve all made mistakes, Raven. Forgive his, and he’ll forgive yours.”

  Raven didn’t have any trouble accepting Jax for who he was, or, to be more precise, who he’d turned into after the shooting.

  But there was a gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Her life before Jax, and her life after Jax . . . black and white. Raven wished she could find a shade of gray. Only then would she know she’d found her place.

  Jax stood outside the third police precinct.

  The sun shone, occasionally hidden by big, puffy white clouds. The first week of April, and the sun was finally starting to make a daily appearance. Though the temperature barely cleared thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit, the snow was slowly starting to turn to slush.

  He’d avoided the old stone building since the day he’d been cleared, and he’d never come back.

  But before he told Raven the whole story, he needed to hear it, too.

  There were so many details he’d didn’t know, both because he’d closed himself off after the shooting, and because his parents had protected him.

  If he wanted any kind of real chance with Raven, he needed to know, and put this behind him once and for all.

  Chief Morgan had been the chief of police when the shooting occurred, and Jax had an appointment with him in just a few minutes.

  The police department smelled the same, felt the same, but they’d replaced old furniture and updated public service posters, replaced the old coffeemaker and dirt-stained carpet.

  The chief’s office was still located in the same place, and Jax found it with little problem, even after all these years.

  “Jaxon Brooks,” Chief Morgan greeted him, holding out his hand. Dressed in a gray suit with an American flag and the emblem of the precinct attached to his lapel, even at sixty plus years old, the man was still a formidable force to be reckoned with, and when he shook Jax’s hand, his grip was firm and true.

  “Chief Morgan.”

  “What can I do for you, Jaxon? It’s been quite some time.”

  Jax took a seat in front of Morgan’s desk, and the chief shut the office door, drowning out the sounds of phones ringing and cops shouting.

  Morgan regarded him with serious blue eyes before taking a seat behind a massive desk piled high with papers and a multi-line phone, all the lights ablaze.

  “I have questions about the shooting, sir.”

  Jax swallowed around a lump in his throat and wished he’d taken Erik up on his offer of moral support.

  “All the information has been released. You didn’t need to come.”

  “I want to read the police report, sir.”

  The chief sat heavily in his office chair and blew out a sigh. “We’re equals now, Jaxon, you can call me Preston. I figured that’s why you made the appointment, and I asked for the file to be brought up from storage. You were cleared of any wrongdoing.”

  “I know that, sir . . . Preston. But I never found out who the . . . victim . . . was. I need to know so I can properly make amends.”

  Morgan loosened his tie. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Jaxon? It’s been sixteen years, and in my experience that would be enough time to let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “I need to have a name to attach to the face. I want to visit his grave. I need to write a formal apology to any family that young man has left. Perhaps start some kind of foundation in his name. It will never make up for what happened, and his family may not care about anything I want to do. But I need to do this for me. I’ve been living in limbo for years because I couldn’t face what I’ve done, and now it’s time.”

  “How long were you on the force before it happened?”

  “Just a few months, sir.”

  “And what have you done since then?”

  Jax bounced his knee, impatient to get going. He didn’t want to catch up Preston Morgan on what he’d done for the last sixteen years, and it didn’t matter much, anyway. Jax had made a fortune in security, and after finding out the name of the person whose life he took, he could put some of that money toward the victim’s family.

  Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to be polite. The chief wouldn’t give him what he wanted if he appeared ungrateful for the information.

  “I started Titan after the accident. I had to channel my energy into something, and I built my security firm from the ground up.”


  “What about your personal life, Jaxon?” Morgan pressed, thrumming his fingers along a beige envelope that Jax hadn’t noticed until right then. He wanted to snatch the file, memorize the details, feel the desolation and fear woven between the words of those typewritten letters.

  “I’m engaged, sir. Preston.” Meeting the wizened eyes of his superior made him stutter. He just wanted the goddamned file so he could leave. “But we’re having a problem . . . connecting.” It wasn’t any of his business, but Jax force the words out. “I need to put this behind me. I want to have a clear future with my bride.”

  “You’ve been engaged before.”

  Jax jerked his head in agreement. “And it didn’t work out, for this very reason. I can’t expect a woman to be happy with me if I can’t be happy with myself.”

  There, that drivel should be enough to make his old boss hand over the file.

  Preston nodded. “That’s so. I’ve seen many unfortunate incidents ruin marriages, ruin lives. You were able to beat some of those odds, but not all. You’ve suffered, like many police officers who pull the trigger on the job. It’s no easy feat, and the department shrink will be waiting to speak with you after we’re done here.”

  Fair enough. It would maybe be best to chat with someone before heading home, if even just for a moment, after finding out the victim’s name. He could ask her what she thought of approaching his family, of the foundation. Maybe she’d have other ideas that would assist in finally putting this behind him once and for all.

  Morgan’s phone rang, and he answered it with a clipped, “Yeah?”

  He listened for a moment and then, “Be right there.”

  Jax shifted in his chair. He hoped the call didn’t mean he would need to wait to look at the file.

  But Morgan slammed the receiver onto the cradle and picked up the dark beige manilla envelope. “I don’t have to tell you not to take this from my office. I’m wanted downstairs, and I trust you’ll find what you need, then make your way to the shrink. She’ll tell me if you don’t show up, and I’ll make your life miserable for crossing me.”

  “Yes, sir. Preston. I appreciate it.”

  Preston handed Jax the file. “I expect a wedding invitation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Preston banged out of his office without a backward glance, and Jax let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  He unwound the string holding the flap in place and pulled out the thick stack of pages his partner had typed up.

  It had taken Jax several days to pull himself together enough to contribute any details (it had taken Jax weeks just to crawl out of bed and shower) and several days after that to be cleared of any wrongdoing.

  Jax skimmed the details. They brought back that night in stark relief, not that any second had been forgotten. There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where some part of that night didn’t flit through his brain like wisps of a nightmare he couldn’t quite shake.

  If by any chance, any chance at all this would give him some peace . . .

  The victim’s name was on the top of the last page.

  At first, the letters didn’t make any sense.

  Jax did the math, but it didn’t take him long to figure out what he already knew.

  Sixteen years ago, Jax had shot down a man in a park. He hadn’t looked sketchy, but it was past midnight, dark. Jax had been trained to be prepared. Trained to assume that when someone reached into their pocket for something, that something was usually a weapon. He didn’t take a chance to find out, and he’d shot. Just one straight bullet to the heart.

  The man with dark hair wearing a jean jacket dropped to the ground in seconds.

  Stunned, Jax dropped the gun from his slick fingers where it landed on the cement with a clatter that echoed through the park.

  A scream pierced the air, but Jax hadn’t heard it over the screaming in his own brain.

  His partner radioed in immediately. “Shots fired. Man down. Ambulance needed.”

  The moment the man had fallen, Jax knew he was dead.

  Jax crumpled to the ground, his legs no longer able to sustain his weight.

  Clutching at his chest, he thought he was having a heart attack, but he’d had been told after a physical exam it was a panic attack.

  The pieces all clicked together, as Jax sat there now, rivers of tears running down his cheeks, dripping onto the report, making the typewriter ink smear.

  Raven, disappearing off the grid because she’d lost her brother.

  Levi Grey.

  There, in black type.

  Victim: Levi Grey.

  On one cool spring night, when the stars twinkled, and the breeze blew, when everything should have been right with the world, he’d shot Raven’s brother.

  Chapter 11

  A million different scenarios ran through his mind. He could keep it from her. He could confess. He could write her a letter and hide while she read it. He could tell Erik, and his brother could tell her. He could tell his mother and let her tell Raven.

  Everything he came up with turned him into one thing: a coward.

  But the one thing he decided to do turned him into something even worse.

  Jax sat in the back of the sedan, his every muscle tense with agony. With the way Justin would frequently flick his gaze to him in the rear-view mirror, his driver knew something had happened.

  Before he left the city, he made two stops. One to an apartment building he owned. He reserved a two-bedroom apartment in the heart of downtown for five years. The other brought him to his bank where he shifted money, had a debit card made. He asked the teller for an envelope, and as Justin drove him out of the city, Jax hastily scribbled a note and shoved it inside with the leasing agreement, keys for the apartment, the debit card, and a balance sheet.

  Then he used the rest of the drive home to prepare. To prepare for how he’d feel . . . after.

  He didn’t worry about her. She’d be taken care of. And she was smart and resourceful enough to make something of what he gave her.

  Jax found Raven in her room, studying. She hadn’t completely moved into his bedroom, and while that had annoyed him, he thanked her for it now.

  Her mark on his room would have been deeper than the others.

  “Raven.”

  “Hey,” she said, laying a pencil on an opened notebook. “You don’t look so good. Did you have a rough day?”

  He had to harden his heart to get through this, and he thought back to the way Gwen had treated him, to the way Lucia had used him.

  “I want you to pack and leave.”

  She licked her lips, panic shooting through her eyes. “Jax? I don’t understand.”

  Jax clutched at the envelope, the sweat from his palms soaking into the paper. “I’ve changed my mind about my proposal. I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things. When I said I loved you, I was . . . mistaken. I was caught up in the moment, and today I realized you just aren’t . . . good enough for me. You wouldn’t fit into my world, Raven. I need a Gwen, or a Lucia. I need someone who won’t embarrass me in public. I need someone I can bring to a gala and the guests won’t think she’s a whore.”

  With every word he spoke, her cheeks lost color, and bile rose in his throat. Nothing, nothing he’d ever said was further from the truth, yet, Raven nodded, even smiled.

  “I . . . it’s like you could read my mind,” she said, twisting her fingers in her lap. “I spoke with Dr. Wheland about that very thing not long ago.” She cleared her throat. “He said you loved me enough to help me fit in. I guess he doesn’t know everything after all.”

  “I’ve taken good care of you,” he forced himself to continue as if she hadn’t spoken. Jax stepped inside her room and held out the envelope. “I gave you access to an apartment downtown. The leasing agreement is inside. It has two bedrooms—one for you and one for Elle. Decorate as you like. There’s a debit card in your name, as well. I won’t be adding to the balance, but I think you’ll find it fair. I know y
ou wanted to do for yourself, but I wanted to give you plenty of time to finish your GED, perhaps earn a degree at a university. Whatever you think is best.”

  Raven took the envelope with a trembling hand. “Thank you.”

  He wanted to reach out and touch her; had never wanted anything so badly in all his life. Just one touch, to keep with him. Just one reminder of how soft her skin was, how much love she felt for him in her embrace, how much passion she possessed for him in the searing kiss of her lips.

  They may have been on different wavelengths because of the secrets they’d kept from each other, but there was one simple thing Raven had done that no other woman had done for him.

  She’d believed in him.

  That one thing was priceless.

  “Feel free to take anything you want. My mother, as well as myself, purchased those things for you as gifts, and they belong to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He had to get out of there before he took it all back. Before he dropped to her feet and confessed everything. Before he could beg her forgiveness.

  This was what he had to do.

  Do it first, before she found out and she left him.

  There was power in that.

  He twisted the knife he pushed into her back. “I’ve instructed Justin to take you where you want to go. And be out by dinnertime, please. I’ll . . . need the room.”

  The bomb landed precisely where he intended.

  But she was brave, his little Raven. She was brave, and not one tear fell from her eyes.

  “Of course.”

  It took every ounce of his strength to close the door quietly behind him and walk away.

  He’d never felt so empty inside. Not even when he pulled that trigger.

  Raven packed slowly, methodically. She would take everything Grace purchased for her. She would need the clothing as she finished school and took up a job. Looking the part was half way there—Jax had been right about that.