He shrugged. “Just saying hello.”
“Hello. Now you can leave.”
That earned me a hint of a smirk. “Last I heard, you and Cooper were broken up.”
“So?”
“So that means we can talk.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re still loyal to him?” He scrutinized me.
“So loyal that if you don’t get your ass off that stool I’m going to make you.” I didn’t know how I was going to make him, since he had half a foot on me, but I’d try!
Jack took a swig of his beer in reply, looking around the bar casually as if I hadn’t just threatened him with bodily harm.
“Well?”
He flicked his gaze back to me. “You know, Dana came to me a while ago. Just after the music festival, actually.”
“I don’t care what you and Dana get up to,” I snapped.
He shrugged again. “Just thought you might find it interesting that the reason she came to me was you.”
“Oh?” I said, dryly, still not giving a shit.
“She wanted me to seduce you.” His eyes hardened with dark humor. “Seduce you. Those were the exact words she used.”
Fury moved through me, but before I could react he said, “My father isn’t going to use what he knows about you.”
I tensed, thrown by the sharp subject change. And then by the knowledge that Jack knew, too.
I started to tremble.
Shit. I had to get to Cooper. I had to tell him.
“And why is that?”
“You broke up with Cooper. You’re no longer of any use. That doesn’t mean my father doesn’t know a good resource when he sees it. He’ll keep that information on a back burner until it proves useful again.”
Disgust roiled through me. “You son of a bitch. Both of you.”
Jack shrugged, his eyes narrowing in the direction where George had gone.
Relief moved through me as I saw George making his way back to me.
Jack got off the stool but rounded the table to face me.
I tensed as he studied me, and then he offered quietly, “Cooper’s liquor license.”
“What?”
He gave me a pointed look, his face hard with frustration. “Cooper’s. Liquor. License.”
And that was when understanding dawned.
Jack was warning me.
He was gone before I could say anything else.
“Jessica, are you okay?” George said upon his return.
I shook my head. “No. I have to get to Cooper.”
You know that scene in the movies where someone who has done another someone wrong walks into a room and everyone in it goes quiet and glares at the first someone?
No? Yes?
Well, anyway, that was exactly what happened to me when George and I walked into Cooper’s bar twenty minutes later.
Every regular, every townie in the place, stopped talking and glowered at me.
I stared back, stunned.
Until I felt George nudge me forward and my eyes flew to the bar, where Cooper was staring at me, looking as frozen and shell-shocked as I felt.
I wanted to run at him.
I wanted to launch myself over the bar at him.
I did neither of those things.
“Come on, Jessica,” George said in encouragement, “you can do this.”
With his hand pressed to my lower back, George led me over to the bar. My eyes were locked with Cooper’s the whole time, his head moving as I made my way closer to him. Until finally I was standing across the bar from him.
Neither of us said a word, just drank the other in like it had been years, not days.
“Jessica,” George urged.
“We need to talk,” I blurted out.
Cooper didn’t give me much. “About?”
“Two things.”
“Being?”
I swallowed hard at his flat tone. “Devlin.”
His eyes narrowed.
“And the truth.”
“And what if I don’t care anymore?”
My insides twisted at the thought, but I pushed through, thinking of George and how hurt and angry he’d been with Sarah at first, and how that anger had ruined any small chance he’d had of getting her away from Ron.
And then I remembered how lost in me Cooper had been the other night when he’d turned up for his “one last time” with me. “I don’t believe that.”
Something shifted in him and that was when I saw it.
I saw the pain he’d tried to hide behind lust at Vaughn’s place. But he couldn’t hide it from me.
I wanted to do everything I could to fix it, and tried to convey that with my eyes.
Finally he nodded. “Riley, watch the bar.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she said quietly.
Relief mingled with terror shook through me as Cooper strode out from behind the bar.
George squeezed my hand. “You can do this.”
I gave him a grateful, shaky smile, and then made myself move toward Cooper. I followed him out of the bar. We were silent as he led us to the parking lot at the back. I got into his truck without saying a word, then endured a very tense five-minute drive to his place.
He threw his keys in the bowl on his side table as we walked into his house and I was suddenly flooded by memories of our time together in here.
Such a short amount of time.
But it was filled with so much.
I didn’t want it to end.
I wanted to be brave with him.
“Devlin first,” Cooper said as he walked into his kitchen to pull a beer out of the fridge. He offered it to me, but I shook my head. In answer he twisted off the cap and took a slug before staring at me, waiting.
“Okay.” I took a few tentative steps toward him. “I was out with George at Germaine’s. Jack was there.”
“And?” he bit out.
“Two things. One: apparently Dana tried to encourage him to seduce me while you and I were still together.”
Something sharpened in Cooper’s eyes. “Why did he tell you that?”
“I thought at first he was just being an ass until . . . he told me the second thing.”
I was silent for a minute, lost in studying him. I’d missed him so much.
Cooper huffed, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“He brought up the subject of his father and he said three words to me before he left. ‘Cooper’s liquor license.’”
Cooper frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It was a warning. Devlin is going after your liquor license. If you can’t get your license renewed, you’re out of business.”
His eyes narrowed and then he turned and dumped the beer bottle in his sink with a clatter. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered harshly.
I wished we were in a place where I could just wrap my arms around him to soothe him. “Cooper—”
“He came to me.” His eyes blazed hell fury as he turned back to me. “He fucking threatened me and this is what it was about.”
“He can’t get away with it. We won’t let him.”
Just like that Cooper stilled, his voice still icy as he said, “We?”
My stomach roiled.
Do not upchuck.
Do. Not. Upchuck.
Be brave, Jessica.
“That is . . . if you . . . I need to tell you the truth about why I broke up with you.”
I waited until he snapped impatiently, “Well?”
I almost laughed nervously but managed to stifle it. “It’s not an easy story to tell. I just . . . It never occurred to me that I had to until you mentioned kids. I knew then . . . I knew I couldn’t tie you to me like that forever without telling you, but I wa
s so scared that if you knew the truth you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I thought it would be better to walk away than have your feelings for me go away.”
“What the hell did you do?” he whispered hoarsely.
“You have to understand,” I pleaded. “The way you reacted to Sarah’s letters, to what she did . . . I thought for sure that you would react the same to me. And I . . . I mean it when I say I haven’t spoken to anyone about this. I’ve spent so long not thinking about that time, not wanting anyone to know, that anytime someone asked about my family, about my past . . . I felt like I might die if they found out. If you ever found out.”
“Jesus, Jess . . .” His eyes softened.
“But Cat said something and then George . . . and I realize now—and I’m so sorry, Cooper, because you were right, I owe you this.”
“Then just tell me because I’m going out of my fucking mind here.”
I dragged my hands down my face and let out a shaky sigh as I tried to tamp down the wave of nausea.
“Are you going to be sick?” he said, taking a step toward me, unable to hide his concern for me.
God, please don’t let this take away that concern.
I pushed through, forcing the words out. “I didn’t just take the position at the prison because I wanted to help the women,” I said, my words stilted, fragile with fear and pain. “I took it because I felt a little like one of them; like they understood me without even knowing it.”
Cooper paled. “Jess . . .”
“I was fourteen.”
His eyes turned dark, hollowed. Mirroring mine, perhaps, as I went back there, to that place; that horrible, tormented place.
“My parents were always busy with work and each other. The only time they ever seemed to get it together for us was for some of Julia’s performances. They liked to watch her dance. We all did.
“She was eleven years old.” My chest tightened at the memory, just like it had the day I found them. “I’d been out with friends. My parents used to leave us alone a lot so I was the one who looked after Julia. There was my aunt Theresa, we were close to her, but she was at school and we only ever saw her during school breaks, and she’d look after Julia if I couldn’t. So the only time I got to myself when she wasn’t around was when my dad’s kid brother, Tony, came around. He’d lived out of state for most of our lives, but he’d moved back a few years before. I remember being glad. I liked him. I was grateful to him for being interested in us.” I curled my lip in disgust at my naïveté. “I didn’t sense anything bad from him.”
“Jesus Christ,” Cooper breathed.
“I would go out with friends when he came around because he watched Julia.” I looked over at Cooper through blurred vision, begging him to believe me. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he was doing to her until that day. I came home early and I couldn’t find them . . . but I heard something . . . down in the basement, in our games room. And what I saw . . .”
“Fuck, Jessica.” Cooper strode over to me, pulling me into his arms.
I held on to him for dear life. “I just flew at him,” I said, lost in the memory. “This rage just came over me. It startled him enough that I was able to grab Julia. We were running up the stairs”—my grip on Coop tightened—“and he caught hold of her and there was this look in his eyes . . . God, it was like staring straight into evil.” The words tumbled out of me. “And I just—I just had this overwhelming sense that he wasn’t going to let us out of there alive.” I pulled back. “I don’t know if it was just the fear of a kid or if I felt something instinctual, but whatever it was . . . I managed to pull Julia away from him, but he came at me at the top of the stairs. He got me on my back and it was a blur . . . he just kept punching me until suddenly he wasn’t on me and I heard my sister scream. When I got up, when I could focus, he had her pinned against the wall, and he was choking her. I had to stop him. My father’s golf clubs were there. I took one. I swung.” I closed my eyes, still remembering the shudder of impact up my arms, the sickening thud of it against his head. “He fell down the stairs. Broke his neck.”
I found the courage to look up at Cooper. He stared down at me, looking tortured. “I killed my uncle.”
His eyes shone for me. “Jessica.”
“Julia told our parents what had happened. What had been happening. For two years.” My face crumpled again. I’d failed her. “I wasn’t sentenced. The police considered it self-defense—I was badly beaten and my sister bore physical evidence of everything we’d said had happened. But we were both put into therapy for a long time. It helped.” I let out a long breath. “For me. But then Julia just . . . she focused in on dancing. To an unhealthy degree. And when she didn’t get into the school of her dreams, she hung herself in my parents’ basement. I was the one who found her.
“My parents blamed me. They refused to believe that she killed herself because of what Tony did. They said she couldn’t live with the memory, the horror, of watching her sister kill a man right in front of her. And me . . . well, I let them get away with it because the truth is, I failed her.”
I saw Cooper’s face transform, the fury burning in his blue eyes. “No. Your parents failed Julia. You fought for her.” His grip on me tightened as he tugged me close. “Jess, what you did . . . it was brave. You know that, right? And every day since has been brave. Why are you punishing yourself? You killed a man defending yourself and the person you loved. Horrific for you, yes. But I cannot say I wouldn’t have done the same fucking thing.”
I sobbed, relief rocking through me. “Really?”
“Yes.”
My tears came faster as hard, wracking shudders moved through my body. I fell into Cooper and accepted his compassion, his understanding. Suddenly I was swung up into his arms and I clung to him, burying my face in his neck as he climbed the stairs.
He settled on his bed, tucking me into him, holding me tight and letting me cry all the tears I’d kept bottled up for years.
Cooper
Jess’s tears subsided after a while, her body stopped moving in little juddering jerks against his, and her shallow breathing eased out.
Cooper held her so tight, wishing like hell there were magic words or actions that could take away her traumatic past.
Fuck.
He’d known she was hiding something, and he’d known for her to break up with him that it had to be bad, but he’d never have been able to imagine it was as bad as it was.
The things she’d seen as a kid . . .
And all Cooper could think was that no one would ever know it—that she was haunted like she was. She’d become a doctor, she practiced kindness in every way, and she loved to laugh and make other people smile. There was so much light in her, despite the dark trying to snuff it out.
“I wish I hadn’t reacted the way I did,” he suddenly said into the quiet of his bedroom, “about Sarah.”
Jess’s fingers curled into his T-shirt. “What do you mean?” Her voice was scratchy from all her crying.
He squeezed her closer, not ever wanting to let her go. “If I had been more compassionate about her letters, you might have had the courage to tell me about this sooner.”
She pulled away so she could look at him.
He drank in her red-rimmed, puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks and felt an overwhelming surge of tenderness for her.
“Cooper, no.” Jess shook her head. “Even if you had, there’s no guarantee I would have felt brave enough to tell you. It took losing you, as horrible as that is; it took losing you. But you . . . I know you.” She pressed her hand over his heart. “I should have trusted in you and I am so sorry.”
“Jess,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over her damp cheek, “you’ve got so much to work through. But I’ll be here while you do it. Never doubt that.”
She bit her lip in thought and after a while she nodded. “Matthew is
the only person still in my life from then who knows what I did. But I wouldn’t talk to him about it, either. Ever. The records are sealed. I was scared to tell anyone because of how my parents treated me. Even before Julia died, they wanted nothing to do with me. To them I was monstrous for what I’d done. I was scared everyone would feel the same way. Even Theresa. I shut her out, too. I haven’t spoken to her since Julia’s funeral. I couldn’t stand it if I found out that she, of all people, thought I was a monster, too.”
Indignation raged through Cooper. “Your parents are the monsters, Jess. They didn’t protect you. Either of you.”
“Rationally I know that.” She nodded. “But their rejection left its mark. My whole life I’ve been terrified to let anyone in. But everyone needs to feel needed and being a doctor gave me something I just wasn’t getting in my personal life. It also felt like redemption.”
“You don’t need to be redeemed.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “I thought I did. I didn’t realize until I got here just how empty I’d made my life. On some level I guess I knew that I was still punishing myself, but coming here . . . I felt this peace I can’t explain. I’ve never felt any kind of peace before and I didn’t want to lose it. It made me question everything. About why I was really a doctor, why I didn’t have anyone in my life . . .” Her smile turned open and warm. “And you and Bailey—you liked me. Me. Not the doctor part.”
“I liked that part, too,” Cooper said honestly, “because I think it is a part of you. It’s not just a way to be redeemed. You save people, Jess. You’ve been doing it since you were fourteen. It’s who you are.”
Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, but she was smiling. “You really think so?”
Cooper needed her to understand this once and for all. He sat up, cupping her face in his hands, and he said, “It hurts like hell knowing you’ve seen what you have, done what you have, but it came from a place of survival, strength, bravery, and loyalty. I don’t see anything but beauty in that.”
Jess stared at him in astonishment, in wonder. Finally she whispered, “Where did you come from, Cooper Lawson?”
She loved him.
He knew it without her having to say it.
The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk) Page 33