When my mother met my father, he was a good guy,” I said. “All throughout dating, and even after they were married, he was normal. He hid it well, I guess. He was the love of her life. She trusted him. It wasn’t until her pregnancy that he changed. Something inside of him snapped, and suddenly he wasn’t him anymore. It’s as if he’d been putting on a façade their entire relationship, and it finally reared its ugly head when she got knocked up with me.”
“Don’t tell me you blame yourself,” Jackson said. I turned away from him, feeling the tears pool in my eyes. I nibbled on my lip to keep from crying and shrugged.
“He beat her senseless one day, in her second trimester. He almost killed me. I think that was his intention.”
Jackson’s hand tightened around mine automatically, and when I trusted myself to look over at him, he had his eyes closed.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I had no idea, about any of it.”
“I know,” I said. “That was my intention. I don’t think it’s necessarily anyone’s business.” I pulled my hand away from his and sat up, drawing the comforter up around my naked body. Jackson sat up, too, looking perplexed.
“Grace?” he said, and reached for me. I pulled away and looked at the wall.
“I think you should go,” I said, and my voice cracked, just a little bit.
“What?”
“You need to leave.”
“Grace ...”
“Now.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jackson stood up from my bed. I didn’t look at him as he pulled on his pants and shirt. He had his eyes on me the whole time, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I felt sick suddenly, as though I was lying on an operating table with my guts splayed out for all the world to see.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Jackson said, resting his hand on the doorknob. I shook my head, still unable to meet his gaze.
“Go,” I said. A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I tried to brush it away before Jackson saw it. “Just go.”
“Actually, no.” Jackson stopped where he was, dropping his hand from the door handle to turn back around and face me. “I’m not going to go. I’m going to stay here. And I don’t care if you hate me for it, but I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”
Chapter 46
Jackson
If I hadn’t known what to think before I was ever with her, I sure as hell wasn’t sure what to think now. Her mood had changed so suddenly, so abrupt that I felt like I had emotional whiplash. I knew what the issue was, of course. I wasn’t daft. She was scared. She was scared to be hurt by me, frightened I was a man like her father was. Had I been able to convince her in that very moment that there was no way in hell I could ever treat her like that, there hadn’t been time. So now here I was, my head whirling and spinning as I tried to piece together everything that was happening between us.
Next to me in her bed, Grace stirred, one cheek resting on my bare chest and her free hand still holding mine. She was asleep, finally, if not restlessly, but I was glad I stayed. Leaving her alone in these moments would be no better than something her father would have done.
Being with Grace tonight felt so good, so real. I’d been with a lot of women in my college years, and they’d come and gone like a bump in the road; nothing to remember, everything to forget. But Grace . . . Jesus, the girl had me on my toes every second of every day, and I was pretty sure she had no idea just what she was doing to me. Had someone told me that I would learn to adore the drunk girl that puked in the bushes the first night I’d met her, I would have laughed in their face and probably insulted her, too. And now I couldn’t think of anything else but her. I didn’t want to. I wanted to think of her, to see her, to be with her all the time. I wanted to hold her in my arms and bring her close to me. I wanted to smell the perfume she used and bury my lips in her hair. I wanted to touch her soft, warm skin whenever I wanted to and kiss her every second. I wanted her. I wanted all of her.
It didn’t seem to matter what I wanted, however, because Grace wasn’t making this easy on either of us. She was insecure, frightened. She was a control freak; that had become abundantly clear in the time I’d known her, and I knew she felt like she was losing control by being with me. If I knew Grace at all, losing control was something she was not about to do well, or easily for that matter.
Hearing about her father tonight had conjured a rage in the pit of my stomach; a rage that I hadn’t experienced in years. I wanted to find this man and beat the hell out of him for laying a finger on Grace and her mother. I wanted to make him suffer the way he’d made her suffer all these years. I couldn’t imagine going through that as a young child; watching your father beat your mother senseless right in front of you. My dad had never laid a hand on my mother, but the emotional abuse we’d both endured over the years felt just as bad sometimes. Grace’s issues were a direct result of her father, and she was hurting. Every moment, every day. How could one ever forget something like that?
Maybe she never would.
Chapter 47
Grace
When I woke the next morning, Jackson was gone, but a hand-scribbled note sat next to my bed on top of the nightstand. The note said he’d gone to class already, but couldn’t wait to see me later. The mere thought of seeing him again set my nerves on edge and my anxiety into high-drive. I’d given myself to Jackson completely, not just physically, but emotionally as well, and now things were about to get real. I should have kept my mouth shut, forced my issues down so they wouldn’t rear their ugly heads and scare him off, which I knew they were eventually bound to do. I was a glutton for punishment when it came to my secrets, and most guys couldn’t handle it, which is why I’d never told anyone. The one people in my life who knew about the abuse was Alex, and even before her, it was Shawn. It had never been anyone else’s business. Now it was, though, and I regretted ever speaking the words to him.
Alex was still asleep as I made a pot of coffee and packed my bag for class. I considered skipping and going back to bed, but I couldn’t let my emotional drama get in the way of school. I wasn’t about to shatter the biggest goal in my life over a shitty one-night stand with a guy I’d probably never hear from again, despite the note. A scribbled message on paper meant nothing; if I acted quickly enough, I could nip this nightmare in the bud before either of us were drowning in an even deeper sinkhole.
It was a struggle to stay awake in my first class, but I was feeling a little bit better by the time noon rolled around, and I’d consumed my fifth cup of coffee. Per usual, I took my break in-between classes in the cafeteria, grabbing a muffin and a bottle of water to water down the caffeine in my system. I took a seat in the furthest empty booth and pulled out my notebook to jot down a few notes for an upcoming article on the rodeo team that Gavin had assigned to me. After Jackson’s accident, he had no interest in reporting so vehemently on the football team. Apparently, they weren’t as impressive without their Golden Boy, so after he’d landed in the hospital, I’d moved onto bigger and better things: rednecks and their bull-riding thrills.
I was so consumed in my writing I almost didn’t see Jackson approach me from across the cafeteria. He wore a hooded sweatshirt with the University’s logo etched across the front, and his hands lingered in the front pocket. He stopped in front of the table and stared at me.
“Hey,” he said. I hated that I felt exhilaration buzz through my body when I heard his voice.
“What do you want?” I couldn’t make eye contact with him for long because I knew if I did my face would flush bright red and give my anxiety away. I felt like we were back to the very moment I’d met him, consumed with social anxieties that crippled and embarrassed me.
“We should talk,” Jackson said. “About last night, when you tried to make me leave.”
Although I was just being paranoid, I felt like every set of eyes in the building were on us right now, waiting in anticipation for the humiliation to blow up in my face.
“What we
did was wrong.” I looked down at the pencil in my hand, wishing I could draw a hole on the notebook in front of me and sink through it, into another world and away from here.
“What are you talking about?” Jackson asked, and he took a seat across from me, tossing my bag out of the way. I sighed and dropped the pencil.
“Sleeping together,” I whispered urgently, and he rolled his eyes.
“You’re certainly singing a different tune than you were in bed last night,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice. Two girls who had been deep in conversation stopped and looked over at us, giving me specifically a once over before turning back to their business. I flushed and rested my head in my hand, wishing I could just disappear.
“You’re a pig,” I said.
“Grace, I enjoyed it, too,” Jackson said. “I thought it’s what you wanted. If it wasn’t, you should have told me. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, and I wish you knew that. What is it that you want?”
“I don’t know what I want.” I straightened up, gathering my books and reaching for my bag on the floor. Jackson reached out to stop me, but I yanked away from him, and he pulled back, startled.
“What in the hell is the matter?” he asked. The cocky grin I’d come to know and adore was long gone, the confusion in his eyes clear.
“I have to go,” I said, and backed away from him, ignoring the curiously judgmental stares of the girls at the table next to us.
“Please don’t leave,” Jackson said. He stood up as if to try and stop me, but I was already ahead of him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. Just leave it alone, okay?”
“Grace—”
I didn’t bother to wait around for a second later. I walked briskly from the building and headed to the bar where I knew I’d find Alex. Being home alone was not an option. I couldn’t do that, not now, not while I was so close to breaking down. I needed someone, anyone, that wasn’t Jackson.
“Girl, what on earth is the matter?” Alex asked as I walked into the bar. I hadn’t even noticed until then that tears were streaming down my face, probably smearing what little bit of makeup I’d managed to apply that morning. She stared at me intently, concerned and shocked. Ignoring the customers who were staring at me curiously, I approached the bar, trying to pull myself together. Alex came around from behind and hugged me, holding me, letting me cry into her shoulder.
“Tell me,” she insisted. “What happened? Do I need to beat somebody’s ass?” I took a rattling breath and reached up to wipe the moisture from my face.
“I slept with Jackson.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew there was no taking them back now. I hadn’t meant to say it, I hadn’t intended to say anything, but it was too late to deny it now. Alex held me by the shoulders out in front of her, and I saw her jaw drop.
“Come again?” she said.
“You heard me.”
For a moment, there was silence, and I could see Alex trying to piece things together in her head. I expected one of two things: either she would flip the hell out and scream at me for being so gullible around an asshole like Jackson Tate, or, well, she wouldn’t.
“Grace,” she said finally, and I forced myself to look at her. “Were you drunk?” she asked. I scoffed and shook my head.
“No. I was cold stone sober.”
“How did it happen?”
“He came over last night.”
“Why?”
“Because I invited him,” I sniffed. Alex grimaced.
“Of course you did.”
“I felt like it was a good idea for us to talk about his making a move on me,” I told her. “I intended to tell him off, cut him out, but . . . that didn’t work.” Alex scoffed, and no words were needed to tell me that, apparently, my escapade didn’t go as planned.
“He needed the company, I guess . . . and honestly, so did I.” I looked away from her and shook my head. “We started talking, and one thing led to another.”
“Jesus,” Alex said, and I couldn’t decipher her tone. She was still staring at me as if seeing a whole new person in place of her “vanilla” best friend.
“Go ahead,” I said finally. “Tell me what an idiot I am for taking off my pants for Jackson. Tell me that he’s a douchebag and a player and I’m just another one of his hussies. Tell me.” By now I was crying again, and I had no idea why. My eyes burned with tears, and the lump in my throat was growing by the second.
“I’m not going to say any of that,” Alex said. She surprised me by reaching down and taking my hand. “Because I don’t think any of it’s true.”
I wiped another waterfall of tears off my cheek and sniffed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think he’s always a douchebag,” she said. “And I don’t believe you were just some random girl that he fucked. I think he cares about you.”
“He doesn’t care about—”
“And you care about him, too,” she said, and her comment made me stop dead in my tracks. She’d said it before, but I hadn’t taken it seriously. This time, for some reason, it was different, no matter how much I wanted to stand there and deny it to her face.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said finally. “We’re just friends. Barely that. It was a mistake to do it, and it’s not going to happen again.”
“Okay.” Alex raised her hands in the air, surrendering. Then she reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek. “If you ask me, it may be even more than just feelings,” she said. “Much, much more.”
It was almost ten. Alex was off for the night, and I was flipping through the TV channels, hearing words but not watching. It was Halloween night, but unlike the rest of the students on campus, I had no fun plans for the evening. That was a shame because I loved Halloween. For the last couple of years, Alex and I had thrown our own little Halloween get together complete with Jell-O shots and sweet treats, but that wasn’t happening tonight . . . for more reasons than just one.
Alex was in the bathroom perfecting her makeup because her newest fling Katie was on her way over to hang out. When it came to Alex, hanging out with another gay girl usually consisted of a lot of tequila and kinky sex. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be around for it, but I had nowhere else to go. I knew I couldn’t deny Alex the opportunity to have some time for herself. Sometimes, my drama wasn’t the only production that mattered.
I was about to forfeit any semblance of a life I had and just go straight to bed when there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was Katie, I went to answer it, more than just a little bit surprised to see Shawn standing on the front steps.
“Um, hi,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Do you want to go to a Halloween party with me?” he asked. He had his hands in his pockets, looking sheepishly at me as if he’d debated all night as to whether or not bother with asking me.
“I’m not really in the mood to go out,” I said, and although I was very much used to Shawn’s perfect expression of penetrating rejection, for some reason it made me feel even worse tonight.
“You love Halloween,” he said. “Or at least, you used to.” He turned to go and for some reason that I couldn’t quite understand I called out to stop him.
“Actually,” I said. “Maybe getting out would be good for me. Where’s the party?”
“Right off campus, on 5th Street,” Shawn said, lighting up visibly. “It’s at some kid’s house ... Tyler, I think his name is.”
“Oh, God,” I rolled my eyes, apparently a little bit too hard, because Shawn looked crestfallen. Again.
“Do you know him?” he asked. Before I could answer, Alex came up behind me with a look on her face that cut me to my very soul.
“Seriously?” she said, and looked straight at me. “You’re going to go to Tyler’s party?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Would you like to come?”
“Katie is on her way,” Alex said. “And besides, you couldn’t bind and gag me long enou
gh to get me there.” She was staring at me heavily, waiting for me to change my mind, to agree with her, because let’s face it: Tyler wasn’t either of our best friends.
“Let’s go,” I said to Shawn, ignoring the look Alex gave me. “I need a drink or ten.”
Despite the party being Tyler’s, I still wanted to go. Free booze and new people might take my mind off Jackson. Anything was worth a shot, even if it did involve crashing the assholes party. And as I gathered my jacket to walk with Shawn to Tyler’s party, avoiding Alex’s disapproving gaze, deep down I knew the real reason I was going. It was a reason I wasn’t going to admit, especially not to Shawn. If Tyler was there, Jackson might be there, too, and that was motivation enough.
Chapter 48
Jackson
It was juvenile, I knew, to use alcohol to numb the feelings I had, but I didn’t see any other way to do it. It was a feeling I was getting used to, a sense of sadness and anger, loneliness and now even desperation as I sat alone in my apartment chugging the last little bit of vodka I had stashed in the freezer for such an emergency. It didn’t feel like it should be the end, but I was coming to the shitty conclusion that it was. Grace wanted nothing to do with me anymore, and I wasn’t sure that she ever did. If this is what rejection felt like, I never wanted to feel it again.
The bigger part of me wanted to keep trying. I knew she had a wall up, hiding behind a guard so big it made the Wall of China look like nothing. I wanted desperately to break that wall down. I wanted to convince her I could help, that I could be the haven in her life she never thought existed. I wanted to be there for her, to show her the world wasn’t a bad place and that she could let go just long enough to see good in the world. But I was losing hope, and it was because I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to be saved. She wanted to be left alone, and I was nearing the point of exhaustion.
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