You Are My Hope (You Are Mine Book 2)

by W. Winters

  “You were only Jules to me. Only a woman who was hurt and broken.” His words hang in the air between us and my conviction sways. Mason hesitates then adds, “I knew your pain was because of what I’d done. I knew it was my fault, and I wanted to make it better.”

  My lips part with disbelief. “Make it better?”

  “I don’t know what to say, Jules.” He lets his hands fall to the bed beside me, his fingers resting against my thigh. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” I’m certain of that at least. I stare at the comforter and avoid the hurt look in his eyes. He has no right to be saddened or angered. He has no right to expect anything from me. He’s the one who put all of this into motion. He could have stopped it.

  “There is more to say. And in time you’ll want to know more.”

  My shoulders rise with a heavy breath. I know it’s true. I need to know if my husband did have a woman murdered. How could he? Mason must be wrong.

  I just can’t imagine it. I can’t believe I was married to a man who would have someone killed. He was living with me, sharing my bed and kissing me every morning. I can’t see it. What’s worse, I don’t want to see it. Just like I didn’t want to see the other lies that came out after he died. I didn't know the man I once loved. I look up into Mason’s gray eyes and I don’t know which man that thought was for. Jace or Mason.

  I suppose both.

  “I just want to go home,” I tell Mason one last time. One last plea.

  “No, you’re staying here. Don’t try to run, Jules,” he tells me and his voice is so low. He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. “I would kill for you. I’d die for you. I love you.”

  His words send a chill through me, not because of the intensity, but because I feel with everything in me that each word is utterly and completely true.

  Mason

  I can’t fucking stand this. Every time she passes me, every time I look at her there’s a look in her eyes that warns me to stay away. To not touch her, to not approach her, to not say a damn word to her.

  I’m the same man I was when I slipped that ring around her finger. The one that lays in the drawer of my nightstand now. The one I picked up off the floor when she left me. I figured it’d be better to hide it from her than give it back and risk her flushing it.

  With the ring between two of my fingers, I twist it back and forth, the cushion-cut diamond moving from side to side with moonlight glinting off it as it pours in through the gap in the curtains. I turn my gaze to the window, knowing just beyond the thick velvet fabric is a ripped screen that still needs to be replaced.

  This bedroom has become a cage. A prison of her own making. I’ve given her time. I’ve been gentle, given her space, but it’s only pissing me off when she glares at me. She’s a stubborn woman and I understand her needs, but it feels like I’m slowly snapping, not bending.

  It’s time for a change. I don’t know how long it takes to mourn or forgive, but I also don’t give a fuck. There’s too much on my mind for me to be worried about where we are with each other. I need her. More importantly, I need to know she won’t run so I can keep her safe.

  I can’t have anyone else questioning it either. They need to be very aware that we’re still in love. Every. Single. Person.

  With a particular person in mind, I glance at the phone on my nightstand. My father isn’t answering my calls.

  I’m tempted to go to his office to make sure he backs off, but that means either leaving Jules alone or taking her with me. Between those two options of course I’d be bringing her along, but I don’t want him anywhere near her. Just walking into the station, knowing he was with her, toying with her, and hearing him threaten her was almost too much for me. I take in a heavy breath, staring at the diamond to calm myself again.

  He has one more chance. One meeting on Saturday to treat her the way she deserves and apologize for what happened at the station. She’s everything to me, and I won’t let him frighten her. It’s bad enough as it is. Otherwise… I’ll have no choice but to kill him. My plan at this charity, the only plan I have, is to make that promise very clear to my father.

  We’re in the eye of the storm, I know it. Chaos is lurking in the shadows surrounding us, and I need my sweetheart by my side. I need her clinging to me and letting me protect her.

  Right now, with her on the other side of the bed, she’s hardly speaking to me let alone capable of trusting me. I can’t sleep at night until she does, because I don’t trust her either, and it’s a battle of wills. Neither of us sleeping, neither of us giving an inch. And that’s exactly what will happen tonight if I don’t do something.

  The diamond sparkles brilliantly, the light shining from one facet to the other.

  This belongs on her fucking finger.

  I stand abruptly, wanting nothing more than to tell her it’s never parting from her again. But the moment I see her, she’s running her fingers along her wrists. At the faint bruises and small cuts left from when I tied her up days ago.

  My anger leaves slowly, like a leak, leaving me empty and hollow with regret.

  “I can’t take it back.” I clear my throat and give her the words as they come to me. “You need to stop this, Jules. We can’t continue like this.”

  Her posture changes, the bed creaking along with the slow movements as she grips the comforter and pulls it closer to her. Her expression shifts, and she’s not pretending anymore. She’s not hiding her anger; she glares at me, leaning forward. It thrills me. Give me that anger, sweetheart. Fight me, slam your fists into my chest, take it out on me. I’ll show you I can take it. I can let you get it all out and then soothe it away and fuck you so hard and so thoroughly you won't remember a damn thing except for how much you love my cock inside of you.

  “Did you like it?” I ask her as my dick twitches with the need to push her and make her angrier.

  A moment passes and she simply stares at me, refusing to answer.

  “Did you like it when I tied you up?” I ask and this time, she can’t ignore my question.

  “Fuck you,” she says, jumping off the bed and making her way toward the door to leave me again. She’s not fucking leaving me, though. I’m quicker than her and she knows it. I slam the door shut before she can walk through. With both my palms above her pressed firmly against the door, I cage her in with my arms as she spins to face me with a gasp of shock. My arms are long and her body’s small, so there's still nearly a foot of space between us, but it feels as if we’re closer than we’ve been in so long.

  Because it’s real. This tension and this moment are more real than the lifeless days we’ve spent together living like ghosts of ourselves since I told her she wasn’t leaving.

  She slowly takes an inch forward, waiting for me to stop her from leaving, but I don’t. By this point, she should know I’m not going to hurt her. I meant what I said. I will never hurt her.

  “Just forget it all, Jules.” She tries to walk around me and under my arm, ignoring me and I can’t stand it. My forearms press against the door and close the space between us, trapping her there and forcing her to talk to me.

  “What do you want from me?” she screams out, her lips close to mine and her anger tangible.

  “Forgiveness,” I answer lowly, but with a rawness I pray she can feel.

  “I can’t forgive you.”

  “I had to do it.”

  Her brow pinches and she looks like she’s going to argue, but she stays silent, biting her tongue and attempting to go back to the version of her I’ve dealt with for days. She stares at anything except me, as if ignoring me will free her from this moment.

  I’m not going to let her get off that easy. She has to say something; I need to force her to confront me, because I know she won’t say something on her own. “You have to get over it.”

  “Never,” she says, finally looking back at me and staring me in the eyes. “You’re a monster.”

  “Is that what yo
u want?” I ask her as I take a half step forward to force her back against the door, both of my hands pinning her hips in place. “For me to turn into some kind of monster so you can justify hating me?” My grip’s not so strong that it hurts her, but it’s forceful enough to get her attention. Her head comes forward and I crash my lips against hers, stealing a quick kiss before she can move away. I move my lips to her ear, pinning her whole body against the wall as my right hand travels up her side while my left grips the hair at the nape of her neck. She’s trapped.

  “There’s a difference between what you’ve been thinking I’d do and what I’ve really been doing, sweetheart.” I speak just above a murmur. My breathing picks up along with hers, and her nails dig into the shirt on my chest. She’s not pushing me away; she’s holding me right where I am. I’m just as close to her as I wanted to be.

  “You think I’m a bad man in that pretty little head of yours, but you fell in love with me. With the real me and there’s no hiding from that.” I run the tip of my nose from her cheek to her temple, breathing in her scent. Her small body is so hot against mine. Her rapid pants only aid in making me hard as fuck for her.

  “I’ll never stop loving you.” I speak so low, I’m not sure she hears. I open my eyes and stare at the wall, realizing how fucked up this is, aching over it, but unable to let her go. I’m too afraid of losing her forever. I won’t let it happen.

  “Just do it, Mason.” Jules nearly chokes on her words, and I have to look down into her eyes to see the defiance there. She’s pushing me. She knows I’ll never hurt her. It’s so fucking obvious, and the realization makes me smile slightly.

  “Do what?” I ask.

  “Whatever you want with me,” she says, although her gaze drops to my chest with nothing but defeat in her eyes. “Or let your father kill me.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “You won’t let me leave,” is the only answer she gives me.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” My heart pounds in protest at the question: Would she really rather die than love me again?

  Jules looks away, turning her head to the side even as I grip her nape tighter. I pull back slightly, forcing her to look at me.

  “That would make it easy for you, wouldn’t it?” I ask, hearing my own voice crack. I nip her earlobe with my teeth and wait a moment for her to answer, but all I can hear is the combined sound of our heavy breathing. “It would be so easy to hate me if I were the monster you want to believe I am.” I struggle with how true my words are. “If I wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but I am.”

  I kiss the side of her neck, my fingers trailing along her skin and pulling her sleep shirt up slowly. My body’s so close to hers but I don’t touch her, because I want her to feel my absence. I want her to crave how I make her feel.

  I trail the words down her neck, whispering against her skin. “All I want is for you to remember how much I love you and how much you love me.”

  I want her to beg for my touch again, just like she did when we first met. I know she will. She needs me just as much as I need her. “Give me one month.” I speak without thinking, desperate for a change between us. “One month of just pretending. Of trying to forget or forgive and going back to what we once had.”

  She peers up at me with a brightness in her eyes, but they narrow with distrust. I add, “If you hate me still at the end of the month, I’ll let you go.” I can barely speak the pained words, but I push out the offering.

  My heart beats hard in my chest, knowing it’s a lie. But it’s something she can hold on to. It’s a deal with the devil for her, and I’m sure she knows it.

  She doesn’t reply, and I couldn’t give a fuck so long as tomorrow things have changed for us.

  My strides are heavy as I leave her to grab the ring from where it lays, once again on the floor. She stares at it rather than at me when I take her hand. “I’m the same man I was when I first put this ring on your finger.” I slide the diamond on her ring finger and hold it there, waiting for her eyes to reach mine.

  I lean in and breathe in her scent, closing my eyes and forcing myself to let go of her. “Don’t take it off, Jules. That ring will stay on your finger.” I watch as her eyes close and her chest rises. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Jules

  The mind plays tricks,

  It likes to deceive.

  What once brought you joy,

  Will now make you grieve.

  What to think, what to do,

  When there’s no easy way out.

  When your heart’s torn and broken,

  And all you know is doubt.

  I wish a hot shower could wash it all away. As if the steam and heat could cleanse the burden of knowing what Mason did nearly a year ago. So long ago, when we were both two different people. When we were both strangers to each other.

  I don’t know what to think, and I don’t know how to react or which emotion is coming through the strongest. It makes me feel crazy. It’s like the sway of the ocean. As soon as one wave comes and crashes over me, another is already waiting to drown me. It’s making me weak.

  It’s late, but I don’t want to sleep.

  I move to my dresser and sift through the nightgowns mindlessly, remembering how even last night, I questioned if I should refuse him. When Mason laid his arm across my belly, turning on his side to be closer to me, I hesitated before asking him to move and let me be like I have been. It comes down to one truth: I wanted him to take the pain away. The pain he caused. Only him. He’s responsible for it all. Just the same, only he could take it away.

  Glancing down in the drawer I trail my fingers across a nightgown; it’s all silk and fine lace. Tempting, luxurious and expensive. I bought new lingerie a few weeks back, for Mason of course. The shine of the navy blue silk catches my eye, but I can’t bring myself to pick it up.

  I don’t want to tempt him anymore. I don’t want to try to look beautiful for him. My heart aches with a pain that feels as if it will strangle the life from me. I wish Mason were done with me, because I already feel myself needing his touch again.

  It makes me feel pathetic, but what choice do I have? I have no one and nothing, and I’ve been forced into a corner I can’t escape.

  I shut my mouth tightly, gritting my teeth as I ball up the silk gown’s matching thong in my hand and slam the drawer closed.

  He’s not a good man. He planned my husband’s murder in cold blood.

  But he’s damn good to me in ways my husband wasn’t. If what he said was true... I take in a ragged breath before sitting on the edge of the bed, still only covered by the towel from my shower. The mattress groans as my eyes close and I lean back, collapsing on the bed.

  A thought has taken over, one I least expected. I’m still angry with Jace and the more I want to believe Mason, the more I think Jace really did it. He had a woman killed.

  How could I not have known what kind of man Jace was? I already know he lied to me, that he stole from me. I have evidence of that from bank account statements and the deed to the apartment he took his mistress to. Or mistresses. I’ll never know.

  If you’ll lie, you’ll cheat. If you’ll cheat, you’ll steal. If you’ll steal, you’ll kill.

  I know for a fact Jace did two of those things. Three, technically, since he used my money and not his to buy that property.

  I’m disgusted in every way possible. What’s worse is that if Jace hadn’t passed, maybe I never would have known. We’d still be together and I’d still be living a lie, completely blind to it all. Utterly naïve.

  The reality is sickening. I do believe Mason. I believe my husband had a woman killed. But that doesn’t mean moving forward I choose to be with a murderer. How could I ever trust Mason again? How could I ever look at him the same?

  If only the shower could rinse it all away. Or a pill could erase my memory.

  But then I’d be back to the life I once had, not knowing a thing about the lies and corruption, all the sins
I’ve been blind to.

  Defeated but still moving forward, I mumble, “To hell with going back to that.” I stretch my back as I stand up, knowing I need to get dressed for bed before Mason barges in here. I don’t have the luxury of being lost in my thoughts.

  One month, and then what? It’s pointless to truly consider the question because I don’t believe Mason will let me go. Besides, what would I do if in one month he lets me walk out the door?

  I pretend that I don’t know how that scenario plays out. I go back to being alone, but never trust anyone again? That’s really what hurts the most, the lies and secrets make me feel as though no one is truthful. The two men I gave everything I ever had to turned out to be liars and murderers. I huff a pathetic and humorless laugh.

  My girlfriends were right, I really do pick winners.

  I’m only able to take two steps to the bathroom door before hearing the door at the end of the hall open. I stare at my closed door, waiting for Mason to enter, but then I hear another door open and shut only a moment later with a click that echoes down the hall.

  My forehead pinches with confusion as I hear it again. It’s as if someone is checking inside of each room in the hallway. I almost call out to tell Mason that I’m in here and I’m not hiding, but something eerie stops me. A chill I’ve never felt before, like a grave warning from someone or something watching over me, runs down every inch of my skin and my heart races with sudden fear.

  Another door opens, then closes. And this last one was closer.

  All I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest as I get down on my knees as quietly as I can and crawl under the bed. Something’s wrong. I hear the door next to the master bedroom close as I try to turn onto my side, but I can’t. I’m stuck, wedged between the floor and the bed frame, but it’s enough. My heart beats wildly and I try to convince myself it’s just Mason and I’m being stupidly foolish again. Keeping as still as possible, I watch the door only six feet or so away, the light from the hallway faintly pouring in through the crack and shining against the gleaming hardwood.