Wrong to Need You

by Alisha Rai

  “Because why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Her hand tightened, an involuntary reflex. “Like a friend,” she said faintly.

  “No. More than a friend. Paul wasn’t dumb, he knew I’d do anything for you. I’ve always loved you, from the moment I saw you on that playground, wearing that rose red dress. I always will.”

  There was no air left for her. It was all gone, grabbed away. Her lungs worked. Her gaze drifted to his new rose tattoo.

  The silence in the room stretched between them, absorbing every soughing breath she took. “What—always?”

  “Always.”

  There was no room to misinterpret his words or think he was kidding. This was real. He really had always loved her, romantically.

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her brain was scrambled. Even as she tried to come up with something, anything, she watched Jackson shut down. First it was his eyes, shuttering, then his lips tightening. Finally, he rose from the bed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll go.”

  “Wait.” He paused, but she could only shake her head. “I need some time.”

  He nodded. She thought he understand what she was asking of him—hold her, comfort her, let her work this out and they could talk—but instead, he grabbed his shirt and shoes from the floor and walked soundlessly out the door. Leaving her absolutely alone with all the ghosts of her past.

  Chapter 19

  Jackson blinked open his eyes to a whistled tune he couldn’t identify. Waking up was never difficult for him. He’d spent enough time in enough bedrooms all over the world that he’d lost the sensation of disorientation most people suffered.

  Today, though, he stared up at the white ceiling, taking a second to get his bearings. His eyes were crusty, tired from a lack of sleep. He craved both coffee and a cigarette.

  The latter craving he’d ignore, but he could probably bum the former. He rose up on his elbows and peered over the back of the sofa. Nicholas was standing in front of the round mirror in the living room, adjusting his tie. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Nicholas jerked, spinning around. “Jesus fucking Christ. Jackson. What the fuck?”

  “You kiss my sister with that mouth?” Jackson scrubbed his hand over his face. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to come here in the middle of the night. He’d left Sadia’s and gone to O’Killian’s and had a couple of beers, which was more than enough to get him drunk. He didn’t even remember giving the taxi driver this address.

  “I do, indeed,” Nicholas said grimly. “What did I tell you about breaking into my house?”

  “Then stop making it so damn easy.” Jackson vaguely recalled picking the lock and peering at the alarm panel. “Your mother’s birthday this time? I told you to change it from Livvy’s to something harder to guess.”

  “I kept forgetting the random numbers.”

  Jackson sighed. “If you have Livvy staying here, I need you to take better care of your security.” Nicholas’s eyes narrowed and Jackson swung his legs over the side of the couch, coming to his feet. He was spoiling for a fight. Maybe that was why his subconscious had led him to Nicholas’s place in the wee hours of the morning.

  “Jackson? What are you doing here?”

  He shifted his gaze to the arched opening to the room, his aggression vanishing. Livvy was wearing loose gym shorts and a boat-necked T-shirt, no makeup, her blue hair loose. She looked like a teenager, not a fully grown woman of thirty.

  He slipped his hands inside his pockets, but couldn’t speak. What could he say? There was no excuse for him to have come inside Nicholas’s place last night, except Livvy’s car had been parked outside.

  He needed his sister.

  He wasn’t accustomed to needing anyone, and Livvy had always needed him, not the opposite. People had always looked at his big, hulking body, his capable hands, and assumed he was more than self-sufficient.

  And he was. Except in this. His heart was bruised and battered.

  Her face softened as the silence stretched and she spoke to Nicholas. “Nico, why don’t you make us some coffee?”

  “Livvy, I won’t have your brother breaking in whenever he feels like it.”

  “It’s not like he’s making a habit of breaking in.”

  He and Nicholas exchanged a look, and Jackson waited for Nicholas to out him, but the other man only grunted and exited the room, his feet stomping slightly louder than necessary.

  Livvy walked over and grasped his arm. “Sit down.”

  “Your boyfriend is right. I shouldn’t be here.”

  “I think you’re exactly where you need to be,” Livvy said firmly, and tugged at his arm. “Now sit down.”

  He allowed her to push him down onto the couch. “I wasn’t certain if you’d be here or not.”

  Livvy made a face. “Mom’s still not keen on Nicholas and me. We had a bit of an argument after dinner, and I came here.”

  He couldn’t imagine his mother was super on board with Livvy and Nicholas hooking up. Forget the fact that Nicholas’s father had taken over the company. His mother had died with her husband. Seeing Nicholas’s face couldn’t be easy for her.

  “She’s going to come around,” Livvy continued with more optimism than he could handle without coffee. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Don’t expect us all to sit down for dinner anytime soon,” he warned Livvy.

  Her gaze drifted away, and he knew she’d been imagining exactly that. “Livvy—”

  “I know! I’m a marshmallow.” She glared at him. “Don’t remind me.”

  “You and Nicholas went away and worked through your issues. It’s going to take everyone else some time.”

  “And some people may never come around, I know,” she said quietly, and he knew she was thinking of Nicholas’s father. She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Enough about me. What’s up with you?”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I told Sadia I loved her last night and she didn’t say anything back.” As the words fell from his lips, a part of him stood apart, horrified.

  He was naked, vulnerable. But Livvy didn’t look alarmed or confused or surprised. She pursed her lips. “Ah.”

  He linked his hands together between his knees. “Actually, I said a lot before that too.”

  “Tell me.”

  He was so tired. “Paul set the fire at the C&O.”

  She blanched, but she didn’t look totally surprised. “I wondered,” she murmured. “People were always confusing you and him. It wouldn’t have been absurd for a witness to have mistaken him for you.”

  He had also been the more believable villain. Paul had been loved by the town, the future heir to the family fortune. No one had wanted it to be him. “Yeah.”

  “He asked you to go with the police, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. He said there was no real evidence against me.” He left out their mother’s role in persuading him. “And when I was still on the fence, he told me Sadia was pregnant.”

  Livvy drew back. “Uh, she was not pregnant back then.”

  “I know. He lied. When I got out, he told me, and we had a massive fight.” He glanced up at her. “He was scared I’d tell everyone he did it. I was scared he’d tell Sadia the truth. I was ashamed, too, that he knew I was in love with her. I’d been so careful not to let her see.”

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Why were you so careful not to let her know how you felt about her back then?”

  “Because she was with Paul.”

  “Not always,” Livvy pointed out. “You were friends with her way before Paul fell for her.”

  “I was . . . I don’t know.” He thought about it. “I guess I was scared. I told myself later I was only saving her the burden of knowing, but it was also for me.” He wouldn’t have to face the consequence of rejection if he never tried.

  Can’t or won’t.

  He curled his hands into fists, recognizing the truth. He had been scared. He’d alw
ays been scared. “I’ve tried not to care for anyone. It gets me into trouble.”

  “No. Caring for people isn’t what gets you into trouble. You’re, like, super good at caring for people.” She placed her hands over his. “I can testify to that. The problem is, you’re a marshmallow.”

  His lips curved up. “You’re the marshmallow.”

  “Yup,” she said cheerfully. “We are a package of two marshmallows. Someone pokes at you, and you feel it, don’t you? You dent and bruise.”

  “I don’t understand where you’re going with this analogy.”

  Her smile faded. “I’m saying Paul hurt you by lying to you. He used your love for Sadia against you, and that was cruel and mean, and it sucks that you can’t yell at him. He dented you hard, and you ran to protect yourself. But marshmallows spring back, and I think that’s what you’ve been trying to do, coming back here. You’ve been trying to regain your shape.”

  He released a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I think there’s a difference in not caring for anyone and being careful in who you love. Sadia isn’t Paul. I’m not Paul.” She paused. “And as many problems as I had with the guy, Jackson, I don’t think the Paul who died on that trail was the Paul who hurt you.”

  Jackson thought about that letter Paul had sent to John, confessing his sins. I love my brother. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

  “It’s hard to make your peace with someone who isn’t around anymore. Or more accurately, to make your peace with never making your peace.” She smiled sadly. “But sometimes it’s the only thing you can do.”

  A scrape from the doorway had them both looking up. Nicholas was watching them, his lips pressed tight together, two mugs in his hands.

  Shit. How much had the man heard?

  Livvy had stiffened next to him as well. Nicholas walked over and handed him a mug, and then handed Livvy hers. She looked up at him, and he cupped her cheek. Then he glanced between the two of them. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to propose that what was said here never gets repeated again. Not outside the family, at least. As far as I’m concerned, and my statement if anyone asks, is that Jackson was totally innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  Livvy closed her eyes, and then opened them again. Nicholas wiped her tear away. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The look Nicholas gave Livvy was so tender and filled with love, Jackson had to find something else in the room to study. “Don’t thank me,” Nicholas said. “I cared about Paul, too, and there’s no need to poke that hornet’s nest again. The only ones who would pay for it are you and Kareem and Sadia.” Nicholas turned to Jackson, and this time his expression was stern. “Jackson, I know you don’t like me, but speaking of Sadia, I’d really advise you to get your shit together and go talk to her.”

  “But—”

  “She found out she was one of the reasons you went to jail, discovered her husband committed arson, you told her you loved her, and then you walked out when she didn’t reciprocate fast enough. Is that right?”

  Fuck. When he put it like that, the night sounded worse than he’d even thought. “I—”

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to you or your brother. She was understandably upset yesterday. Give her some room, then make your case as to why she should give you the time of day.”

  “Just like a Chandler,” Livvy said affectionately. “Bossy as hell.”

  Nicholas smiled, and it was supremely un-robot-like. “Just like a Kane,” he returned. “Giving me hell.”

  “I can’t handle this foreplay,” Jackson muttered, and rose to his feet. He looked Nicholas in the eye and stuck out his hand. “Maybe you’re not all bad.”

  “High praise.” Nicholas accepted his offer. “Sorry I thought you were a felon.”

  “I understand.” And he really did.

  “Do me a favor, though,” Nicholas added. “Please stop breaking into my home?”

  Chapter 20

  Sadia cracked an eye open when she heard the feminine voices coming down the hall toward her bedroom, but even that was too difficult, so she closed them. Her eyes were crusty and hurt. She was exhausted but hadn’t slept.

  Her son snuggled closer against her side. It was Saturday, which she hadn’t realized until Kareem had come tumbling into her bed a few hours ago, telling her Ayesha had already left the house. She’d forgotten her sister had slept over, too.

  Sadia had handed Kareem her phone, and he’d been well occupied watching videos and playing games. She needed to feed him and get dressed and check in on the café, where hopefully Lucy had showed up to cook like she was scheduled. She didn’t know if Jackson would be there or if he’d left town already. Maybe after she’d stumbled out of his apartment and gone to her home to cry soundlessly in her shower, he’d come back and packed his things up to leave.

  I love you.

  She screwed her eyes tighter, as if that could block out everything that had happened last night.

  “Sadia? Are you still in bed?”

  She opened her crusty eyes to find all four of her sisters filing into her room, carrying large garment bags. Weird.

  Kareem looked up from his video for a split second. “Hey, aunties.”

  “What are you all doing here?” Her voice was hoarse, and she must have sounded worse than she looked, because they exchanged silent looks.

  “You told us to come here in the morning so we could make sure everything would run smoothly for the party tonight, remember?” Zara’s words were slow and measured. “You sent us lists.”

  Fuck. Her parent’s anniversary party. She didn’t want to go or organize anything or even think about moving today.

  What will people say?

  What did it matter?

  Noor hustled over and laid a hand on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Are you sick? You’re never in bed this late.”

  Sadia listlessly shook her head.

  Her sister’s gaze drifted over the wooden box on the empty pillow next to Sadia’s. She picked it up. Sadia couldn’t work up the energy to stop her.

  Noor stared down at the rings and Paul’s photo for a long minute before snapping the lid shut. Sadia flinched from what she saw in her sister’s expression.

  Pity.

  Noor rallied. “Ayesha, can you please take Kareem to get cleaned up and ready?”

  “He hasn’t eaten yet,” Sadia managed.

  “I’m not hungry,” Kareem interjected, his gaze locked on her phone.

  “We’ll see if we can find you something,” Ayesha said brightly.

  Sadia’s arms felt empty when Kareem scrambled away, taking her phone with him. It was fine. She didn’t need it today. Their schedule was already fucked.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to block out her remaining sisters. Perhaps if she couldn’t see them, they would leave her in peace.

  That was a silly hope. The mattress shifted as the three of them took places, one on either side of her, one by her leg.

  A small, smooth hand stroked over her brow. Zara. “Sadia, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Jia’s fingers snuck into hers and tightened. “It doesn’t look like nothing’s wrong.”

  “Kareem—”

  “Kareem’s fine,” Noor said, and her touch came on her shoulder. “Ayesha will take care of him.”

  A tear snuck out from the corner of her eye. “I can’t believe I didn’t feed him breakfast.”

  “A child missing one meal is not the end of the world. Or a reflection of your parenting.” Zara’s soothing strokes continued. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t tell them. There was no way she would be able to ever let anyone know about Paul and the fire and Jackson, not even her family. She rolled her head to look at perfect, pristine Noor.

  Sadia wasn’t perfect, and she was so exhausted. She wanted to smear herself in front of them as much as she was able, to destroy whatever image they had in their heads ab
out her. “Jackson loves me,” she said flatly.

  Noor raised her eyebrows. “Your brother-in-law?”

  “Yes.”

  “Love loves you?”

  “Yes. He came home, I had an affair with him, and he told me he’s in love with me.”

  “My.” Noor pursed her lips. “You do have a type.”

  “Noor,” Zara snapped, but her tone softened when Sadia looked at her. “That’s okay, Sadia. Grief sometimes makes you act out and—”

  “It’s not grief. What I did with Jackson had nothing to do with grief. I slept with him because I wanted him.” She studied them, but none of them looked particularly shocked.

  “But you don’t love him back?” Jia asked.

  Sadia hesitated, confused by their lack of scandalized horror. She’d slept with her former brother-in-law, and they were all looking at her like that was a perfectly normal thing for her to do. “It doesn’t matter whether I love him, or not. I can’t have a relationship with him.”

  Noor cocked her head. “Why not?”

  Don’t say it. It wasn’t worth it to get into all of this. She should climb out of bed and end this therapy session. “Because I’d fail. I’m a failure,” she blurted out.

  Jia screwed up her face. “What?”

  Noor drew up tall. “No.”

  “Why do you think that?” Zara questioned.

  Another tear leaked out. “My marriage failed.”

  “Your husband died, love.” Zara’s voice was very gentle. “That’s not your failure.”

  “No.” She hated this, but she couldn’t stop now. “It failed before he died. We were going to get a divorce. That was why he went alone. Otherwise I would have been on that trail with him . . .” She stopped talking, eyes widening. Oh, god. She hadn’t realized how her brain had linked the two of those things. “He wouldn’t have died,” she finished in a whisper, her tears coming in earnest. “Kareem would have his father. I’m the reason . . . oh god, I’m the reason he doesn’t.”

  “Oh, no.” Zara shifted, gathering her close as she started to sob. “No, my love. That’s not true at all.”

  She pressed her hand against her chest, praying that familiar tightening would stay away. She couldn’t handle a panic attack right now, not on top of this emotional destruction. She took Zara’s comfort, absorbed Noor’s careful pats on her back, took strength from Jia’s murmured crooning.