You Deserve Better (By Your Side Series Book 2)

by A. P. Watson

  “She told you I’d say no, didn’t she?”

  He nodded, his gaze locking onto mine. “She told me a lot of things that weren’t true.”

  How was it possible for a confession to change everything and nothing at the same time? Jacks’s revelation altered my perspective of that night. I knew he wasn’t telling me this just to get me back; he was making this confession because it was true. In all the time we spent together, he was never anything less than considerate of my feelings. He only wanted me to be treated with the utmost respect and care, something he knew I’d been denied for far too long. It was easy to believe false truths about yourself when your sense of self-worth had been obliterated. Truthfully, I was tired of hiding behind the walls I’d built. But could I even let my guard down again? Such a feat would require more strength than I possessed, but in this second, it was the only thing I wanted to do.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “You have absolutely no reason to apologize. This is all my doing. It’s all my fault.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Of course.” He grabbed the handle to the door, starting to pull it shut behind him.

  “Jacks?” He stopped as soon as I uttered his name. My heart hammered away beneath my flesh as I caught his eye. “I would have said yes.”

  He nodded, trying his best to feign a smile, but the pain masking his features told a different story. And with that, he closed the door, leaving Ford and I in utter darkness.

  chapter twelve

  just an act

  MY EYELIDS FLUTTERED OPEN. Ford lay next to me, his nose nuzzled up to my face.

  “Hi there.”

  He licked my face, and I responded by kissing the side of his snout. Everything around me was still dark, so I checked my phone for the time. It was just after three in the morning. Only a few hours had passed since my argument with Terayn and Ryan. I rolled over, hoping I’d be able to fall back asleep, but an unbearable dryness enveloped my mouth. With a deep yawn, I slid out of bed and padded down the hallway in the direction of Jacks’s fridge. However, once I was a few steps away from the kitchen, I could hear a guitar playing.

  I moved silently, creeping past the dining table. Jacks sat on the couch, a guitar resting in his lap. His fingers strummed effortlessly, and I moved closer, entranced by the song he was playing. After a few more chords, I recognized the melody. It was “Ain’t No Sunshine.” I didn’t want to disturb him, and yet I was incapable of leaving because he played so beautifully. My feet carried me forward as my ears became desperate to hear more. I moved slowly, eventually perching on the couch beside him.

  His fingers stilled the second he realized I was there.

  “You play wonderfully.”

  He gave me a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.” His fingers played a few more chords before suddenly stopping again. “Are you okay?” he asked. I shook my head, staring at him. What the hell was he thinking? Okay was nowhere in the vicinity. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.” He sighed, leaning over his guitar. “What do you need me to do?”

  The question may have seemed uncomplicated, but the countless possibilities plaguing my mind begged to differ. “I hardly know.”

  “Okay,” he soothed. “Then what are you thinking?”

  His deep brown irises captured my undivided attention, and in that second, that single increment of time, I wanted to go back. “That sometimes I hate you and . . .”

  “And what?”

  “Sometimes I couldn’t hate you even if I tried.”

  “Which do you feel more?”

  “It’s not that simple and you know it.”

  “It can be.”

  I stared at him, completely incapable of remembering what my life was like before we met. “Why do you always exploit my weaknesses?”

  “Because I need to know I’m not the only vulnerable soul here,” he whispered. “Because you are the only weakness I have.”

  “Jacks.”

  “Do you have any song requests?”

  “So, you’re just going to shift the direction of the conversation we’re having? Just like that?”

  “Why not?” he asked. “It’s not like having it will change anything.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “We’re habitual avoiders.”

  I scooted closer to him. “You just confessed that I am the only weakness you have.”

  “You are.”

  “You can’t just say something—”

  He set the guitar on the floor, leaning toward me. “What would you like me to say, Wren?”

  “I want you to say what you’re thinking right now.”

  His brow furrowed as his dark eyes displayed an array of conflicting emotions. “I’m thinking about everything you had to endure tonight. About all the pain, humiliation, heartache, terror, and loneliness you’ve kept locked up inside for God knows how long. I’m thinking if you hadn’t spoken up, I would’ve smashed Henry’s face until he was breathing and eating through a tube.” The tips of his fingers caressed the line of my jaw as he moved his mouth to hover just above mine. “And I’m thinking that if I told you what I really thought every time I looked at you, I’d only push you further away than you are now.” His lips barely grazed mine, the softness of them filling me with delight. “If I move too soon, you’ll walk away and never look back.” My heart beat furiously in anticipation of our kiss. But the kiss never came. Instead, his fingers caressed my cheek one last time before retreating. I then watched as Jacks backed away, moving to the other end of the couch.

  For a while, we sat in silence, neither of us brave enough to speak. When I was falling apart earlier, he was my one source of comfort. If any other soul had attempted to alleviate my suffering, they would have failed. Jacks and I both knew pain. We felt it, lived in it, and something in my gut informed me that Kenneth had never endured such an experience.

  “Thank you,” I finally whispered.

  In the time we didn’t speak, Jacks resumed playing his guitar. He repeated the same melody from earlier, the melancholy notes hanging in the air like fog.

  “For what?”

  “Comforting me.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

  “And for defending me.”

  “Fucking prick,” he spat. “I should have stopped him sooner. I didn’t think he’d say those things to you.”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  “Don’t remind me.” His fingers stilled and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the guitar. “What did he do to you?”

  “Nothing really.”

  “Please . . . tell me. I’d rather know.”

  I sighed deeply. If I told him, would it only infuriate him more? “He cornered me when I was coming out of the bathroom and pinned me against the wall. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong. His hands began groping every inch of me while he kissed my neck. That’s when I turned the tables on him and made him think I was going to give him what he wanted. Instead, I smashed his dick with my knee like a fucking meat grinder.”

  “The balls on the fucker,” he seethed. “I mean, we were all in the next room, and he still had the nerve to force himself on you.”

  “It’s over and done with,” I replied, trying to calm him. “It’s not like you let him off easy.”

  “Feels like I did. He was able to walk out of here.”

  “His face split open like a tomato and blood sprayed across the room like some discount slasher flick.”

  He barely chuckled. “Good.”

  I moved to stand in front of him, taking his hands in mine. “How are your knuckles?”

  “A little banged up, but not too bad.”

  “Have you iced them anymore?”

  “Nah. They feel fine.”

  I rolled my eyes and made my way to the kitchen. I filled another dish towel with ice and filled a glass with water for myself before carrying both back to
the couch. Ford followed behind me, leaping onto the couch as I sat.

  “Here.” I reached for Jacks’s hand, but he pulled away.

  “I can do it.”

  “Which one of us is the nurse?”

  “My knuckles are bruised. It’s not like I have a serious injury.”

  “Your daddy sure is a stubborn ass, Ford.” As I hoped, my comment garnered a half smile from Jacks. He relinquished his hand without another word of protest. The skin covering his knuckles had bled and scabbed over. Gently, I placed the ice pack on his flesh. “I meant what I said earlier. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His hand squeezed mine. “If you ever need anything from me, you know I’ll always be here for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever think about what we’d be doing right now if everything at Everest had never happened?” he asked.

  “All the time.”

  “Me too.”

  “Thinking about what could’ve been used to keep me up at night. But in all honesty, we both know what we’d be doing right now.” Every ounce of air seemed to evaporate from the room. Suddenly realizing the gravity of my words, I gasped and bit my bottom lip so hard I nearly drew blood.

  Jacks exhaled slowly. “You will be the death of me.”

  “Funny how some things change, and others stay the same.”

  “It’s always a relief to know you find such pleasure in my distress.”

  “Ass,” I muttered with as much sass as I could, adjusting the ice pack I held.

  Finally, I was rewarded with a genuine smile. “You can stay here as long as you need to.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate that. Especially seeing as how I’m homeless right now.”

  “You’re not homeless.”

  “No, at the moment, I’m living in an apartment that must have cost a small fortune,” I teased.

  “I mean it does have everything you could ever want. Excellent view, fireplace, fully stocked kitchen, a well-behaved dog.”

  “Guitar-playing landlord.”

  “Exactly. What more could you want?”

  “A snack?”

  Jacks laughed, helping me stand. “You would be hungry.”

  “I can’t help it if I have a fast metabolism. Besides, you’re the one who could stand to put on a few pounds.”

  He shook his head, opening the fridge. “And now you sound like my grandfather.”

  “What? I can’t be concerned for you?”

  Jacks shoved three pieces of leftover sushi in his mouth and swallowed. “Happy now?”

  “Nope. Keep eating.”

  We set out a spread of food on the coffee table and watched some episodes of The X-Files. Ford curled up in my lap, and I ran my fingers through his silky coat. We’d barely made it through one episode when my mind was having trouble focusing. I kept thinking about a comment Terayn had made before the party. She acted like it would only be natural for Ford to like me over Jacks, which didn’t make any sense. Jacks was Ford’s owner. There was absolutely no reason for her to believe the dog would prefer me over Jacks, and yet, the way they both reacted to her comment definitely piqued my curiosity.

  “Can I ask you something?” I continued to stroke Ford’s coat while I waited for Jacks to answer me.

  “Of course,” he replied, his eyes still glued to the television screen.

  “Earlier, before the party, Ter made a comment about it being no wonder that Ford liked me more than you. What was she talking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You realize I know there is more to the story than that, right?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, sighing heavily.

  “You can tell me.”

  Reluctantly, he paused the show, his hand tightly gripping the remote control. “Sometimes that’s easier said than done.”

  “Jacks—”

  “I bought him for you.” He blurted out the words suddenly, and it took me a second to comprehend what he’d said.

  “What?”

  “I know it was in passing, but you mentioned wanting a dog a couple of different times. So, I did some searching and found Ford had been left at an animal shelter in town. I paid for all his shots and stuff a few days before the party at Everest . . . Then, I picked him up the following week.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, Ford was supposed to be my dog?”

  “Yeah.” Jacks rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze faltering. “Sorry. I know that has to be weird for you to hear.”

  “It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Talking about it now makes me feel insane, but it was all part of this plan I had. Adopt a dog and ask you to move to New York with me. Who would possibly turn down an offer like that?” He laughed, shaking his head. “What the fuck was I thinking, right?”

  “It wouldn’t have seemed so crazy then,” I replied softly. “Besides, ‘what the fuck was I thinking’ has been the theme of my entire life.”

  “That makes two of us then.”

  I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. “Some pair we are.”

  “Some pair.”

  “Well, I think I’m going to lie down again. I’m still pretty tired.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  I whistled for Ford, watching as he trailed behind me. As soon as we were within the safety of the guest bedroom, I closed the door and leaned against it. David had been right. There was more to the story than I ever imagined. For months, I had been so angry with Jacks. I had been furious and heartbroken that he had still entertained the idea of being with Elise after the way we had held one another. There’s a difference between knowing when someone is out of your league and seeing firsthand proof.

  But all the plans he had in place for us? The effort and consideration he had put into planning for New York was shocking. He was going to move, but he had every intention of taking me with him. He had wanted us to be together, and that kind of vision can’t be faked. As much as I hurt, and as much as I felt I’d been deceived, Jacks wasn’t a lying, cheating bastard. He was afraid of history repeating itself. And in a moment of weakness, he actually believed Elise and the doubt she planted in his mind. When your trust has been broken, it’s hard to give it away again. Jacks had trusted Elise with his heart and she had betrayed him. I suppose in a way, it was only natural he had expected me to do the same.

  The next lucid thought I had was of how loud my phone was. It blared next to my eardrums, thrusting me from the pull of sleep. Ter was livid, so there was no way she’d be calling me so soon. My hand patted the bed in search for the device, and I answered quickly after finding it, hoping the god-awful noise would stop.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  My brain was slow to respond today, and it took me a minute to recognize the voice. Immediately, my eyes popped open.

  “Kenneth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after three.”

  I rolled over, but Ford was gone. Jacks must have gotten up and taken him for a walk already. “In the afternoon?”

  “Yes, did you just wake up or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Man, how hard did you guys party last night?”

  “A lot harder than we expected.”

  “Sounds like a good time.”

  “It was definitely memorable,” I replied, cringing. Neither Henry offering me three hundred dollars for a blow job nor the sound of his jaw breaking when Jacks laid into him were things I’d be forgetting anytime soon. “What are you up to?” My question was a much-needed interruption to my current train of thought.

  “I’m at the airport. Waiting to fly back from Ohio.”

  “Did you have a good time with your family?”

  “Yeah. My mom loved having all of us home for the weekend.”

  “I bet she did
. It’s always nice to see family, and I’m glad y’all had a good time.”

  “I was originally going to see if you wanted to come over tonight, but it sounds like you still need to recover from last night,” he stated.

  I sat up, tossing the comforter off my legs and stumbling toward the bathroom. I would never be a morning, or more specifically, an afternoon person. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. It was a really long night. Not to mention, we had at least twenty different types of alcohol there.”

  “Damn. Well, how about we watch a movie at my place tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Get some rest, and I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I hung up and immediately started the shower. Standing under a stream of water was the only thing that would help the emotional hangover I had. Well, that and whiskey. Although, sometimes, whiskey seemed to cause more problems than it solved.

  I scrubbed my hair and body before hopping out of the shower and drying off. The only comfortable clothes I had were the ones Jacks had lent me, so I threw those back on and rifled through my purse for the travel brush I kept stashed in there.

  Thank goodness I had packed some makeup products for touch-ups last night. The puffiness under my eyelids sure wasn’t doing me any favors. Using the spare hair dryer Jacks kept under the sink, I dried and brushed my long locks before applying a little makeup. A dab of concealer, blush, and mascara would hopefully prevent me from resembling the living dead. When I finished, I emerged from the guest bedroom, immediately heading toward the kitchen.

  Jacks sat at the dining room table. His laptop was open in front of him, and even though it looked like he was typing something up for work, he wore a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt.

  “Hey,” he said, glancing up from the computer screen. “Did you sleep okay?”