I flinch.
“You popping pills?” he asks. “Are you a pill popper? Is that something else I didn’t know?”
I don’t say anything, but I don’t look away. He can rip me apart right now, and I’ll stand here and take it like the woman I am.
I will hold my chin up, even though my heart is dragging me down.
Because I deserve every bit of punishment he can give.
“Why?” Jace asks. “Why did you do this?”
I lean my head back and shake it. “Does it matter?” I ask, hopeless.
“What?” he spits, anger smothering him.
Sadness twines around my soul, constricting.
My jaw locks. I can’t talk. I can’t do anything.
“Answer me, goddammit,” he says, picking up the side table and throwing it across the room. It punctures a hole in the wall, and I cover my mouth as papers fly out of the drawer. Almost in slow motion, they drift in the air, floating in different directions as they descend to the floor.
Chloe.
Everything I have on her case is now exposed for him to see.
Everything about me is now ripped open for him to judge.
Here I am, Jace.
Here’s me in all my beautiful glory.
He looks to the papers falling around the room, which is painted in warm gold from the glow of the lamp. He reaches down and picks one up, scanning over it before his eyes jump back to me. He narrows his blues and looks down again.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks. “What is all of this?” He turns slightly in the room, blue eyes roaming over the papers.
I look down at my life strewn on the floor. Picture after picture, newspaper article after article. I gaze at it all, my thoughts just as scattered.
What happened to me?
My hand stays on my mouth, my vision blurring. I shut my eyes, slowly sliding down the door until I feel the floor beneath me. My eyes open and I tremble.
How did I get here?
How did I become this person?
So obsessed with something that I hurt the one person I don’t know how to live without.
Jace watches me. I can feel his eyes even without seeing them.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I shake my head. “I’m so damn sorry.” He walks over to me.
“Get up,” he says.
My shoulders shake, and my chest shudders as I try to breathe out slowly. He bends in front of me and puts his finger under my chin.
“You did this,” he says, his voice laced with hurt and devastation. Not anger or resentment like it should be, but like he’s speaking from a broken heart.
“I know.” I sniff and my lungs breathe in with a shake. “I know.”
He drops his hand and I look up at his face. He just stares at me, his eyes full of hopelessness.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks desperately broken. “How am I supposed to walk away from you?” His face cracks, and a tear falls from his eyes.
“I don’t know,” I reply despairingly. I reach out, but he stands up and backs away from me.
I drop my hand at his rejection.
He looks around the room again. “Tell me what this is.”
I nod and swallow. “That’s Chloe, my sister.” I never talk about this with anyone. Davy and Monroe know, but it’s because they work with me. No one else knows this side of me besides my family.
But Jace deserves it all.
He should know who I am before he walks away forever.
“She was taken when we were kids. I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re an FBI agent?”
“Yes,” I say. I clear my throat, wipe my face, and push off the floor. I walk over to him and he backs up. It’s only a little, but I notice.
He doesn’t want me to touch him.
And that hurts more than anything.
I reach down and pick up one of her pictures. “She was my best friend. I snuck out of the window Halloween night. I left the thing open, and he crawled right in.” I look up at Jace. “A monster snatched my sister up and took her into the dark.”
He tilts his head slightly, his emotions changing from guarded to pity.
“And as we stand here, he still has her.” I pick up another piece of paper.
The email.
“Chloe is the reason I became an FBI agent. She’s the reason for everything.”
His eyes dart down to the paper in my hand.
I drop it, letting it sink to the floor. Carefully, I walk back over to him.
He watches me cautiously.
And I’m terrified that at any minute he’ll leave me. I reach my hand up and touch the side of his face.
He freezes solid.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” I whisper. “I’ll never forgive myself.”
His eyes soften.
My mouth opens slightly, and he grabs me. His kiss bruises my lips as he holds on to my face tightly. I fall apart, wanting him to use me any way he can as long as he’s the one doing it.
His hand moves from my face to my throat and he grips, his tongue twisting with mine. He backs us up, the couch hitting the back of my knees. I fall and he climbs between my legs. He reaches and tugs my jogging pants down quickly as I lift my ass so he can drag them past my calves.
I reach up and undo his pants, pulling his cock out. He rams inside of me without warning, causing me to wince.
Jesus.
He fucks me without caution. He gets as close to me as he can and drives forward over and over. It doesn’t feel amazing. If anything, it hurts, but it’s a hurt I fully welcome. There’s no way I’ll come, and there’s no way I deserve to.
He moves from my lips to my neck, sucking as hard as he can, marking me, I’m sure. Blood vessels pop and I hold on to his back, trying to get him to slow down. He touches my breast roughly through my shirt and I bite my lip, trying not to cry out.
He shudders a moment later, coming inside of me. He breathes heavy, looking down at my face. His eyes have turned hard, callous even.
He moves back and puts his dick into his pants. He zips his jeans up and twists his hat around frontward.
Jace glances around my apartment one more time before looking at me with my legs closed, my pants down.
He smirks. “Now you know how it feels to get fucked.”
And I laugh because I’m crazy.
“Get the fuck out,” I warn him.
He lifts his chin. “Done.”
He walks toward the door, and I quickly pull my pants up and jump off the couch. As he walks out, I pick up the lamp and throw it toward the door. Just as he shuts it, the lamp hits the back, cracking in two.
Then I sink to the floor and sob uncontrollably.
Chapter Forty-Five
Jace
I sit inside my apartment, staring at a broken TV screen as my cigarette hangs from my lips. Beer bottles line every surface of the room, some upright and some knocked over from tossing beer caps at them sideways. You can really get those things spinning if you do it right.
My phone rings for the millionth time, and I look down at it to see it’s Harrison and then Pops and then fucking Mary. I ignore them all and stand up, tripping over broken pieces of wood from my coffee table.
I walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. Turning around, I look over the destroyed apartment and exhale.
What am I doing?
Chapter Forty-Six
Jace
(Three days later)
Hours bleed into days, and days fly by in a blur. It’s been three. I can’t get over this. I can’t move on.
I’m drowning in misery. My thumb lingers over her name. Dalton.
Is that her name?
Is she hurting as much as me?
Would she ever talk to me again after what I did?
Do I fucking care?
Yes.
God, how I wish I didn’t. I slide my thumb across the screen. She answers after two rings.
“Jace?” she says.
“Was it all a lie?” I ask. It’s past midnight. I can’t sleep, but I can’t wake up.
I’m living in the worst nightmare.
“No,” she says.
I look down at the floor. “What’s your real name?”
“Harlow Dalton.”
“Harlow,” I repeat.
“Yes.”
Neither of us says anything else. We stay on the phone until I can’t take it anymore and hang up.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jace
(Four days later)
I sit out on the covered balcony as rain falls. It’s been four days now. I picked up my apartment this morning, tossing the broken shit out into the hallway for the trash team to pick up. I fixed some eggs and bacon for breakfast and drank mostly water instead of beer.
I hear a knock on my door, so I stand up and walk back inside. I open the door and a woman stands on the other side, looking unsure. She’s pregnant.
“Jace Grant?” she asks.
I nod, puzzled at who she is.
“I’m Bla…” She stops herself. “I’m Rocket’s wife.”
My face grows grim. Oh my God.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.”
“No, no. Come in,” I reply, opening the door wider so she can walk by.
She hesitantly looks around the apartment, and I thank God that I cleaned up. I no longer have a TV or coffee table, but at least the evidence of beer and broken shit is gone.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask.
“No, thank you. I’ll only be here for a moment.”
She takes a seat on the couch as I walk over, choosing to stand.
She shakes her head and chuckles. “Blake talked about you so much. It’s surreal being here.”
God, I almost forgot what his real name was. We called him Rocket so much. That’s just who he was to me.
“He talked about you a lot, too,” I reply, leaning against the arm of the chair and crossing my arms.
She smiles and then takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to keep you. I just know he would have wanted you to have this.” She reaches her hand out, and I didn’t even notice she was holding something this whole time.
It’s a necklace—his dog tags. I glance down at them before looking back at her. “You don’t have to give me those.”
“I know that,” she says. “But the man adored you, Jace. He thought you were something special.”
That hurts.
I let him die.
I grab them from her hand and inhale as I drop them down in my palm. “I’m sorry,” I tell her.
She frowns. “For what?”
“For him not being here. It’s my fault.”
She shakes her head. “Jace, you can’t think that. All this time? You’ve been thinking this is your fault?”
“I know it is.”
Hours I’ve been here. I keep waking up and passing back out. But I finally hear something else besides Dari. “Anyone in here?” I hear one of my guys yell out.
“Here!” I yell. Footsteps run over to where I am buried under cement rubble. With heavy grunts, they pull pieces off of me. I’m beat up, I can feel, as they lighten the load over me. And once sunlight slices through, I wince.
“Name?” one of them says.
“Grant.” I try to move, but I’m fucking weak.
“We got you. Is anything broken?”
“Everything?” I question with a chuckle.
“Good to see you still have your humor. Get a stretcher over here.”
Painfully, I’m lifted onto the stretcher. “Where are my guys?” I ask.
One of the men looks at me. “Sir, they’re all gone.”
“Gone? You mean they’ve already been rescued?”
The two guys look at each other, and then I remember. I stop talking as it all comes back to me.
“Oh fuck,” I choke.
“You’re the only one, Grant.”
“When I got to the medical tent, they told me I had a concussion. I kept forgetting what happened, and then I’d have to relive it all over again.
“I was trapped under cement, and Rocket was dying. I could have yelled. I could have gotten out somehow and shot those motherfuckers.” I run a hand over my face.
“Jace, look at me.”
I look up at the woman who’s carrying a baby that will never see its father.
And that guilt crushes me.
“Blake wanted to fight for his country. He chose that life, knowing it could kill him. You had nothing to do with that.
“The last thing he would want is you sitting around blaming yourself.”
I nod. “You’re right. He would tell me to stop being a pussy and get my shit together.”
She laughs. “He had such a dirty mouth.”
I chuckle.
She exhales. “Well, I better get going.” She stands up and I do, too. She walks to the door and opens it before turning back to me. “It was really good to meet you.”
“You too.”
She smiles. “Take care.”
I nod and she walks on through. I shut the door behind her, looking down at the dog tags in my hand. I put them around my neck and look over my place. My phone burns a hole in my pocket because I want to call her. I’d also like to talk to my brother, but I’m sure he’s infuriated with me.
I slide my phone out and look at the screen.
I can’t talk to her. I can’t be with her after what she did to my brother. What she did to me.
I have to focus on the pain that she caused so I can remember why I have to stay away from her. I lean my head back on the door, hitting it against the wood and shutting my eyes.
I think back on all the papers that flew out of her table. Her sister Chloe who she never mentioned before.
Maybe she’s more fucked-up than I am.
Maybe it’s a good thing we’re not together.
Maybe I need to get the hell out of here and get my mind off of all this shit.
I push off the door and grab my keys.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jace
Loud music drowns out my thoughts. This is the worst dive bar in town, but I needed somewhere that didn’t remind me of the shit storm I caused. I’m drunk, dancing with some chick I met at the bar earlier. It’s a nice distraction. It’s whatever.
“Gotta pee,” she says. I nod and stumble back to the bar. I lift my finger for another drink. The bartender narrows his eyes at me.
“You think you need another?” he asks.
“I think you need to mind your fucking business.”
He shakes his head at me before sliding a filled shot glass across the bar.
“’Preciate it,” I say before tossing it back.
The music grows louder, and my vision blurs. I stumble to the bathroom, pushing open the door and kicking it shut behind me. I grip onto the sink and reach down into my pocket to pull out the cocaine I bought earlier.
The rush hits me like a ton of bricks and I breathe in, looking up as I shut my eyes.
Her face is the first thing that flashes there, and I fucking hate it.
I look down at my phone, not realizing I’d pulled it out. The urge to talk to her is killing me.
God, I hate this. I throw my phone against the sink, smashing it to pieces.
I open the door and walk out with a new purpose in my step. I see the girl I was dancing with, and I walk up to her and grab her hand. “Come on.”
____________
The sound of knocking wakes me from my coma-like sleep.
I blink my eyes open, wishing I didn’t.
Jesus Christ, I feel like shit.
The knocking continues and I look over, seeing a woman in the bed beside me.
God, I don’t even remember coming here. I throw the covers off and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to gain some balance here. I exhale and reach for a smoke on the bedside table before sliding it
behind my ear. I grab my black sweats from the floor and pull them on before walking to the door.
I clear my throat and open the door to Harrison.
“Hey,” I say, my voice sounding hoarse and raspy.
Shit. She looks like I feel, but I’m sure I look worse.
She pulls her shades up. “Hey.”
And then I remember the girl in the bed. Fuck, I hate Harrison is seeing this shit, but what the hell? This is me. This is the Jace everyone expects.
“Get out,” I tell the girl.
Harrison frowns as I move to the side and look back at the girl in bed.
She doesn’t move. “Now,” I say a little louder as I grab my smoke and place it between my lips. I reach my hand into my pocket, pulling a lighter out as the girl scrambles from the bed, hurrying to get her things as I light my cigarette. Ugh, I need something to make me feel better.
I feel like death.
The girl I brought home last night looks at Harrison like she’s my girl and she’s sorry she slept with me. I want to laugh, but my fucking head hurts.
I hit my smoke. “Come in,” I tell Harrison.
She gives me a funny look, like thanks for inviting her into Bryce’s place when she’s the one who belongs here, not me.
She’s right.
I push the door shut before I walk over and grab a shirt from the top of the dresser. I then reach over and start the record player sitting on top.
I dart my eyes back over to Harrison who slides her hands into her jeans pockets as I place my cigarette onto the aged wood, letting the burning end hang off the side so I can put my shirt on. Bon Iver sings “Skinny Love,” and it sets the mood in the apartment, matching how I feel on the inside.
Sad and hopeless as fuck.
Harrison’s eyes go to the cocaine and empty beer bottles. She’s judging me, I see it all over her face.
I don’t care anymore.
I lean down, picking up the rolled bill. I breathe in the white powder before tilting my head back and wiping my nose.
Instantly, my headache feels better. I feel like Denzel Washington in Flight, ready to take on the world now.
Grabbing my smoke, I put it between my teeth.
Give Me Redemption (Give Me Series Book 4) Page 21