She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, it’ll be me and the other losers.”
“Then be a loser.”
She looks up. “Why would I want that?”
“If being a loser means being true to yourself, why would you want to be anything else? If the last year and a half has taught me anything, it’s that labels are just that…labels. You put labels on the outside of things, and what’s on the outside isn’t always the same as what’s in. And come on, you’re talking to the girl who uses math to wake herself up in the morning. Can I be a bigger loser?”
“You are a pretty big one. Thanks, Nora.”
“Don’t worry about what others think. Easier said than done, I know.” I put my hand on hers. “I’m gonna take a shower now.”
“Good.” She wrinkles her nose. “You smell like Jack and it’s grossing me out.”
* * *
“It feels good to be on break,” I say, snuggling closer to Jack. It’s Friday night and I ditched my plans to see a movie with Veronica and Nancy to steal a few hours alone with Jack.
“Please tell me you’re going to turn off that stupid math alarm.”
“I’ll set it for two hours later. Gotta keep my brain sharp.”
He laughs and puts his lips to my neck, kissing his way down to my collarbone. I open my eyes and turn over, reaching for him.
“We have another hour before we need to leave.” Jack slides his hand along my bare ass. “I want to fuck you again.”
“You always want to fuck me.” I take his hand and move it between my thighs.
“That is true.” His fingers sweep over my clit, still sensitive from the orgasm that rocked me not long ago. I moan softly and widen my legs. “You are so fucking hot,” Jack groans, finding me wet already. I put my hands on his head and shove him down. He moves under the covers and I lay back.
Something thumps downstairs. I think. Maybe? The sheets are rustling, and I’m distracted. There’s no way Jack’s family is home. Veronica and Nancy are at the movie I’m supposed to be at, Mrs. Harrington is at her sister's house for wine night, and Mr. Harrington is at work. We have the house to ourselves.
Jack spreads my legs, face hovering above me. His warm breath against me is tantalizing, and since we had sex maybe half an hour ago, he moves with more patience than before. Slow. Teasing. Winding me up so tight I’ll be the desperate one.
And then I hear it again. Charlie, who’s been sleeping on the floor, looks up. We’re home alone but still closed the bedroom door. I look through the dark, watching Charlie turn his head.
“Jack,” I whisper. “I think someone’s home.”
“We have the house to ourselves, babe.” He kisses the inside of my thigh. The same thumping echoes up the stairs, sounding like someone is jiggling the front door. Charlie springs to his feet.
“Charlie hears it too.”
Jack moves off of me, holding his breath. “Fuck. You’re right. Maybe my dad stopped by for something.” Silently, he gets out of bed and puts on boxers and then pajama pants. I scramble for my clothes, finding my yoga pants at the foot of the bed. “I’ll go down. Just uh…uh…pretend you’re not here?”
I can’t find my underwear but don’t waste time looking. I shove my legs in my pants and pick up one of Jack’s sweatshirts off the ground in case I need to make a run for it. Jack’s almost to the door when Charlie growls. A second later, glass shatters.
Jack grabs Charlie, keeping him from barking.
“Maybe your dad bumped into something and it broke?” I whisper.
Jack shakes his head. “Stay here.”
“Jack, no!” I grab his wrist when he makes a move for the door. “Lock the door and call 911.”
He keeps moving toward the door.
“Please! Don’t leave me!”
My words make him pause. “I’ll never leave you. Call. I’ll lock the door.”
My hands tremble and I enter the wrong passcode on my phone. Twice. Jack brings Charlie onto the bed and cradles him against his chest, holding his muzzle with one hand to prevent him from barking and giving us away.
Finally, I open my phone and call 911. I sit next to Jack, hating how loud my breathing is.
“911. What is the location of your emergency?”
Jack lives next to me, but I can’t think of his address. “Crescent Street. Eight-oh, uh…”
“Eight-oh-five,” Jack whispers.
“Eight-oh-five Crescent Street. Someone is breaking in.”
Charlie tries to jump out of Jack’s arms. He growls and Jack stands, turning the dog away from the door. The 911 operator tells me a squad car is nearby and will be here in less than five minutes. Every second feels like a minute. Five minutes will take an eternity. She tells me to stay on the line, and I go to Jack and Charlie, trying my best to keep the dog calm and quiet.
If the person breaking in is the same one who’s been terrorizing the city since the fall, he’s armed. If we can stay up here unnoticed we will probably be safe.
Probably.
A minute passes. My heart is still racing, and my hands are still shaking. We can hear the person downstairs, knocking things over. Jack’s eyes are wide, and he looks pissed, not scared out of his mind like me. His jaw is tense, and his stomach is getting scratched to hell from Charlie’s claws. He’s a big dog, but Jack holds him like he weighs nothing at all.
I look at the timer from the phone call. It’s been two and a half minutes. The guy clomps around, and the distinct sound of glass ornaments breaking echoes up the stairs.
And then the floorboards on the steps creak.
I look at Jack, eyes wide with terror. Charlie freaks out, pulling his head from Jack’s hand and barks.
Shit.
I inhale but get no oxygen. Jack lets Charlie go and the dog runs to the door, barking like crazy. The 911 operator says something else, but I can’t hear her over the dog.
Jack grabs my arm, moving me into the small bathroom. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, stepping back with balled fists.
“No. Jack, no!”
I drop the phone and it clatters into the sink. Charlie jumps at the door, barking like mad. Whoever’s on the outside tries the knob. Finding it locked, they step back and kick. The guy kicks again, caving in the door. It flies open, swinging back into the wall. He’s holding a gun and it’s pointed at Charlie.
Jack lunges, grabbing the guy’s wrist. He hits him hard in the face and Charlie leaps through the air, biting the guy’s thigh. A shot is fired, and I scream, terrified Jack got hurt. Dust falls from the ceiling and Jack throws another punch. The guy stumbles back and the gun falls to the ground. Charlie shakes his head, tearing the guy’s flesh. He’s wearing a black ski mask under a black hooded sweatshirt.
Jack kicks him hard in the chest and the guy tumbles backward down the stairs. Jack picks up the gun and goes after him. Paralyzed by fear, I force myself to breathe and go after him.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Stop. Right fucking now!” Jack yells over Charlie’s barking.
I grip the railing. My legs almost go out from under me as I hurry down the stairs. The guy’s on the ground, blood dripping from his nose and soaking the mask. His arms are in the air. Charlie stands in front of Jack, fur on end and teeth bared. The burglar looks from the dog to Jack.
The fear in his eyes is palpable. He knows he’s fucked.
“Move and I’ll shoot!” Jack takes a step closer. His eyes are glazed over while at the same time he’s hyper-focused. Blue and red lights flash outside the house. The police are here. The guy puts his hands back in the air. Jack doesn’t back down. Doesn’t lower the gun. He stares at the guy with a look I’ve never seen on him before. It’s a mixture of hate and regret. Of heartache and rage.
Footsteps come from the front of the house. Mr. Harrington runs in, gun raised. Jack doesn’t take his eyes off the guy on the floor.
“Don’t move,” Mr. Harrington tells the burglar. “It’s okay, Ja
ck. I got him. Good work.”
But Jack doesn’t lower his arm. He doesn’t look away.
“Put down the gun, Jack.”
Jack pulls the hammer back on the gun and points it at the guy. “I can’t let you do this, Jason.”
Jason? I inch closer, careful not to sneak up on Jack. He called the guy Jason. I’m sure of it.
“Jack! Drop it.” Mr. Harrington’s eyes flit to me. “Stand back, Nora.”
Two more officers move into the house, unsure where to point their weapons. Jack’s holding the gun, but they know it’s their boss’s son. And poor Charlie doesn’t know what to think. He growls at everyone but won’t leave Jack.
“Don’t make me do this,” Jack says hoarsely, pointing the gun in his face. It’s then I realize if Jack’s mind took him back to the day he shot Jason, he’s going to pull the trigger again. I don’t want him to have to live with that. I won’t let him.
“Jack,” I say firmly and step into his line of sight.
“Nora, stop!” Mr. Harrington yells. He signals for the other officers to keep their guns aimed at the burglar.
“He won’t hurt me.”
“He doesn’t know what’s going on right now. Stop. Nora, now!”
I shake my head and move in front of Jack. “Jason isn’t here. It’s just me and you,” I say softly and reach for him, cupping his face. “Me and you.”
Jack blinks and looks away from the guy on the ground. “Me and you,” he repeats. Then he steps back, realizing what just happened. He lowers the gun and takes the magazine out. His dad takes the gun and another officer cuffs the burglar.
“Are you okay?” Jack asks me. “Did he hurt you? Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine. You saved me. And Charlie.”
Jack’s heart is racing. “I was so sure he was Jason. But he’s not.”
I pull Jack to me. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
His brow furrows and he lets his head fall against mine. “I thought he was going to hurt you. Whoever he is. I can’t lose you, Nora.”
“You won’t.”
Another officer pulls us aside while Mr. Harrington assesses the damage to his house. Charlie, who has blood staining the fur around his mouth, sits next to Jack. We give our statement—there’s not much to tell—and then wait for Jack’s dad to come talk to us. Staying out of the way, and keeping Charlie calm, we go into the formal dining room. Jack sits and puts his head in his hands.
I pull out a chair next to him, heart still beating rapidly. The chaos and noise continue around us.
“Jack? Are you okay?”
He looks up, blinking. “No. I’m not. There’s something wrong with me.”
“There is nothing wrong with you.”
“Nora, come on. You can’t pretend that didn’t happen.”
“I’m not pretending.”
He sighs heavily. “I thought I was done with the dark.”
“I’ll be your light. We’ll get through this. The tunnel is dark and twisty right now, but I’m not going to let go of your hand. I promise. We’ll find that light together.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“I will deal with anything for you.” I intend for my words to reassure him, but they seem to do the opposite.
* * *
“How’s Jack?” Stephanie pours hot water into a coffee mug.
“He says he’s tired and doesn’t want to talk.” I sit at the island counter and Stephanie slides a cup of tea my way. “He’s taking it hard. He hasn’t had a flashback in so long. I don’t know what to do to help him.”
“You are helping him just by being there.” She adds sugar to her tea and leans on the counter. “We’ve had several kids here with PTSD. It’s a dark, confusing disorder that doesn’t always follow a pattern or give warning signs before it rears its ugly head. What happened tonight was extremely traumatic. To both of you. It’s no wonder it triggered something.”
“I said something similar.” I turn, looking over my shoulder. Doug is over at the Harringtons, helping board up the broken window and put things back in order. Jack is on the couch, and Charlie’s been running around our house sniffing everything. With a sigh, I get up and find a rag under the kitchen sink to use to wash the blood out of Charlie’s fur. Stephanie helps, and we get him almost clean. His fur is more white than gold and the stain is set in. I’d trim the red fur out if I didn’t think Jack would care. The last thing he needs right now is his dog getting a hack job haircut.
“Can Jack stay the night?” I ask Stephanie.
She thinks about it for a moment. “It’s not appropriate. You’re still in high school.”
“Oh, right.”
“Though considering all that happened tonight, he can stay on the couch.”
“Thanks.” I drink a few sips of tea then go back to the living room, cuddling up with Jack. It takes only twenty minutes of me running my fingers through his hair for Jack to fall asleep. And almost the same moment he does, both his parents and Doug come through the door.
Mrs. Harrington’s eyes are still wet with tears. She’s been crying since she got to the house, making me recall her words about how much it hurts to see Jack struggle and not be able to do a damn thing about it.
“He’s asleep,” I whisper, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. Jack’s head is in my lap, face turned in toward my stomach.
“It’s been a long night,” Mr. Harrington says. “For us all. It’s time to go.”
“He can stay so we don’t have to wake him up.”
“I think you two have had enough alone time tonight.” Mr. Harrington’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Haven’t you?”
“Nora will stay in her room.” Stephanie glances at me. “And I’ll most likely be up. There’s no way I’ll fall asleep easily after all this.”
Doug motions to his recliner. “I fall asleep in that chair almost every night. I wouldn’t mind sleeping down here tonight.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Mrs. Harrington says, and her husband glares at her.
“Jack does not need to stay the night at his girlfriend’s house. Jack,” Mr. Harrington says loudly. “It’s time to go home, son.”
Jack stirs, fighting to open his eyes. He’s exhausted and needs to rest. Without nightmares, I should add.
“What’s going on?” Jack asks, looking around the crowded room.
“Everything is fine,” Mrs. Harrington tells him. “It’s late. We’re all rattled and tired. Time to go home.”
Jack looks into my eyes. “Turn your alarm on as soon as I leave?”
“We will.”
Jack kisses me goodnight and I walk him to the door. Big, fluffy snowflakes are falling from the sky. Any other night, I would have stopped to admire it. But tonight, the air just gives me a chill.
“Nora,” Mr. Harrington says as he goes out the door. “I never got a chance to tell you congrats on getting into UC Berkeley. That’s quite a feat.”
“Thanks. It is,” I say, and it hits me. Hard. So hard it almost knocks me off my feet. Jack needs me. Berkeley is hours away.
Jack promised he wouldn’t leave me.
There’s no way I’m leaving him.
Chapter 22
Jack
Nora’s sitting at the foot of my bed when I wake up. I tossed and turned all night, replaying everything in my mind. I can’t make sense of it. I know what happened. I know the guy breaking in wasn't Jason.
Jason is dead.
So why am I stuck in an endless loop of remembering and feeling every single fucking thing I did that day? I know I’m not there. I know it’s not possible. Yet it feels so fucking real.
“Hey,” Nora says softly and puts her Kindle down. She’s wearing leggings and a sweater. Her hair is pulled over her shoulder in a messy braid and she looks as tired as I feel. I sit up only to pull her back down with me, throwing the blankets over both of us.
“What time is it?” I mumble.
&nbs
p; “Around nine.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Like an hour. I couldn’t sleep, and I was worried about you. I didn’t think you’d sleep well either.”
“I didn’t.” The last time I looked at the time, it was going on seven. I got just over two hours of sleep. No wonder I feel like shit.
“Go back to sleep.” She faces me, pushing my hair back. “I’ll stay here.”
I close my eyes, feeling anger rise inside me. I’m not mad at Nora. I’m mad she’s here taking care of me like a sick puppy. It’d be different if I had the flu or something I’d get better from. But this…whatever the hell is wrong with me…I’m not going to get better. It’s been years and I’m still having flashbacks. Still getting stuck in the past. Reliving the worst moments of my life over and over.
Nora brings her face to mine and we kiss. She’s light and she’s warmth. She’s everything good in this world, and I don’t know why someone like her, someone who’s been through her own personal hell and came out swinging, wants anything to do with someone like me.
She trails her hands down my chest, slipping one inside my boxers. I’m not hard, though it won’t take long. Nora has a way with me. Her long fingers brush over my dick to the inside of my thigh.
“Nora,” I groan, cock growing hard in her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’d think you’d know a hand-job by now.”
“Yeah.” I pause, rolling from my side onto my back. “I mean why.”
“You sleep better after you come.” She kisses me and continues to jerk me off. Once I’m close to coming, she moves her head down and takes my cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip. I look down under the sheets, watching her lips slide up and down my cock as I come. Nora swallows, wipes her mouth, then moves back up to me. She pulls my head onto her chest and runs her hands through my hair, trying to get me to go back to sleep.
I close my eyes and do my best to relax, but I can’t turn off my fucking mind. Nora is too good for me. She deserves better than this. It’s almost Christmas and she just got into Berkeley. She shouldn’t have to deal with the mess that comes with me.
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