"They had bright futures."
"And you didn't?"
He hiked his shoulders.
She stopped to stare at him, to study him. He wasn't just blank anymore--he was cold. As cold as he'd been the first day they met. He hardly seemed capable of a good mad, much less a black, uncontrollable rage. But too well did she remember the wine-and-cheese tasting. How, for a split second, he had looked capable of murder. Would he have hit that woman, despite his claim otherwise?
A tremor of fear washed through her. What would happen if ever he lost his temper with her?
That day in the yard, he'd pushed her and come at her with his hands fisted.
He might not want to, might not mean to, but...
Fear held her in its jaws, razor-sharp teeth sinking deep into her heart.
"Are you sorry?" she asked.
"Every day since," he said.
Was he really? Or was that his answer simply because it was the right one?
"You don't look sorry," she said. "You don't look like you feel anything."
"I feel. You know it." He stared back at her--giving nothing away. "Are you afraid of me now?"
"Yes," she snapped, because it was true. She understood why he'd erupted back then. His friend had been hurt in a horrible, cruel way. But he hadn't stopped himself from going too far. In his own words, he couldn't stop.
"I would never hurt you, Brook Lynn."
"So easy to say," she muttered.
Another flinch, as if she'd struck him. Yes, okay, he did feel. But was it enough to stop him from unleashing on her if ever his control snapped?
"Jase," she said, hating herself--hating him. "I...I'm going to go. I need time to process this."
He didn't hesitate to give her a clipped nod, as if he'd expected the words. She waited, but he offered nothing more.
Disappointment coursed through her. Had she expected him to fight for her to stay after she'd just confessed to fearing his temper? It may have been wrong of her, but...yes. Part of her wished he would draw her into his arms, hold her tight and promise everything would be okay.
So confused!
"I...I'm sorry." Turning, she fled the room, the house...and the man she'd never really known.
*
BROOK LYNN DIDN'T report to work the next day, or the next. Jase's chest had stopped throbbing at least; it now hurt all the damn time. He wanted to shout "See! I knew this would happen."
He'd once heard fearing something gave it entrance into your life, and actually brought it to pass, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, because it changed the way you thought and spoke and acted. This--Brook Lynn's defection--had been his biggest fear.
And here I am. Without her.
By some miracle, during their talk he'd managed to return to the state he knew best--every emotion hidden behind armor--guarding himself against desperation, rage and even heartbreak. He'd managed to hold himself together all the minutes--seconds--since. He'd worked. He'd gone to another soccer game and cheered for the Strikers. He'd helped plan a few details for Tessa's celebration.
Today, the armor had cracked and he'd begun to break down bit by bit.
He should have been prepared for this. How many people had he lost in his lifetime? He should be over it already.
Except he wasn't.
Jase stood outside in his backyard. There was a full moon tonight. Locusts buzzed. Crickets sang. The combination was pleasant and should have soothed him, but he hated all of it. Brook Lynn wasn't here to share it with him, and she never would be. One day she might even share it with someone else. Someone without a record.
He drained the beer in his hand then threw the empty bottle into the trash bin he'd carried out here. A six-pack waited on the porch table--his second of the evening.
"You want to tell me what's wrong?"
Beck's voice. Jase didn't bother turning around as the back door slid shut and footsteps sounded. "No," he said.
"How about the reason Brook Lynn stopped coming around making my dinner?"
"Nope." He popped the cap of another beer, drained half the contents.
"Well, okay, then." Beck grabbed a beer for himself.
"You aren't going to push for answers?"
"No."
"Why? Never mind. I know why." Jase gave a harsh laugh. "I don't know how many ways I can say it, but you guys really need to get over your guilt issue." He drained the rest of the bottle, swayed on his feet. Had that been a sneer in his tone?
"I will always feel guilty for what we did," Beck said quietly. "Or rather, what we didn't do."
"You shouldn't." Had the situation been reversed, had one of them taken the blame and told him to stay quiet, he would have done it, despite his feelings on the matter. Because that's what they did for each other. Whatever the others asked.
He threw his bottle at a tree, the tinkle of broken glass filling the night. Brook Lynn had accused him of not feeling. Well, he felt. Despite his armor. He felt so much he suddenly choked on it. Bitterness, resentment. Hate. So much hate. Guilt of his own. Sorrow and remorse. Pain--oh, the pain, still there in his chest, growing worse with every second that passed. It was just better for everyone--including himself--if he didn't allow himself to feel so strongly.
"She left me." He pushed over the table. The remaining beers hit the ground, the tops blowing off. Liquid guzzled out. He was panting, fighting for every breath. "I told her about prison, and she cut and ran."
"Hey, hey, hey." Beck cupped the back of his neck, applied pressure. "You and I both know just because something is going on one day doesn't mean it will be going on the next. I've come to know that girl. I've seen the way she looks at you. Which makes something I've done especially stupid."
Confusion penetrated his haze. "What have you done?"
"Not important right now. I'm certain Brook Lynn won't stay gone."
Beck hadn't seen the panic in her eyes, hadn't heard the fear in her tone. "You're wrong."
"I wouldn't make a statement like that unless I was one hundred percent confident," his friend said. "I know women. Well. Like, really well. Like, really really--"
A small spark of humor. "I think I get it."
"She just needs time. Imagine if she'd led a life you knew nothing about."
"I would want her, no matter what."
"You would also need...say it with me..."
"Time," they said in unison.
The loud crunch and grind of heavy metal forcibly changing shape suddenly echoed. He and Beck shared a look of concern before taking off in a sprint. The first thing Jase noticed as he rounded the corner to the front yard were the headlights blinking on and off--West's headlights. Smoke curled from the hood. A hood wrapped around a tree.
Jase quickened his pace. "I thought he was in his room."
"He was."
"West!" He reached the door first--the mangled door. He and Beck had to work together to wrench it open. West spilled out, blood dripping from the center of his forehead.
"Call 911," Jase said, catching West before the guy hit the ground.
"That tree had it coming," West slurred, the scent of alcohol pungent on him.
Oh...hell. "Forget 911." The law would only make things worse. "Let's get him inside." Jase slung his arm around West's left side, and Beck came up to his right side. They acted as crutches, leading him toward the door.
"You could have killed someone," Beck muttered.
"How? Didn't drive anywhere," West said. "Would never. Just reparked my car."
"And purposely hit the tree?" Jase asked.
"Told you. Tree had it coming."
"This," Beck ground out.
Jase knew exactly what he meant. This was how West self-destructed around the anniversary of Tessa's death.
Beck added, "Get ready. It only gets worse."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LIFE SUCKED.
Just when Brook Lynn had started to get things together, to step through the heaven-on-earth door, fate had clos
ed in behind her, tied a blindfold around her eyes, forced her to turn in a thousand circles and step through the hell-on-earth door.
How could she have been so wrong about Jase? How could she have pegged an ex-con as a cop or a soldier?
"Okay," she heard Jessie Kay say, "you've moped enough."
Brook Lynn cracked open her eyes. Her sister was stretched out on her bed. When had that happened?
"I'm not moping. I'm brooding. Big difference."
Since the breakup-- No, no, they hadn't broken up. Since the decision to take a break--better--she'd left the house only once, when Kenna had dragged her to another dress appointment, hoping the change of scenery would cheer her up...but after she'd sobbed all over the salesgirl about the unfairness of life, her friend hadn't asked her out a second time.
"Just go away." Brook Lynn rolled to her other side--and came face-to-face with Kenna.
The redhead smirked at her, all it's not over.
They'd surrounded her!
"Go away, both of you." She tried to pull the covers over her face, but her sister ripped the material out of her hands...and kicked it to the floor.
"It's nine o'clock at night," Kenna said.
"So?" she demanded. "Your point?"
"So. You haven't gotten up yet."
"You and Jase broke up and--" Jessie Kay began.
"We didn't! We decided to go on a break," she corrected, depression and guilt settling over her like another blanket.
She'd just run out on him like a scared little rabbit. Because that's what she was! And it hurt, knowing she wasn't the woman he needed. Accepting. Comforting. Maybe he knew it, too. Maybe that's why he hadn't come after her. Why he hadn't done anything to convince her that her fears were unfounded.
Not that the blame fell fully on his shoulders. She could have called him, but hadn't.
If only her mind weren't at war. On one hand, she knew that while he'd committed a crime, he'd been a teenager at the time and had since paid the price. And really, he'd paid far more than a few years behind bars. Obviously, he'd paid in blood and pain.
On the other hand, she'd seen glimpses of rage in him and now didn't know if she could trust him in such a state.
Still...part of her wanted to be with him.
Part of me?
Ha! Most of her. But it wouldn't do either one of them any good if she flinched every time he raised his voice or his hand. Or if she ran and hid every time he got a little irritated with her.
Casting stones? She had a temper of her own, one the whole town feared. But she'd never really hurt anyone. Well, besides her annoying sister. Even at her worst, Brook Lynn had never done anything seriously damaging--and Jessie Kay had ensured she got hers in return. But a temper like Jase's?
How would he react the day she pushed him past the limits of his control? And she would. That was a guarantee.
Why couldn't she be like the women in books and movies and just trust him?
Easy. Because she was real, with real reactions.
Being real sucked.
"Dane says Jase is miserable." Kenna smoothed hair from Brook Lynn's brow. "Though he won't give details. Bro-code or something like that."
"You won't go see him. You won't talk about him. What's going on?" Jessie Kay asked.
She didn't want to reveal Jase's secret, but she desperately needed advice. She'd been agonizing for days with zero results.
"I just found out... I mean, Jase told me..." The rest of the words snagged in her throat. Was she really going to do this? Betray him? Because that's how he'd see it. He'd trusted her enough to share the most painful part of himself.
Dang it! She couldn't do it. She was on her own. "I plead the ho-code and will remain silent."
Jessie Kay snorted. "Did you just refer to yourself as a ho?"
"Did he cheat on you?" Kenna demanded.
"No, nothing like that."
"Did he lie to you? Steal from you?" Jessie Kay asked.
"No and no."
"Dude. Did he hit you?"
"What? No!" she gasped out.
But...would he? It was a question she couldn't shake, a fear she'd never before entertained. The only way to find out how he would treat her while enraged was to, well, enrage him.
A frisson of distress swept through her. I'm miserable without him, but too unsure about what the future holds to go to him.
She couldn't afford to make a mistake. But...she couldn't let fear make her decisions for her, either. After all, she might actually be in love with Jase Hollister. All the signs were there. A need to give him everything she had...to protect him from further pain. And she treasured her time with him, delighted in teasing him, laughing with him. She thrilled in breaking through his icy demeanor to find the heat that swirled inside him.
But, dang it, the fear remained.
"I need a new job," she muttered. "Just for a little while. Just until I figure some things out." But what could she do? Who was hiring? What wouldn't destroy her soul, little by little?
Off the top of her head...nothing. Cooking was the only thing she truly enjoyed, but none of the local restaurants or bakeries were hiring. Maybe they'd make an exception for her, though. She'd never forgotten the way those guys at the auto shop had reacted to her sandwich. Name your price, they'd said, as if they'd pay anything. Even...ten dollars? Fifteen? Just for a sandwich!
She would have tried opening her own shop, but it would have required too much overhead on her part.
Although...did she really have to open a shop to sell her sandwiches?
Buds of excitement unfurled within her, giving life to a tide of eagerness. What if she operated on a delivery-only basis? People could place their orders every morning, and she could make deliveries every afternoon and evening, making casseroles for working moms and dads to easily heat and serve to their families. That wouldn't be enough to sustain her, but she could always expand into catering.
My own business, she thought, awed. She would be in control of her hours and her schedule.
She had to try.
"The job search can wait another day," Jessie Kay said. "You don't want to tell us what's going on, fine, but we're not letting you wallow a second longer. We're going dancing, and that's final. You deserve a good time. And a new man, if that's something you're interested in exploring."
"I'm not. I only want Jase," she muttered.
"I bet I can change your mind." Jessie Kay tugged her out of bed and herded her into the bathroom. "Shower. Wash the stank off."
"Fine. I'll wash the stank off, as you so elegantly put it," she said. You're welcome, world. "But that's it. That's all I'm doing."
Kenna grinned at her. "I'll be in the closet, looking for your sluttiest dress."
"I mean it," she insisted. "I'm staying in tonight."
"Sure, sure." Jessie Kay riffled through her underwear drawer. "Do you want to wear a thong or go with something lacy? Definitely lacy," she answered for her. "It'll drive all the guys you meet wild."
"I'm. Staying. In," she said and slammed the bathroom door.
*
TWO AND A HALF hours later, the girls flanked her sides, guiding Brook Lynn into the club. Of course, nothing in Strawberry Valley had been good enough for Jessie Kay, so they'd driven into the city.
"I can't believe you forced me into this," she muttered, waving a hand in front of her face. Smoke thickened the air, tickling her throat and making her cough.
Jessie Kay grinned. "I know! Isn't it great?"
Strobe lights flashed a million colors in every direction, spinning, spinning. Bright white lights pulsed in sync with the music. A thousand bodies overflowed the small space, men and women crowding the bar, standing around the occupied tables, bumping and grinding on the dance floor. She expected the seams of the building to split at any second.
I think I've walked into hell.
She switched her implants to silent, the noise simply too loud for her to function. Still she could feel the vibration of mu
sic bouncing off the floor and the walls.
Jessie Kay disappeared for a few minutes, only to return with a drink and two guys. She thrust the shot glass at Brook Lynn, saying to the guys, "This is my sister, y'all. As pretty as I promised, right?"
They looked her over as if she were a piece of meat on display at the butcher block.
One of them said something but she had no idea what. While she'd had no trouble reading her sister's lips, these boys were strangers and the lighting dim--when it wasn't exploding like fireworks.
The lack of understanding was probably a good thing.
One guy continued to leer at her, as if she were already a sure thing. The other smiled a smile he probably thought was charming but that merely creeped her out. It said: I know how to bury a body.
"Excuse me," she said and pushed her way into a dark corner.
Kenna wasn't far behind. Her features contorted into a grimace as she looked around. "I wasn't expecting...had no idea this was what your sister enjoyed."
"The sad thing is I knew, and yet here I am." She missed Jase. The way he looked at her--as if she were special. The way he touched her--as if she were a gift to be unwrapped.
She just had to find out how he'd react to being furious with her. Then they could be together.
"You gonna drink that?" Kenna motioned to the shot glass she still held.
The last time Brook Lynn had imbibed, she'd texted the most insane things to Jase. Every "what not to do" in every women's magazine.
Lightbulb! Maybe, with a little alcohol, she'd work up the courage to push his hot buttons and finally learn the answer to the question plaguing her.
I'm a sick, sick girl.
"Bottoms up," she muttered and drained the glass in a single gulp.
Oh, the burn! Just as bad as before. She sputtered, trying to catch her breath.
Jessie Kay arrived with a new crop of hopefuls--and two more shots. Brook Lynn downed the drinks without a word.
Considering she hadn't eaten much that day, just a few chips left in the bag on her nightstand, dizziness hit her fast and strong. She giggled, and Kenna wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady.
"You okay?" her friend asked.
"Better than." Maybe. Probably. She was going to make Jase soooo mad. He had no idea the storm about to be unleashed. "Hey, you," she said to the guy who wouldn't stop playing with the ends of her sister's hair. "Can I have your number? I lost my own."
He just blinked at her.
Jessie Kay rolled her eyes. "What she meant to say is... Here she is. Now, what are your other two wishes?"