Near and Far

  “Jesse?” I took a hesitant step forward. He didn’t move. There was no response. Wherever Jesse was, I needed to work my way into that place. I couldn’t let him be alone. “Jesse, it’s me. Rowen.”

  Still nothing.

  Choking back a sob, I unglued my feet and rushed to him. I wasn’t sure how he’d react to my touch, or if he’d react to it at all, but I had to put my arms around him. I had to hold him like he’d held me so many times, almost like he was holding me together. I crouched down beside him and scooted into the corner until my body was pressed into the side of his. Slowly, I wound my arms around him and drew him close. It was hard to describe, because he was still six-foot and two hundred pounds of muscle and bone, but somehow Jesse felt . . . frail. For the first time and what I hoped would be the last time. There were lapses of momentary weakness, and then there was frail. Like one gust of wind could blow him away from me.

  “Jesse. Come back to me.” I was trembling from keeping my emotions contained. “Please. I love you. You’re safe. Just . . . come back to me. I need you.” A sob sneaked out at the last part and another was about to when Jesse’s body flinched.

  “Rowen,” he whispered as one arm circled me.

  His whole body was so tense it looked as if some of his muscles were about to burst through the skin, but I sighed in relief at that one word. It was to date, and probably for every date forward, the most incredible sound I’d ever heard. Jesse was back. Wherever he’d gone, whatever dark place he’d been trapped in, he was back.

  “Oh my god, are you okay? Wait. Stupid question.” Tucking my chin over his head, I held him close and rocked him in my arms. “What can I do? What do you need?” I didn’t know what to say, and in my loss of knowing exactly what to say, I ended up unable to shut up.

  “Just this.” His head was still curled into his knees, but his body relaxed little by little with every passing second. The more he relaxed, the tighter my arms went. When his head finally lifted, his gaze shifted my way. His eyes didn’t give away that he’d been crying, but they did look different. Almost . . . hollow. Void. I would have preferred to see devastation or rage. “I shouldn’t have run off like that. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m sorry.” Jesse’s voice was strained, almost raspy, like each word was a fight to form.

  I whipped my head from side to side. “Why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m the one who’s going to need to apologize to you for the rest of my life.” I fitted my hand to his face, touching my thumb to the corner of his lips. “I’m so sorry, Jesse. I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I had no idea that . . . that woman . . . was your birth mother.”

  “Don’t use that word. Please don’t use that word.” I must have looked confused. “That woman was never a mother to me. She never showed an ounce of love, or compassion, or nurturing. She doesn’t deserve that title. Even with ‘birth’ preceding it.”

  I stared at the most incredible man in the world. A man who’d showed me unparalleled love, who was hard working, respected, and had a heart bigger than the giant state he lived in. I stared at an exceptional man who’d been hurt by awful people. The unfairness of it all made me so mad I wanted to hit something. I wanted to hit it until my knuckles bled and my tears were gone. I knew the laws of the spherical mass we lived on; I knew them because I’d tried to break just about every one and failed. I knew the rule was that life wasn’t fair and one was a fool to expect it, but the Jesse Walkers of the world should have been the exception. People who were so good they didn’t seem like they were of our world shouldn’t have been punished by the heinous rules of it.

  I wanted to hit something . . .

  So I curled my fingers deeper into Jesse and let that be my outlet. “What can I do?” Having no clue how to ease his pain was almost as bad as knowing I was responsible for it.

  “Just . . . let me figure all this out for a while. Let me process before you start firing off questions because I’m sure you’ve got hundreds.”

  I did have hundreds. Possibly thousands and, hard as it would be, that was a request I could accommodate. “Do you want me to go?” The thought made me sick. I didn’t want to leave him—I wasn’t sure if I could—but if that’s what he needed, I’d just have to. I’d brought that mess on him; I would do whatever it took to clean it up.

  If it even could be cleaned up . . .

  “No. Stay.” The arm around me tightened, and I breathed my second breath of relief in five minutes.

  We sat like that for a while, or maybe it wasn’t long at all. I couldn’t tell. I’d lost all understanding of time. So many questions flew through my mind; so many almost burst free. The only thing that slipped free, the only thing I couldn’t hold back, was, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t, Rowen. This isn’t your fault, and it isn’t about you. This is about me and dealing with”—Jesse sighed, looking like he was fighting to find the right words—“dealing with something I thought I’d left behind . . .” He had to stop again. His chest was rising and falling hard again, and his face was twisted in pain.

  I kissed the spot below his ear. “It’s all right, Jesse. I can handle it. You can tell me whatever it is.”

  I was going to add more, but a couple of raised voices caught my attention. They were growing louder. Alex kept saying that now wasn’t a good time, now was a very bad time. When I deciphered the other voice, I swallowed. It was too late to rush to the door and lock it. Not that that would have stopped Jax.

  “Chill out, Alex. I’m not here with a chainsaw. I’m just here to talk to her.”

  Jesse’s head whipped up right as Jax stormed inside. Such bad timing.

  “Oh, well, sure. Boyfriend’s in town. That explains why you’ve been avoiding my calls.”

  “What the hell are you doing here? And who the hell do you think you are bursting into my room? Why don’t you get the hell out?” Apparently, I was in a hell raising kind of mood.

  “Nice to see you, too, Cupcake.”

  Jesse’s body stiffened. “Jax, I don’t have anything against you, but I’m about to. Rowen asked you to leave. Either be a man and listen to her, or I’ll have to be the man for both of us and show you the way out.” Jesse’s voice was low and level, making it a thousand times scarier than if he was yelling.

  “Easy, Cowboy. I don’t do the testosterone-fueled intimidation thing, and from the looks of it, you’ve already been in the middle of something today.” Jax looked purposefully at Jesse’s black-smudged clothing.

  “Jax. Leave,” I ordered, standing. “And, trust me, if I’m the one who has to make you go, you’re going to wish Jesse had gotten to you first.”

  “Unlikely.” Jesse stood beside me and crossed his arms. He’d taken a one-eighty from the broken form on the ground he’d been moments ago.

  “Down, boy. And girl.” Jax’s smile curled in amusement as he inspected me. “I just have one quick question to ask you, and then I’ll be happy to show myself to the door.”

  I knew what that question was. I knew the words about to come from Jax’s mouth would undo Jesse all over again. I knew my betrayal, hot on the heels of being brought face to face with his childhood abuser, could send Jesse into another tailspin. The next one even worse.

  “Jax . . .” I gave my head a small shake and pleaded with my eyes. “Don’t.”

  “Have you decided on that internship yet, Rowen? How much longer do you think the museum is going to wait? After all, this is pretty much the opportunity of a lifetime and there are dozens, if not hundreds, of applicants in line behind you.” Jax’s smile was still in place. After that stunt, I’d normally want to slap it off of him. Instead, I felt deflated. Utterly and totally depleted of everything.

  That probably had a lot to do with the way Jesse was looking at me. Not with betrayal but with confusion. “You got an internship?”

  “I haven’t accepted it yet.” I studied the floor, unable to look him in the eyes.

  “When did you apply?” Hi
s arms uncrossed and he stepped in front of me.

  None of the answers would be easy ones, so I forced myself to go with the honest ones. “At the start of the school year.”

  “The first week of the school year,” Jax chimed in.

  I looked up long enough to glare at him over Jesse’s shoulder.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Probably because she was scared you wouldn’t support her.”

  I might have felt like a deflated balloon, but so help me god, if Jax opened his mouth to say something like that again, I could find the strength to punch him square in his smiling mouth. “It wasn’t that I was scared you wouldn’t support me. I was more scared of what it meant and what might happen if I got it.”

  “I don’t get what you’re saying, Rowen. Exactly why didn’t you tell me . . . Because you were scared of what might happen? What were you scared of happening?” Jesse’s hand settled into the bend of my neck, trying to get me to look at him.

  I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t look him in the eye and say what I needed to say. “I was afraid of this happening. I was afraid of getting it. I was afraid of you finding out and feeling betrayed. I was afraid of what would happen to us if I took the internship.” I was turning into a rambling mess. “I was afraid of so many things.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll work this out,” Jesse reassured me when I should have been the one reassuring him. “If you take the internship, when would you start?”

  I paused. That was the worst part. I knew that would be the part that would be the hardest for him to accept.

  “The day after school ends,” Jax said when I stayed quiet.

  Jesse glanced back over his shoulder, probably glaring at Jax the same way I wanted to.

  “And when does it end?” Jesse asked me, trying to keep his voice level.

  Scratch that former thought. That answer was going to be the worst part.

  “The day before school starts in the fall.”

  I wasn’t focused on Jax anymore. I’d forgotten he was there. The only thing that had my attention was Jesse. My gaze had slowly lifted until my eyes locked with his. What I saw in them sucked the oxygen from my lungs.

  “The whole summer?” One fraction of his expression still looked hopeful, like he was waiting for me to correct Jax.

  I’d lied by omission all year. I wasn’t going to lie to his face. “The whole summer.” My voice was as small as I felt.

  That last remaining scrap of hope left Jesse’s face. Lowering his gaze, Jesse’s hand fell from my neck. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He’d gone from one nightmare to the next, and I was the one responsible for bringing him to the portal of each one.

  “I need to leave,” Jesse announced suddenly, starting for the door.

  “Wait. Don’t go.” I grabbed for his arm. “Stay and let’s talk this out, Jesse.” I gave his arm a tug, but my efforts were nothing when Jesse moved with that kind of purpose.

  “No, Rowen. I don’t want to talk this out right now. I can’t.” He continued toward the door, refusing to look at me.

  “Jesse—”

  “Don’t, Rowen. Just don’t.” He paused and gave me a brief glance. What I saw on his face was something I’d never forget. Never. “I’m losing everything. That should earn a person some time alone.”

  I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted to throw myself in the doorway and hold him captive if I had to. I didn’t want to let him go because I was terrified if Jesse walked out of my bedroom door, he’d never walk in it again. It would be the last I’d see of him. I didn’t want to let him go . . . but I needed to. I knew I didn’t want to let him go for selfish reasons. I didn’t want him to go because that was what I wanted. My selfishness had done enough. Had done more than enough.

  I had to let him go because that was what he wanted.

  I let him go because that was what was best for Jesse.

  It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.

  As soon as my hands dropped from his arm, Jesse continued for the door, shouldering roughly past Jax. Jesse didn’t say another word. He never even looked back. It was like he’d already put me behind him, like I’d always feared he would, and come tomorrow, he wouldn’t be able to remember my first name.

  I’d always known that day was coming. As much as I’d tried to stomp out that fear, it had always lurked just below the surface. I always knew I would be the one responsible for tearing us apart because that’s what I did and that’s what I was good at. No matter how hard I tried to be something else, something better, I couldn’t keep the destructive part of me fully contained.

  “Happy trails, Cowboy.” Jax flicked a salute down the hallway with that same stupid grin.

  My fists balled at my sides. The night had been one sick, downward spiral. Might as well keep with the trend. When Jax glanced at me as I marched toward him, his face ironed out.

  “If you don’t want to leave the apartment in a body bag, you better get the hell out now.”

  Next to Jesse, I’d never seen a guy turn and move away from me as quickly as Jax did.

  IF I DIDN’T have a calendar to remind me of the date, I would have sworn a decade had passed in those few days since Seattle. I thought I’d known hell for the past month; I thought I’d known despair as a young boy.

  I’d been wrong.

  The roller coaster of emotions I’d been on the past three days were like nothing I’d felt before. My whole life felt like it was in some state of limbo. Everything felt up in the air; nothing felt certain. I felt like I was losing everything I cared about, one piece at a time. It was like dying a slow death. A quick and clean break would have been so much easier.

  Seeing the woman who’d given birth to me had been . . . well, there were no words to describe that. It had been like living one of my nightmares. Five seconds of staring into her face had reduced me to that same scared, lost boy I’d been years ago. Five seconds of being around her had been enough to lose myself. I couldn’t even remember how I’d gotten to Rowen’s apartment, nor could I recall how much time had passed. Everything from the time I’d escaped Mojo to the time Rowen found me was black. I had no memory of any of it.

  Rowen brought me back. She was that one sliver of hope I’d clung to in my darkness, and hearing her voice and feeling her touch had been enough to break through the black walls surrounding me.

  She’d saved me in that moment. Only to break me a few moments later.

  “Clear something up for me, Walker. Are you most mad at her because she applied to the internship, lied to you about it, might take it, or won’t be here for the summer as planned?” Garth asked from across the campfire. We were on night watch again, and I thought he’d been asleep for a while.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Garth,” I replied, shifting into a more comfortable position. “In case you missed that the past fifty times I’ve told you that today.”

  After leaving Rowen’s apartment and remembering my truck was a few hundred miles to the east, I’d pulled out my phone and did the unthinkable: I called Garth Black for a favor. He drove straight through the night, picked me up at the gas station I was camped out at, and managed to keep his mouth shut for the first half of the trip home. The second half, he hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut and I’d answered too many of his questions. I had only told him about Rowen’s internship, but I regretted giving him even that much information.

  He hadn’t stopped playing drugstore psychologist since we’d gotten back to Willow Springs. Thankfully, Dad and Mom had taken one look at my face when I came through the front door and not fired off question after question. They let me have the space I needed and let me get back to my everyday routine. But they would pretend with me but only for so long. I expected Mom to be camped out on the porch swing, or Dad to invite me to go fishing, any day. They were fine giving space, but they weren’t fine sweeping and keeping dirt under the rug.

  “Sure you want to
talk about it. You’re Jesse fucking Walker. You’d talk your way through the phonebook if you could get someone to listen to you.”

  “Let me clarify. I don’t want to talk to you about Rowen.” I’d avoided saying her name as much as I could. Each time I said it, I felt the way I did then: like a knife had been driven through each of my lungs. I hadn’t tried contacting her yet because I didn’t know what to say. I’d told her I needed time to work some things out, and I had yet to work anything out. I couldn’t call her just to say hi and not expect her to ask questions. So I hadn’t reached out to her yet, but she hadn’t tried reaching out to me either.

  I didn’t know why she hadn’t. Maybe she was doing as I asked and giving me the space I requested. Maybe she was angry at me for storming out that night—which, by the way, she had every right to be pissed about. Maybe she felt guilty for the things that had happened. Maybe she was done with me. There were dozens of maybes, but the not knowing was the hardest to bear.

  “Why not? I’m the perfect person to talk to because I don’t talk to anyone else. You don’t have to worry about me gossiping like an old biddy. I’m able to offer unbiased, third-party perspective that you, my friend, are not able to get on your own.”

  I sighed. Garth wasn’t first person I’d choose to go to with a problem, but he was the only person for miles, and I knew from experience he wouldn’t shut up until I gave him something. “I’m not mad at her, Garth. I’m more mad at the situation.”

  “What the hell does that even mean? ‘I’m mad at the situation.’ That sounds like some passive aggressive bullshit or something.”

  So much for a fair, unbiased opinion.

  “I’m not mad at Rowen for applying to the internship. I won’t be mad if she chooses to accept it. I won’t even be mad if that means we’ll barely see each other this summer.”

  “A whole summer without sex? And that wouldn’t straight up make you want to pound something into smithereens?” Garth quirked a brow. “Hell, Jess, I’d be mad for you if you got the Charlie-Bravo all summer.”