I See You

  His admission surprised me, and I wondered what they had been fighting over in the first place, but I let it go when he continued talking.

  “I vowed to myself that I would protect people instead of hurt them. That’s why I became a Marine. That’s why I plan to go through the academy to be a police officer. But the smallest thing could still set me off. Do you know what it feels like to constantly have anger simmering in your veins?” he asked. “It’s sickening, and it’s dark. So, yes, my mother was crazy, but she was right. It wasn’t until one night at a party with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen that I realized that, and finally understood what she meant. Because this anger inside? It’s dark. And you, Aurora? You’re good and you’re light, and I knew that from the moment I saw you; just like I knew what would happen if I was allowed to touch you.” Like he had that first night a year ago, he pressed his hand to my chest and whispered, “My dark would stain your good . . . but I couldn’t walk away from you.”

  I placed my hand over his, and said, “You’re more afraid of your anger than I ever could be, even knowing what I do now.”

  Jentry looked like he was going to disagree, so I pressed harder against his hand and spoke over him.

  “Do you see me?”

  His eyes searched mine. “I’ve always seen you.”

  I released his hand to place mine on his chest, and whispered, “Just as I have always seen you. Nothing about what you told me has changed anything.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted, then fell. “It doesn’t matter, because we both know what happens from here.”

  “You want me with Declan to protect me from you.” It wasn’t a question. “All of this . . . all of this pushing me away has been you trying to protect me.”

  Everything I always felt from him swirled between us: love, need, passion. And all of it he was trying to hinder. His face pinched like he was in pain before he admitted, “I can’t ruin you, Aurora.”

  My eyes shut as a shaky breath forced from my lungs. The war my heart had been in since Jentry had stepped back into my life was coming to an end. I could feel it. My body, mind, heart, and soul were all so exhausted from fighting each other.

  A few difficult words would lead me back to a certain future, one my entire being rebelled against, but one Jentry was set on me living.

  A few easy words would send me to an unknown future. One I craved with every piece of me, and one that would undoubtedly be the biggest struggle of our lives.

  “Don’t move,” I told him gently, and turned to make sure he was still standing there before walking out of his room and into the living room, where my craft projects were still laid out.

  A lump formed in my throat as I walked over to what I needed, and knelt down on the floor.

  My eyes followed what I was doing with rapt attention, as if I was afraid to miss a single second of the process in ending this final battle.

  Futures are uncertain, unpredictable, like the inky water that had spilled across the pure, white paper. Nearly imperceptible ripples had moved and flowed until a unique stain formed. The ink was permanently, irrevocably embedded in the surface.

  From that very first night, Jentry had been a tidal wave of ink branded into my soul, staining me with our complicated, devastating story.

  And it was beautiful.

  If only I could make him see it that way, too.

  When I finished, I moved back through the apartment slowly as I let the weight of my choice wash through me, but I knew in my soul that this was right.

  We had pushed and pushed—trying to force each other back or away for one reason or another. But even though futures were uncertain, I knew that a future without Jentry wasn’t a future at all.

  “Take your shirt off,” I demanded as I rounded the corner into his room again. My voice was hoarse with emotion, so there was no force behind my demand, but Jentry still shrugged out of his shirt.

  His brow furrowed when his shirt fell to the floor and his dark eyes darted over my face quickly. “What—”

  Before he could continue, I stepped up to him and pressed my right hand to his skin, transferring a layer of paint from my hand to his chest, just over his heart.

  He tensed for a second before relaxing. His tone was a mixture of amusement and confusion when he asked, “What are you doing?”

  “We’re done. We’re done pushing each other away, and you’re done trying to get me to leave. You have to see that by now nothing you can say will make me go.” I looked up into his eyes when I took my hand away, leaving a white handprint on his chest, and said, “Stain me, Jentry; I don’t care. I’ll do it right back.”

  The words were barely past my lips before his mouth was on mine. My hands slid from his shoulders up to his neck in a feeble attempt to hold on to him as he forced me back toward the bed.

  Our movements were frenzied and uncoordinated as we hurried to remove our remaining clothes, all the while we fought for control of the kiss and to stay upright as we crawled onto the bed. But like our first night together, all time seemed to slow once the last piece of clothing had fallen to the floor.

  We stayed kneeling on the bed, watching each other and refusing to let go of one another as our rough breaths filled the room.

  What could have been seconds or minutes later, Jentry asked gruffly, “You understand what you’re doing?”

  I couldn’t help a brief smile. “I’ve known from the beginning.”

  “Then you know what this means.” He leaned forward to pass his lips across the base of my neck, and a small shudder moved through my body.

  When I spoke, my words came out breathy and soft. “It means you’ll stop trying to make me leave.”

  A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I swore if I ever got another chance, I would never let you go. We do this, I’m not letting you go for anything.”

  Another smile touched my face as my gaze darted over the white streaks of paint from his neck down to his torso. Lifting my hand, I pressed it to the original handprint. “You know, that sounds like another chance for me to leave,” I whispered teasingly. “I’m not worried about my heart, Jentry. I gave it to you long ago and I’ve never regretted it. We do this, I’m showing you why you deserve everything.”

  He captured my mouth in an unhurried kiss as he wrapped me up in his arms and gently laid me on the bed, and my body tingled in anticipation as he slowly moved to hover over me. Because every touch and movement and brush of his lips and stroke of his tongue against mine was soft, soft, soft . . . and I knew him.

  I had always known him.

  And I knew what came with his soft.

  Our kiss never faltered as he settled his body between my legs, and I moaned into his mouth when he pressed his hard length against me. His hands ran down my body lightly, tenderly; every few inches his fingers tightened for a brief instant in a way that promised what was to come . . . that made me want to beg for it.

  He spread my legs more, then wrapped his large hands around my hips and slowly, oh so slowly, tightened his grip as he pressed the tip of his length against my entrance.

  My fingers curled against the comforter as I fought to keep my pleas silent, but his name flew from my lips when he pushed into me quickly, roughly.

  His dark eyes held mine as he moved inside me, alternating between hard and fast pounding, and long, slow strokes. All of it made it hard to remember how to breathe and sent warm shivers down my spine.

  I had fantasized about this man and this time with him for a year, and now that it was here, I was worried I would wake up.

  But no matter if my eyes were opened or shut, all I saw and felt was Jentry and this moment. The way his breath felt against my skin, the way he felt moving inside me, the way his fingers felt gripping me—as if he was afraid to let go—the way his eyes pierced mine and demanded every unspoken word. All the soft with the hard. And all of it, everything, was perfect.

  He released his firm hold on me and curled over my body; his hips slowed and moveme
nts became more controlled, but no less powerful. His hand slid tenderly across my skin to cradle my neck as the other clutched at the bed beside me.

  His eyes searched my face as he lowered his mouth to mine. “Keeping you forever, Aurora.” His lips brushed against mine once, twice . . . “Need you to fucking breathe.”

  I whimpered against him, against his kiss, and slid my hands around his head to feel his buzzed hair under my fingers when he deepened it.

  If he only knew how much I needed him—but he was currently taking my breath away.

  I broke from the kiss, but didn’t move away. I pressed my forehead to his and held his stare as I fought to catch my breath . . . and prayed that this moment wouldn’t end.

  My body trembled and stomach tightened as each thrust brought me closer and closer to the edge. I was on fire, and soon it felt like we would both be consumed in the flames we had created.

  Those dark, dark eyes burned with so much passion when my mouth fell open with a soundless moan and my body shattered beneath him.

  When my shaking calmed, he pressed a soft kiss under my jaw and whispered, “Beautiful,” as his pace quickened again.

  I wove my arms around his back, and held on to the man I loved as tightly as I could, and tried to memorize the feel of him beneath my fingertips. Tried to memorize the way the muscles in his back gently bunched and relaxed as he made me his, then tensed and shuddered when he found his release inside me.

  Jentry hovered above me for several seconds then slowly lowering himself onto me, and something about the weight of his body made all of this real. Made it final. I knew later we would have to deal with all the difficulties again, but in that moment they didn’t exist.

  I trailed my fingers lazily over his shoulders and back, then up to his buzzed hair and back down again.

  “I have waited so long for you and for this, Jentry Michaels.”

  He lifted his head so his dark, smiling eyes were piercing mine. “Would’ve waited forever.”

  “Yeah. But you also would’ve kept talking yourself into reasons to make me leave.”

  “Of course I would have,” he said honestly, then rolled off me, but pulled me with him until we were on our sides. “I wouldn’t know how to let you go now, Aurora, but the thought that I could hurt you will always haunt me.”

  “You won’t—”

  “You can’t know that,” he argued gently.

  “I can.”

  He smiled sadly as he trailed his fingers along my jaw. “Even then, that still means Jessica . . .”

  “And dealing with Linda and facing Declan and the rest of the Veils after everything that’s happened for the rest of our lives.” I laughed softly and searched his eyes. “I know, Jentry. Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but figuring out how to start our lives will be the most difficult. I knew that when I chose you.”

  Jentry’s hand paused for a second, then his thumb brushed across my lips. “Again.”

  I thought over his short demand, but his meaning made sense soon enough. And though I tried to keep a straight face, my mouth kept pulling up into a smile. “I think I fell in love with you the first time you tried to make me leave you.”

  His body shook with his silent laughter. “Yeah?”

  “No.” I gave him an amused look as I thought back to that night. “No, it was that first time you told me that you weren’t letting me go.”

  Jentry’s eyes swam with regret. “If only we had been talking about longer than that night, we could have skipped a lot of bullshit.”

  “It would have been easy,” I said as I curled closer to his body, as if I needed the protection his arms and this room could bring. “But life isn’t meant to be easy.”

  24

  Present Day

  Aurora

  I glanced at the bookshelves as Jentry and I hurried to leave the apartment the next morning, and asked, “Where did you find those? They’re beautiful.”

  His face fell, and for a while he didn’t respond to me. It wasn’t until we were in the car on the way to the hospital that he finally murmured, “One of the guys on Dad’s crew helped me make them.”

  I turned quickly in my seat to look at him, and stared blankly for a few seconds. “You made those. The bookshelves.”

  Jentry nodded slowly. “I used to work for my dad when I was in high school. Dec did, too. He could have built shelves if you’d asked him to. Declan only deals with the business side now and hasn’t done any of the manual stuff since we graduated from high school. Neither had I, which is why I had help.”

  “Jentry . . . thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to go over every detail of the shelves, but couldn’t seem to figure out how to now that I knew that Jentry had done all of that for me. “Just, thank you.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “You needed shelves so your books wouldn’t just stay boxed up in the closet.”

  “But those . . .” I trailed off and shook my head. “Those were exactly what I described, and they’re—” Jentry’s phone began ringing, and I watched as his face fell into an unreadable mask when he pulled it out to check the screen.

  His eyes darted up into the rearview mirror, and then the side mirrors before focusing on the road again.

  I didn’t have to ask who it was when he ignored the call and dropped his phone into the cup holder, but my suspicions were confirmed when his phone started ringing again a minute later.

  “Have you heard from her since you made her leave the apartment last week?”

  Jentry’s nod was faint. “Every day. Just after I get to work, and right before I get back to the apartment. It’s possible she’s waiting somewhere around the apartment or my dad’s office, but I don’t know. It’s not like Jess to stay in one place for long unless it’s around our mother. She can’t afford it, and she can’t afford to follow me like that. She needs— She just can’t.”

  “Have you answered any of the calls?”

  “She’s just taunting me. She’ll get tired of it when she doesn’t get what she wants.”

  I waited for a minute to see if he would continue. If he were anyone else, I wouldn’t pry. But this was Jentry and I needed to know what to expect with Jessica and their relationship. “Why do I have a feeling it’s not money that she wants this time?”

  “She wants me to get mad.”

  “Oh.”

  “Like I said, it isn’t like her to stay in one place, and she can’t afford to follow me. But if she wants me mad, she’ll do what she thinks she has to, which is why I’m not ruling it out.”

  “You said that the other night, that she wanted to make you mad. I don’t understand why—”

  “You don’t?” he said with a laugh. “After everything I told you last night? About my biological father, about what I’m so afraid of? Jessica uses that against me. She acts like I think I’m better than her; says I’ve been running away from who I am because I didn’t end up where she and our mother are. My anger . . . she loves it. It fuels her sickness because it makes her think we’re on the same level. She gets this twisted high just seeing me get mad.” There was a short pause before he softly admitted, “Jess was there when I found out about her and Declan. I can still remember the way she kept laughing as I beat the shit out of him. Egging me on, asking if I was going to hit her, too, like she wanted me to.”

  “What . . .” I stared at Jentry for a moment, then turned straight ahead, but I wasn’t seeing the road in front of us.

  I couldn’t imagine the girl Jentry was describing. It didn’t fit with the girl I had first run into, or even the one from this past weekend. Who, after being abused, would try to pull that same kind of anger from their brother? Who would try to turn their twin into their abuser?

  “Jentry, she’s—”

  “Insane?” he offered with a sarcastic laugh.

  “Are you sure she isn’t on drugs, too?”

  He nodded slowly. “I was around our mother and her friends enough
that even being that young, I knew the signs. The drugs that they do, they take a toll on you. They would take a toll on Jess, and she’s too obsessed with the way she looks to let that happen.”

  “Why is she this spiteful if you’ve tried to help her? Why hasn’t she let you help her?”

  A weight seemed to settle over him from my questions, and for a while we just drove. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I don’t know if it’s because Jessica feels responsible for our mother, or not. But I know that in those kinds of houses with those parents and those lifestyles, the kids either work to get away from that situation, get sucked into it, or embrace it. Jessica fully embraced that life, thrives in it, and spits in my face when I try to help get her out of it. Honestly, most of my life it’s been easier to try to forget she existed.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw, and let out a harsh breath. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been growing up, and how hard it must be now. I never even had a sibling to fight with, let alone one who tried to do what she does.”

  “I have only ever considered the Veils as family. I still wasn’t okay with walking in on my best friend and twin sister, even if I hardly see her. But they’re the only ones who have treated me like family, and the only ones I’ve ever cared about. You know, that first day I was back here and Mom had dropped all my stuff off at the apartment in that big pile, it threw me off for a second. Because that house was the first place I’d considered home, and suddenly all my shit was just sitting in a pile somewhere outside that house, like she was throwing me out.” He laughed humorlessly as he pulled into a parking spot at the hospital. “And now she’s disowning me.”

  “Jentry,” I said uneasily, “I’ll fix this somehow.”

  “Aurora, she’s not going to, no matter what she says.”

  I grabbed his arm and waited until he was watching me. “You said you did, but are you sure you’ve thought about this? Linda hates me. Even if we get past the initial shock and anger with everyone, you have to remember that your mom will probably always hate me. And your relationship with Declan might never be the same.”