My heart is practically galloping in an odd mixture of joy, celebration, and empathy. Jace Wilder is crying in front of me. When I draw him near, from instinct alone, and his head rests on my chest, the tears turn into sobs, and his whole body starts to convulse, like he’s letting out all this despair he’s been keeping inside. This turmoil inside him that’s been festering for ages is leaking out, no, pouring out now, and it’s coming in the most unexpected form. Tears, weakness, shame, but mostly exposure. And I’m celebrating because it’s something I never ever thought I would see from Jace Wilder. It’s touching me everywhere, sending shoots of happiness through me because there’s no denying this is exactly what he needed. What we needed.
He’s mumbling over and over how sorry he is, and that he’ll never hurt me again, but he’s not perfect, he’ll screw up but, oh, please, just give him another chance. It’s heart-wrenching, yet I’m smiling. Grinning. He’s a pathetic, sobbing mess, but I believe every word he’s uttering. At least, I want to believe it so badly that I find myself soothing him, and telling him, I know, it’s okay, I will give you a chance. Because aren’t I? In a way, I’ve given him a huge chance these last couple of months.
He glances up then and breathes in deeply several times. “What?”
“I’m giving you a chance, Jace. Okay? I said I never want to experience that heartbreak from you again. I don’t want you to give up on you, or me, or us, and the only way to prevent that is to never give you a chance to have anything to give up. But as soon as I let you in, just a foot in the door, you were all the way back in my life, Jace. Can’t you see that? I can’t stop it, even if I try. So, we’ll do this thing, okay? Unless I banished you from sight, doesn’t it feel a little bit inevitable?”
He smashes his mouth to mine in that instant, and my heart thuds wildly with nostalgia, love, and terror. It wants to surrender to Jace again, but I’m fighting it down, holding it back, and keeping myself from the fire. It’s hot, but I’m not going to get burned this time.
My first cross meet of the season is a success. I get first place. Not by much, and no records, but it’s my first individual collegiate cross country win. Officially, it’s called a “scrimmage” because it’s not part of our conference schedule, and we race teams from different divisions. It’s on our home course, and I won’t get another shot at the record until the conference championship, since we’re hosting it.
Lexi wants to celebrate my win, but I’m not feeling it. I’ve been beating all my teammates at workouts, so I expected to be the top runner on our team. There weren’t really any standouts on the other teams today and the win doesn’t seem like a big deal. I would have been disappointed if I hadn’t won, but I’m not elated that I did win. It’s sort of depressing. To be honest, I think I’m just down because no one has found Wolfe yet, and it’s been over a month since the attack. Detective Marshall keeps calling it an assault, but that makes me think of the other path it could have taken, which involves an additional adjective, and I do not like going there.
Finding Rex wasn’t much of a help, and Detective Marshall hasn’t called with an update in a while. I’m beginning to think they gave up already, and Wolfe Jenkins will be out there forever, while I’m living in fear he’ll return at any moment, ready for round three. Even Clayton hasn’t called recently. He continued getting in touch a few times to check up on how I’m doing, and I appreciate that. It shows he’s man enough to let go of his pride at being turned down in order to follow up with my well-being. I wonder if he heard about Jace and me, but it doesn’t really matter.
Jace and I are together, I guess. It’s different though, really different. It’s cautious, at least on my part. Jace seems to get that I want to keep this relationship at arm’s length. I said it was inevitable, and that he’s all the way in my life now, but that’s only superficially. Yeah, he sleeps over every night, and probably will until Wolfe is found. And yeah, we talk all the time and hang out, but there isn’t much showing up randomly to see each other, or unplanned romantic gestures. Jace is playing off of me, and I’m glad he gets me and knows that if he gets too carried away I won’t like it.
He’s probably still winding down after his game this afternoon, so I decide to head to Shadow Lane for dinner with Gran. I’m sick of cafeteria food and Lexi’s threatening to drag me out to something or other after her dinner date with Brax, so it’s best I get a good meal in me before she and Gina bring out the tequila bottle again.
Gran’s made chicken pot pie and lemon meringue cake, two of my favorites, so I’m immediately suspicious. She’s doting on me tonight and is asking me all kinds of probing questions about life instead of launching into a tale about one of her recent adventures with her BFF Lulu.
“Okay, Gran, spill,” I finally interrupt after she starts inquiring about my insomnia, and whether Jace sleeping over every night helps. Do we cuddle? She wants to know. The woman’s endearingly obnoxious sometimes.
Gran stretches her arms out in front of her like she’s getting ready to exercise and then places her chin in her hands and gazes at me. “I’m getting married.” She delivers it just like that and we stare at each other for a solid minute before I can say anything.
“To Wallace?”
“Yes! To Wallace!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up. “Who else would I marry?”
I shrug. Okay, so I thought this might happen one day, but you just never know with Gran. “When did he propose?” I ask, desperately trying to remain calm.
“Yesterday.”
“Is your last name changing?” I ask.
“Heavens to Betsy, no! Bernadette Barker sounds hideous. No thank you. I’ve been a Jones most o’ my life, and your Gramps would turn over in his grave if I gave up his name, bless him.”
“Bunny Barker has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Gran shakes her head and points at me. “Not much is going to change, you hear, and certainly not my name.”
“You’re getting married, Gran,” I remind her. They’ll be living together. But I can’t bring myself to ask where they’ll be living yet. The idea that she won’t be on Shadow Lane, where I’ve lived my entire life, is too painful. “When’s the wedding?” I ask instead.
“We’ll see,” she says with a shrug. “We’re just doing a small thing. It’s the second time around for both of us, after all.”
I’m helping Gran clean up and getting ready to head back to purple house when she throws me even farther off kilter.
“You know,” she muses, handing me a dish to dry, “we could do a joint wedding.”
“Huh? Is Lulu engaged too?” It wouldn’t surprise me if they came up with some sort of scheme to get engaged and married at the same time.
“No, silly! I mean you!”
I almost drop the plate. “What?”
“You and Jace! You two will be getting married soon, maybe we could have it next summer after he graduates.”
“Okay Gran, I’m leaving now,” I say, hoping to brush it off and let her laugh like she didn’t really mean it. But she doesn’t laugh, just shoves some leftovers into a bag and sends me on my way, a devious twinkle in her eye, making me wonder if she knows me at all. Doesn’t she remember what he did to me less than two years ago? Doesn’t she understand that we’re together because, well, because it’s harder not to be? For now, that’s the case, but I’ll only be able to keep it this way for so long. I’ve just got to be able to keep my heart safe until he graduates.
For some odd reason, I find myself walking to Jace’s apartment instead of purple house. I’ll drop off the leftovers, and tell him about Gran. He’ll understand why I’m a little, I don’t know, shaken. It’s cool, I’ll get through it, but changes to family dynamic are hard for me. They always have been. No one answers when I knock on the door, but it’s open a crack so I decide to go in and drop off the food in their fridge. I’m leaving a sticky note on the kitchen counter when Jace’s bedroom door opens, but it’s not Jace who comes out.
It’s Veronica Finch.
She startles and stops walking, and her expression is pure guilt. “Oh, hi Pepper,” she squeaks.
“What were you doing in Jace’s room?” I’m not even pretending this is a pleasant conversation. I’m ready to attack, or defend, whatever the situation calls for.
She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. It seems a little fake, the whole guilty act, and I’m not sure why. “Oh, umm… well, Jace just left to meet you and he told me, to, um, get dressed and leave.”
I stare at her. Hard. Is she messing with me?
“What? He said what you guys have isn’t exclusive. You can’t get mad at me,” she protests, suddenly gaining confidence.
I tear past her and swing open Jace’s door. I haven’t been in here since he broke up with me. He still lives in the same apartment, and it’s been hard for me to come back. We’ve been meeting at my place. I walk around, actually sniffing the air for any clues. I can’t believe this is happening.
There are several framed photos of us on his dresser, and vaguely, I wonder if he just put them up, or left them there all this time. One is just of me, and it was taken this summer. I don’t remember him taking it, but my head is back and I’m laughing at something. Nothing could hurt me then. And nothing can now. But then I hear Lizzie, Frankie’s girlfriend, from the hallway.
“Veronica,” she says angrily. “What are you doing here this time?”
“What do you think?” Veronica responds snobbishly.
Lizzie responds, but I can’t hear her. I’m about to go out there, to find out what Lizzie meant by “this time.” Has Veronica been here before? But as I’m leaving, my foot catches on something, and I glance down. It’s a lacy thong. And it’s not mine.