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Jackson
I LOOKED AT ROSE, NOT liking the paleness of her skin, the vivid purple circles under her eyes, the way she was rubbing her clammy palms together the whole ride over to Robert’s. She didn’t say a word, just stared out the window with wide, broken eyes.
Daniel had cleared my schedule and told me, no matter what happened, Rose couldn’t be alone. And I’d not put up a fight.
I’d had to take her into Daniel’s personal suite where he had his own private shower. She’d stood so still under the spray, letting me wash the sweat off her, not saying a word when I’d dried her off and helped dress her in a pair of jeans and a simple white blouse. She’d brushed her clean hair back with slow, almost robotic movements before turning and walking out, heading to my car.
I was scared out of my head because this wasn’t my girl. Rose needed to snap out of it, but I didn’t know what to fucking do, and it felt like I was dying inside.
“H-here,” she said on a hiccup, pointing at an old-looking federal high-rise, Thorne and Thorne stenciled on the window in big, blocky white letters.
The place looked like a fucking prison. Big and imposing, gray-bricked and old as hell, a stream of bodies moving in and out of the building. All sorts of fancy cars were along the front, most of them black and sleek and fast.
I parked, turning toward her, studying her profile, hating the way her pulse fluttered like panicked moth’s wings at the side of her pale throat. She blinked, looking over at me, and her brown eyes were shattered, already broken. I was fucking pissed as hell.
“You can’t do this, Rosie. You can’t walk in there looking like they’ve already got you. You hear me? You don’t even know what this—”
Her jaw trembled, but she didn’t cry and I wasn’t sure whether that was better or not. She was cold. Almost lifeless.
Yanking her hand into my lap, I squeezed her cold fingers tight, trying to give her my warmth. Trying in some damn way to let her know she wasn’t alone in this. That I was right fucking here.
“I wish with all my heart that I didn’t know. But I know, Jackson. Because this is Robert. This is what he does when he’s got my balls in a vise. He’s found something and he’s going to steal—”
Clenching my jaw, I leaned forward and kissed her. Hard. Teeth banging together. But I needed her to feel something other than this damn fear that was choking the life out of her.
She shivered.
“I’m here. You’re not alone anymore. You fucking hear that?”
She winced but said nothing.
“Tell me you hear it!” I barked, not wanting to scare her but needing to snap some life back into her.
My pulse quivered when for a brief second fire flowed through her pretty brown eyes. If it took making her angry at me, then I’d fucking do it. I didn’t give a shit. Fury was better than the nothing there’d been.
“I hear you!” she snapped back, trying to yank her hand away, but I clutched on tight, refusing to let go.
With a growl, she shoved the door open and punched out. And my heart hurt, hurt like hell to see her walking away from me with speed, each step an obvious sign of rage and agitation.
But I wasn’t going to let her walk away from me.
Running up to her, I grabbed her hand. Again she tried to wiggle out, but I held on tight, using my strength, crushing her fingers.
“Fuck no,” I snarled when we got to the door. “You don’t get to do this, Rosie. Not now. Not ever. You hear me? Whatever that dick says, I’m gonna be there. So just fucking deal with that shit.”
And now I was mad as hell. I was the one tugging her inside, the one barking at the pretty receptionist behind the desk that we were there to see Robert Thorne.
The dark-haired and perfectly manicured princess took one look at me, smile freezing on her face at whatever she saw on mine before pressing a button and speaking in low tones.
“They’re here,” she said.
Rose was shivering again, but she wasn’t trying to shove me off her anymore. She was clinging, wrapping her fingers tight around my wrist, moving into me, and my heart trembled.
“He’ll see you now,” the receptionist said, eyeing Rose with something that almost looked like pity.
“C’mon,” I growled, heading toward the slick-looking silver elevators. Everything in this fucking place reeked of money. The white marble floors. The real potted plants. The sitting area that looked professionally designed.
Dickheads like the Thornes used that money as power, intimidating people into believing they weren’t good enough to even sniff their shit.
“What floor?” I demanded when the doors slid open like silk.
Her brown eyes were wide, but color had returned to her cheeks. She was looking at me like she wanted to apologize, like she was humiliated, and I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear those damn words come out of her. Because none of this was her fucking fault. I was mad as hell, mad that she’d tried for a second to cut me out but trying to channel that rage into something more productive.
Rose needed me right now.
“Fifteen,” she murmured before squeezing her eyes shut.
Grunting, I slapped the top floor. The elevator doors closed with a soft whoosh, immediately gliding up.
“Jack... Jackson, I’m sor—”
I shook my head. “Don’t apologize for them, Rose. Ever. Whatever that dick has planned, I promise you, we’re going to be okay. Got it?”
My chest was heaving, starting to fucking hurt, making me brush my hand over it.
As though she knew, she moved into me. Hesitantly, unsure whether she should. And then her palm was on my stomach and I was sighing, dropping my jaw onto her hair, breathing her in.
And she sighed back, curling into me even as I felt the tension holding her spine taut like a bowstring.
We didn’t say anything else, just held each other.
The door opened less than a minute later. Expecting to arrive on a busy and hustling floor, I was surprised when the door parted and revealed the top floor to be nothing more than one massive office.
Robert glanced up from behind an impressive mahogany desk, never even bothering to stand as he flicked a wrist at us, summoning us to him like a pair of dogs. Standing over his shoulder was a woman with the kind of body only gained from living in the gym, dressed in a tailored, steel-gray power suit, hair up in a chignon, dainty glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
Robert was wearing a small smirk as he leaned just slightly toward her.
It was obvious they were fucking. And my lip curled with disgust.
Rose shivered, and I was terrified she might actually start crying, and swearing to God I would cave cock bag’s face in if she did and he so much as twitched.
But then Rose transformed. She stepped out of my arms, her chin held high and fire burning in her eyes again as she glared down her gorgeous nose at him.
And I wanted to fucking fist pump when I saw it. I didn’t know if she’d done it because of me, because of what I’d said downstairs, but she wasn’t going to give it to them. I loved her so damn much, but my body was on edge, my stomach whipping with thick bands of fury.
Grabbing my hand, she held tight to me as we walked silently toward him.
I immediately noticed a manila folder on his desk and my pulse hammered on the back of my tongue. Rose had been right, the fucker was definitely up to something. And I was sick to my soul about it.
“Sit,” Robert said with a tight purse of his lips toward the tufted leather chairs.
Moving like a regal lioness, Rose took a seat, still holding my hand as I followed suit just a second later. Heart racing, mouth dry, muscles starting to pump and flood with endorphins, I waited to see what kind of shit Robert was playing at. I didn’t have to wait long.
He leaned back in his seat, shoulder brushing the woman behind him. She didn’t move back, and I knew my suspicions were right. The two were humping like fucking rabbits, probably right on this desk. I cracked my knuckles.
“I want you to sign away all rights to Adam,” Robert said, voice even, smooth as honey. Like he was just shooting the shit, talking about the game last night.
A tiny gasp spilled off Rose’s tongue, but her cheeks blazed and she leaned over. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”
I fucking loved when she got dirty. I wanted to devour her lips, wanted to worship her.
“Oh, little girl.” Robert grinned, eyes dancing like he was getting a fucking hard-on. “You really wanna play this game?”
Don’t say shit. Don’t fucking say shit. I had to let Rose handle this. Because I knew she could and I was too mad right now. I’d screw everything up if I opened my mouth. I wouldn’t be able to keep this civil. I was about five seconds away from completely losing my shit. So I breathed and forced myself to stay seated.
She laughed, tossing her head back, lips curled up into a snarl. “The mere fact that you’d even ask tells me you’ve got shitall—”
Flicking the file at us, he tipped his chin down. “Go ahead, little girl. Open it. See if I really do have shitall.”
Don’t open it, Rosie. Don’t do it. I wanted to scream the words, but my tongue was swollen, my throat tight. And I watched, sweat breaking out on my brow and sliding down my spine, as she flipped it open before gasping, covering her mouth. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance down yet; all I could see was my baby literally shattering right in front of me.
And finally, finally I looked and everything inside me shut down. Went cold.
Blank.
There was one picture inside. It was dark, but there was just enough light to highlight the frame.
Her and me.
In the park.
Rose on her knees. Looking up at me with worship in her eyes. My cock out, hanging by her mouth. Love burning in my eyes.
A terrible sound erupted in the room. Like an animal dying, filled with so much pain that my soul fucking hurt. My hands were shaking, adrenaline riding me like lightning.
Robert looked at me with a proud, cocky grin. “In a park no less. Oh, I got you, little girl. There isn’t a court around that’ll let you keep him now. So we can do this the easy way, or I’ll splash your shame—”
Echoes of her dad saying almost the same damn shit punched me straight in the chest and I jumped to my feet, chair slamming to the ground. I wasn’t thinking. I was mindless with fury.
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, I slammed the fucker to the desk. Shaking. Roaring.
Voices crying. Small hands tugging at me.
But I was a beast.
There wasn’t a man in me. Not anymore. All I knew was I was gonna kill him.
“Jackson, no, baby. No.”
I heard her in some distant echo. I wanted to stop, but the fire was burning through me, making me its slave. All the times I’d been unable to help her, to save her, all that pent-up rage, it was pouring out of me now. It was a consuming fire, obliterating any and all reason.
Robert was slapping at my hands, but my grip was absolute. My body burned to do it. My fists ached to smash his brains in.
“Don’t do it, Jackson. Please don’t do this.”
My baby.
My lover.
So broken. I couldn’t hurt her too. I couldn’t do that to her.
“They’re not worth this,” she said softly. “I love you.”
I shuddered, lashes fluttering, grip starting to go lax.
For her.
For her.
Cage the beast. Put it away. Far, far away. I’d scared her. I’d fucking scared her. My stomach heaved.
And then.
“What the fuck!”
And the animal in me, it came alive again. Kill! Kill! Kill! It hammered at my skull and I was fucking mindless. Turning, I saw Kyle and I just lost it.
He was staring at me like I’d lost my damn mind, a folder in his hand, sheets sliding toward the ground. All of it playing in my head like slow motion. I could feel myself walking toward him, grabbing him, lifting him high in the air and shaking him violently. But I was completely outside of myself too.
“You fucking scum!” I spat. “It wasn’t enough what you’ve done. What you did to her. You, who knows her fucking story. I should kill you. I should fucking end your miserable, pathetic life!”
“Jackson, stop!” Rose screamed. “Just stop!”
A million different emotions scrawled over his face. Shock. Rage. And then he glanced over my shoulder and the man blinked, jaw going slack.
I looked at Rose. She was hugging her arms to her chest. Sobbing. Not looking at the picture. Or Robert. Or even Kyle. But at me.
Like she didn’t know me.
Couldn’t recognize me.
My head spun. My chest hurt so damn bad right now. And just like that, the fire burned right up.
“You’re not fucking worth it,” I said, looking back at Kyle. “None of you are fucking worth it.”
I tossed him to the ground and didn’t look at her as I walked to the elevator. I punched the down button, needing to get out of there.
“Oh, you’re fucking dead!” Robert hissed behind us. “You’re both fucking dead. I’ll ruin you. I’ll end you. You’re never getting Adam back.”
Rose walked to me, small hand shaking as she placed it on my lower spine. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her touch me. The doors swooshed open and I jerked away as if burned, moving to the farthest side of the box, looking straight ahead and trying to breathe through the rage still fisting me tight.
I saw the hurt flash over her face. The tears. But she didn’t come back to me. She walked in, standing on the other side. So damn small. Tiny.
Broken.
And I was breathing hard. Staring straight ahead. Counting down each floor. She hated me. What kind of fucking animal was I?
I couldn’t even look at her, couldn’t see her look at me like that again. I’d become that guy. Another man who’d let her down. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell had I done?
It was over.
It was over.
She would leave me now. And I’d done that shit to her. I’d done this. My goddamn temper. My breathing grew harsh, the panic eating me up inside. She’d lost her boy because of me.
The elevator stopped moving and the doors opened. Fifth floor.
And the panic gripping, slicing through my heart, it snapped again as I stared at some nameless pussy in a suit trying to hop in with us.
“Find another ride,” I barked.
The slick-haired douchebag blinked as though startled, looking between the two of us, but he didn’t come in.
I felt her looking at me, gorgeous mouth turned down, tears still streaming from her pretty eyes. She reached out a hand to me, then stopped and curled it back tight into herself.
And I wanted to be sick, wanted to get the fuck away. Needed to, in fact.
I didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead when the doors opened and I moved to the car. She followed, so quiet. So damn quiet.
And I wanted to bridge this gap between us. Wanted to fall on my knees and beg her forgiveness, but I didn’t know how.
I’d lost my shit. Her respect for me was in tatters. I’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in the tremor of her voice.
We got in the car, strapping in.
“Jack...” She whimpered. “Jackson.”
Clenching my jaw, I shook my head. I didn’t trust myself to speak to her right now, because if I did, I was gonna lose it again. I was hanging on by a fucking thread here. I was dying.
I was going to be sick. My hands gripped the wheel tighter as the animal inside me turned into a different kind of beast, using those fucking claws to tear away at me. And each sob that spilled off her tongue felt like a blade to my chest. My body moved on autopilot, driving us back to her apartment, parking before I knew it.
I stared straight ahead as the heat continued to consume me.
“I... I...” She hiccupped. “I can’t... we can’t—”
And I knew it was over. Knew she was going to cut me off at the knees, cast me adrift. And the threads snapped.
I dropped my head to the steering wheel, a sound like a dying animal strangling me. I’d lost the best damn thing in my life, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to survive it, but then I thought of my mom and I knew I needed to. Somehow I had to.
Tremors wracked me. And I waited, waited for her to open the door and leave me forever.
“I’m sorry, so goddamn sorry,” I sobbed, shoulders heaving. “So fucking sorry.”
“Jackson.” She said my name on a wail and then her soft, soft hands were on my shoulders and she was tugging me back. “Look at me. Please look at me.”
And it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life, but I made myself face the music. I had to see her say it. Had to hear it from her lips. A fucking, goddamn sadist, that was me.
Her beautiful face was a blur as I turned to her, a broken shell of a man.
Lemons and flowers punched me straight in the chest, my eyes memorizing each gorgeous line of her face. The graceful slope of her button nose. Her high cheeks. Gorgeous, soft mouth.
My body heaved with my sobs, and I shook my head because I didn’t want to hear this anymore. I didn’t want her to say it.
“Love me, Rosie. Please. Don’t give up on me.”
Her face crumpled and then she was moving over to me, grasping my face in her hands and squeezing me tight.
“I do. With all my heart. But you... You pushed me away, why? I didn’t do anything.” She sobbed and it broke me, tore me in fucking two.
Grabbing her tight, I pressed her to me, my heart a flayed and bloody mess.
“I lost my shit, Rose. Seeing what he did, taking something beautiful and twisting it into something perverted. Ugly. Doing to you what your goddamn dad did. I just couldn’t... couldn’t think straight anymore. Never in my wildest fucking dreams did I think anyone could be that evil. You didn’t deserve that shit, and now I’ve ruined everything for you.”
I have never in my life cried in front of anyone else. But twice I’d done it with her. And this time I really thought I might die from it. There was an emptiness stretching long fingers inside me. My life would never be right without her in it.
“I knew the moment I got the call that Robert had done something. It wouldn’t have mattered what you’d done, baby. Because he had me. Making me go there, it was just so he could see that for himself. The man is a fucking sadist. And I don’t”—she swallowed hard—“I don’t know how, but I’m going to win Adam back from them. But this is you and me. Because you can’t ever push me away like that again, you hear me? You can’t do that. You know my past, you know—”
Grunting, hating myself so fucking much in that moment, I clutched tight to her, as if by holding tight I could make her stay. Never leave me.
“You looked at me like I fucking terrified you. And... I was so goddamned ashamed, I...” I couldn’t keep speaking, the words dying.
Because words weren’t enough for what I felt, this all-consuming sense of failure and loss.
She stilled, shaking her head, tears sliding one after another, slowly down her face; a sad, pitiful sight that hurt me deeply. Breaths coming hard and choppy, I dragged my thumbs down her cheeks.
My Rosie should never cry.
She clutched at my wrists and I expected her to move me back, to tell me not to touch her anymore. But she didn’t. She held me tight, and this time it was her giving me warmth.
“I love you,” she whispered.
A strangled sound vibrated through my chest, that darkness being consumed by hope but terrified to believe it.
She nodded. “I love you, Jackson.”
“Rosie.” My voice broke. “I—”
“Stop.” She covered my mouth with her hand. “And just listen to me. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. And I meant it. I love you.”
“Love you,” I grunted, dropping my head into her hair, bringing her scent into me. “Love you so goddamn much. Love you. Love you.”
It seemed to be the only words I was capable of saying, and she said them right back, holding me tight. Telling me over and over again until finally I knew.
Until finally the cracks began to seal. She kissed me. My face. My cheeks. My nose. Whispered of her love after every one, healing me with her touch.
Making me whole again.