Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
“Hello.”
I watched as Jackson’s face froze while he listened to whomever was talking on the other end.
“Are you for real?”
“Jesus.”
He hung up and looked at me. His eyes looked anguished.
“Jackson, what is it?”
“Chris is dead. He was killed in a motorcycle accident.”
“What?!”
“We have to go.”
The drive back to the base was silent. I looked over at Jackson a million times, but he was a stone man. Completely blank.
“I’m so sorry, Jackson.”
It was like he didn’t even hear me.
He pulled up to our house and looked over at me. “I have to go see Chris’ wife.”
I nodded and got out of the truck.
I was in shock. I went into the house, and Jackson drove off. Ten minutes later, Lauren called me.
“Did you hear?”
“Yes. I can’t believe it.”
She was crying. “Chris has a wife and a toddler.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I guess he went for a motorcycle ride this morning. A drunk driver hit him.”
Tears rolled down my face. “Jackson went over there.”
“Yeah, all Chris’ unit will go over and do whatever they can to help.”
“Lauren, what should I do?”
She sniffed. “Be there for Jackson.”
I spent the rest of the day cleaning, mostly because I had no idea what else to do, and I needed to keep busy. I didn’t hear from Jackson.
I waited until I couldn’t keep my eyes open and then I climbed into bed.
I woke up to the slam of a vehicle door and then a car driving off. The front door slammed open. I listened to Jackson moving around downstairs. Pulling a robe on, I crept down the stairs. He sat on the couch. There was a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam between his legs. He lifted his head and looked at me. His expression was one of defiance and frustration. My husband was extremely angry.
He watched me as I approached. I sat on the couch beside him. I had no idea what to say. I knew grief. Other people talking didn’t help. Talking only helped when the grieving person did the talking. So I put my knees up to my chest and just waited with him. He occasionally took a long drink from the bottle, but he didn’t say anything. He made no move to touch me, and I was pretty sure if I attempted to touch him or comfort him, he would push me off.
His voice jarred me awake. “I went through BUDs with Chris. It was Stubbs, Bixley, Chris, and I. We were all in the same graduating class.”
Stubbs and Bixley were the two men that had been killed on Jackson’s bad tour. Now Chris had died. These men were his family. These men were not just co-workers. He loved these men as much as I had loved my parents or my granny.
He continued. “I was his best man at his wedding. And today, I had to sit with his wife while she cried and cried. All because some dumb fuck was too drunk to call a cab.”
My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t imagine her level of pain. I couldn’t.
“It’s one thing to die in the line of duty, but now his death has no meaning. Now his little daughter is going to grow up without her daddy. And tonight his wife is alone.”
That is what death is like. That first night is the worst. The pain, the disbelief. It’s almost too much to bear. I knew exactly what Chris’ wife was going through tonight. My heart ached for her.
“Chris loved her so fucking much,” Jackson looked at me. “I remember the first night they met. We were at a bar. We had a weekend off BUDs, and he saw her sitting at a table with her girlfriends. He looked over at me and told me that she was the woman he was going to marry. He knew from the moment he saw her that she was different.”
Tears burned my eyes. I nodded.
“What Chris and Dena had between them was real. It wasn't make believe. They were the real deal. Before them, I never really understood what love was. But they knew.”
Tears streaked down my face, which I hastily wiped off.
He finally looked at me. “I think you should leave me alone.”
This is the man who had pushed Harper away after Bixley and Stubbs had died. Grief was a powerful emotion. It made you feel crazy. When you're grief-stricken, you don’t want to be around anyone, yet you don’t want to be alone. It was also one level above anger and fear. Today he got a pass on everything. Whatever he thought he wanted, he would get from me.
“Okay.” I stood up.
He watched me. “Just like that?”
“Just like what?”
“You’re going to leave me alone?”
I stood there in front of him, unsure what to say. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
He gave a dark laugh. “You’re not going to fight me on that? You’re not going to tell me that I shouldn’t be alone?”
“I think you know what you need right now,” I said quietly. “I love you, and I just want to give you what you need.”
He glowered at me. “You just think you love me.”
“No, Jackson. I do love you.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know who I am. So how the fuck can you say you love me?”
Jesus. This was a dark side of him that I had never seen before. “Then tell me who you are.”
“That would be a bad idea.”
“You could tell me anything, Jackson, and I'd still love you.”
Our eyes met. He grabbed my hand and tugged me, so I was standing in front of him. He looked up at me. The man was drunk but coherent.
“Why did you trust me today?”
It took me a moment. “When we jumped out of the plane?”
“Yeah.”
“Because you asked me to.”
He frowned. “But you were so scared. I could feel your entire body shaking.”
“You asked me to jump out of a plane with you. I knew it would be fun for you. And you asked me to trust you, so I knew we'd be safe. ”
“You thought we would die. Yet you still flung yourself out of a plane because I asked you to?”
It felt like a trick question, but that is precisely how it happened. “Yes.”
“Why do you trust me?”
“I believe in you. When you tell me that you'll keep me safe, I believe you.”
He stared up at me, his eyes searching mine. And then he reached up and tugged at the belt of my robe. It fell open. My stomach fluttered as he tugged me so that I straddled him.
His hands went up to my breasts, and I arched my back as his mouth sucked on my nipple. He pushed open his pants and then he was pulling me onto him. I cried out as I felt him push inside of me. I put my hands on his face. His red eyes stared up at me. So serious. So intense.
With his hands on my hips, he slowly began to move me up and down on him. It felt wrong yet so right. After such a tragedy, it was a moment where we both needed to remember that we were still alive. We needed to connect. Our eyes locked as I slowly moved up and down on him. I was becoming distinctly out of breath.
His big hands moved to my hips, helping me lift up and down. My hands pushed into his hair. My mouth on his. Kissing. He tasted like bourbon and Jackson. I couldn’t get enough.
“Oh God,” he groaned, as he pulled me down harder on his thick length. “Why do you love me?”
Green eyes looked up at my face.
“What?” I was almost delirious with desire. I couldn’t think.
“Tell me why.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and put my forehead against his. I was trying to think of a coherent answer. “I love how kind and protective you are. You make me feel safe.”
I continued to move on him, moaning at the sensations that coursed through my body.
He watched my face, and his pupils were so wide his eyes look almost black.
I put his face in between my hands. “You’re the most amazing person I know. I trust you.”
“But why do you love me?”
“Jackson,” I was breathless. “I don’t understand.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t know, I just do.”
One strong hand came behind my neck, pulling me down to his face. His lips were on mine. “Tell me why.”
I felt my whole body tightening. My climax roared towards me. I fought it as he moved beneath me. I opened my eyes and looked into his. I could barely speak. Thinking of that little kid who was repeatedly told that he wasn’t worthy of love.
“No one deserves to be loved more than you.”
“If you knew who I was, you wouldn’t love me.”
I teetered on the edge, as he pumped up without mercy into me. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you.”
I held his face in my hands, and we looked into each other’s eyes as he drove me off the edge. I cried out hard, shutting my eyes as waves so intense washed over me, I couldn’t even think.
“Look at me,” he begged. “Look at me.”
I peeled open my eyes and focused on his face. There he was.
“Jackson,” my voice sounded strangled.
“Oh God, Emily,” he winced, his green eyes were wide on my face as he found his release. We stared at each other. And then, as if he couldn’t take the intensity between us, he wrapped his strong arms around me and buried his face against my neck. “Emily.”
My arms wrapped around his head. We stayed like that for a long time. Holding each other. Without meeting my eyes, he lifted me off him, back onto shaking legs.
Without looking at me, he said, “Now you should leave me alone.”
I nodded, my cheeks wet with tears. “Okay. I’ll be upstairs in bed if you need me.”