Chapter 75 Jett
Chapter seventy-five
Jett
Unanswered calls and texts, along with the guilt that weighs my heart down like a boulder, have quickly become the bane of my existence.
I miss her.
That’s no revelation. I feel like I’ve spent more time missing her than having her.
Before walking into my parents' home, I pull out my phone, checking for a response that I know, deep down, won’t be there.
It never is, yet I consistently check anyway.
The hope I feel is being crushed each time there’s nothing there; it doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of the punishment I deserve.
“Jettson,” my dad’s loud voice calls out in an annoyed tone as I enter through the threshold.
“Hey, Pops,” I reply, making my way into the living room where all of my family is gathered, and I take a seat on a chair in the far corner. Alone.
I look over everyone with their significant others. My mom and dad have each other. Ander has Via, as well as a baby on the way. Hell, even my younger sister's boyfriend is here and has been adopted into the family.
Then there’s me. Just me. The guy who blew his chance with the woman who lit his life on fire and knows it. The guy who tried to take on the weight of the world and managed to let everyone he loves down. The sole reason a life was taken. Almost her life.
Had Maverick not stepped in and saved her, she’d be gone. He’s the hero of this story, while I’m the villain, just like Izzy said.
I deserve this fate.
I’ll never be able to thank Maverick for doing what I couldn’t. I would’ve laid everything out for her, including my life. It’s nothing without her anyway.
I am nothing without her.
Every moment, every breath, and every dreadful day is only a reminder of what I’ve lost.
My mom thinks I’ve sunk into a depression, whereas I know for a fact I’ve only accepted my reality for what it is.
“Thank you all for agreeing to talk to me––”
“Jett, cut the shit,” Ander says, cutting me off mid-sentence.
“You’re family. This was never your burden to carry alone, brother.
I mean, hell, this all trickled down from you helping with Liam.
” Ander glances at Via at the mention of his name and squeezes her hand before continuing, “None of this is on you, Jett. The only thing that’s on you is that you didn’t come to us sooner.
We’re all in this together. We should have always all been in this together. ”
I nod, not having the words to respond.
Part of me knows he’s right, but the guilt that haunts me doesn’t let me believe it.
Things could have been so different had I spoken up sooner, put my pride aside, and let them help. Yet, I was arrogant. I tried to handle it alone. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
Maverick’s death will always be blood on my hands, and we all know it.
Releasing a sigh, I tap my fingers nervously on my knee before speaking, “What you’re all agreeing to do in order to save me from this shit, I can’t ask of you. It’s everything you’ve all—”
“Jettson, you listen to me,” my mom demands with a curt tone. What the fuck is up with everyone interrupting me today? “Son, this is just a house. Just property.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t ‘mom’ me, not on this. There’s no argument. It’s final. We’re putting the ranch up for sale. You’ve done all you could do; this should never have been on you alone.”
I remain silent for a moment, letting her words and their sacrifice sink in. It guts me. This place is all I’ve ever known, and we’ve all worked so hard to keep this place afloat. To think it’s all for nothing is a lot to accept.
Before I can speak, they all begin to converse amongst themselves about Real Estate Agents and market prices. I decide my words aren’t necessary, so I listen for the better part of an hour.
This is happening.
I know my family is taking it in stride, but the fact that I’ve let them down destroys me.
I’ve let her down, too. In a way from which there’s no coming back. That’s the part I’m not sure that I can live with.
While they’re all talking about the present and the future, I find myself consumed by thoughts of the night Liam died. Haunted by the past.
That was the start of this nightmare. Maybe I’m not the cause at all—he is.
Of course, he is.
He was an evil son of a bitch.
But something still doesn’t add up. I know Tony came after me for the “favor” he believed I owed him, but how did they know about Izzy? How did they gain access to the ranch?
What the fuck am I missing?
Racking my brain, trying to figure out how this all came to be, a lightbulb suddenly switches on, and it all makes sense.
I shoot up in my chair, gaining the attention of Ander and Via. Their conversations dwindle down from confusion as they take me in, and I manage to get Ander’s attention and nudge my chin toward the back porch, signaling for him to follow me. He does.
Stepping outside, I begin to pace.
“Jett?” Ander says my name as a question, confusion etched in his tone.
“I finally get it. How the fuck did it take me so long, Ander? She almost died because I couldn’t put the fucking pieces together!” I ramble the words, rushing them out faster than my brain can process.
“Whoa... What are we talking about exactly?”
“This entire time. This entire fucking time, I couldn’t connect the dots. How Tony and his gang knew about Izzy, what she meant to me. How they gained access to us so effortlessly, and how they knew about things on the ranch. When the answer was always right under my nose.”
Another look of confusion passes over Ander's face, but I can’t bring myself to continue to look at him. I’m enraged. My pulse is erratic, I’m sweating, and I swear if I allow myself, I’ll explode right here on the spot.
“Who?” Ander asks firmly, finally catching on.
I take off, running toward the workers' quarters, fueled by my anger. From the shuffling behind me, I can tell it’s also clicked for Ander, and he’s with me.
Bursting into the bunkhouse, it doesn’t take me long to spot him among all the guys. Our eyes connect, and by the expression on his face, he knows that I know.
Fucking. Mark.
Striding for him, I don’t say a single word. Neither does he. The tension in my body and the fury painted on my face say more than any words can right now.
Mark retreats until his back meets the wall. All the other guys quickly scatter, exiting the bunkhouse.
“J-Jett, t-they gave me no choice. I still owed Tony. They threatened me, I swear, there was nothing I could do. I’ve been so worked up about this that I started using again, which means I owed him more.
” He pauses, swallowing audibly as his eyes meet mine, pleading for forgiveness that he won’t receive.
“I only gave them info; I wasn’t there that night. I s-swear, man.” Fuck his words.
My fist connects with Mark’s jaw, and I watch as he stumbles to the side and tries to recover.
“No choice!?” I shout directly in his face. “You were treated like a brother to us, Mark. After all the shady shit, we still gave you a chance. We took you in. We gave you a home. A job. A fucking family. We helped you to get clean.”
I throw another punch at his face, and he falls to the ground this time. Crouching down, I pull him up by his shirt until our eyes meet.
“That day, I called you, desperate for help. I knew you had connections, but I also thought I knew where your loyalty was. SHE. ALMOST. DIED. BECAUSE. OF. YOU,” I growl, slowly enunciating each word.
Pulling my fist back, ready to land another blow, Ander grabs my arm, stopping me. “Jett, don’t. I know you’re seeing red, but—”
“Damn right, I’m seeing red! I’m gonna kill this motherfucker!” I try to wrench free, but Ander tightens his hold.
“You can’t, brother,” he says frantically. “Think of Izzy. I know she’s pissed, but you can’t make things right if you’re rotting in jail for the rest of your life.”
Izzy…
Her beautiful face. Her sharp, feisty tongue. Those sweet lips, saying my name. Her giant heart that is always only thinking of others.
I don’t deserve her. Part of me thinks I never did. But fuck, if there’s even the smallest chance I can make things right with her, then I’ll take it. Ander’s right—this isn’t the way.
Forcefully, I release Mark, letting him fall back to the ground with a grunt.
“I’m so sorry,” Mark says on what seems to be a choked-back sob, but I throw him a glare that screams, Don’t you fucking dare.
Storming toward the exit, I hear ruffling behind me, and Ander shouts, “Get up, get your shit, and get the fuck out!”
I don’t bother looking back.