Chapter 28
JAYDEN
With Kailey and Isla’s Thanksgiving gifts in the trunk, I get in the car.
It’s a tradition I started when I was across the country from my sisters and the holiday was one of the few times I got to see them during the season.
I’d take them a gift, so they knew I missed them.
That I thought about them every day. It stuck.
I sit for a moment, contemplating whether now is the right time to give Finley her gift. It’s the cheapest gift I’ve ever bought a girl—mostly because the only women I buy gifts for are Kailey, Isla, and our moms—but when I saw the way she smiled when she was looking, I knew she had to have it.
Taking the small pouch from my pocket, I hold it out in the palm of my hand. “Don’t give me crap, I’m making up for traumatizing your tastebuds with my poor taste in alcohol.”
I figured she likes to try new things…
Thank fuck I ordered the lychee juice as a back up for her, because after a tiny sip of the beer, Finley looked set to barf.
Wide eyes greet mine when I meet her blue stare. Her words from earlier echo a little louder, the same way the weight of her touch still lingers on my chest.
“What is it?” She asks, taking the card pouch from my hand.
“Open it,” I tell her, watching as she follows my instruction.
“Jayden,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with a restrained sob when she strokes over the pearl studded hoops with her finger.
“It’s nothing much, but they’ll look pretty on you.”
In all honesty, she’s the kind of woman who will make anything look incredible. I mean, I’ve barely been able to keep my hands to myself all afternoon. All she’s wearing is a short dress and Elijah’s hoodie, but every time I look at her in his number, something happens to me that I cannot control.
I want to touch. I want to hold. I need to get as close as I can because she is the closest thing I have to him, and somehow, that numbs some of the burning ache inside me.
“I can’t keep them,” she tells me, her mouth twisting in an apologetic wince.
“Of course you can. I bought them for you.” Finley shakes her head, and as a result her silent tears rain onto her hands, making my insides shrivel with the sick sensation turning my stomach. “Why not?”
A shaking hand tucks her thick waves behind her ear, revealing her unpierced lobe. Without moving her gaze from the earrings, she tells me, “I can’t wear them.”
“Do you want to wear them?”
“They’re beautiful.” A sad smile tugs at the corner of her mouth before she finally looks at me again. “God fearing girls… godly girls don’t call attention to themselves with these worldly objects,” she grinds out the words between bitten teeth while clenching her hand around the earrings.
“Bullshit. They’re just earrings.”
An acerbic laugh wracks through her, making it impossible to resist the urge to wrap her up in my arms and hold her to my chest. If I could just absorb her pain, I would drink it all in without a second breath, until I was drunk on it. On her.
“I know,” she speaks into my shoulder. “I know it’s not true. That they’re just earrings. But in Havenview—”
“Fuck that place, Fin.”
What more can I say that I haven’t already said?
It’s all bullshit. Bitter misogynist crap that makes me sick with rage. The thought of someone so perfect and precious believing that they are nothing more than some bastard’s property…
It boils my blood to know that the people who lectured them about being godly, are the same who have hurt them. And I don’t know how to undo any of the harm they’ve caused. If I’ll ever be able to fix it. But I’m a proactive man, and when something pisses me off, I can’t not do something about it.
“Do you want to wear the earrings?” I ask, trying to keep the gravel of my anger off my voice when I tip her chin up with my finger.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go, Lucky.” I pull back and open my door. “There’s a few places here that do piercings.”
“Now?”
“Do you want to do it?”
Clutching the earrings in one hand, she rubs her exposed lobe with the other. “Does it hurt?”
“Umm, well, I’ve never had my ears pierced, but if you need it, they can use numbing spray beforehand. It’s done in seconds. When Isla had her ears pierced it was quick.”
“I’m not a scaredy cat, I just—”
I take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
I don’t make a move until she decides for herself that it really is something she wants to do. As much as I want to stick it to the assholes that have hurt her and Elijah, I’m not going to pressure Finley into anything.
After a quiet moment, she opens her door and gets back out of the car, still clutching the earrings in her hand. I give her a few more seconds in case she changes her mind. When she meanders to the back of the car, I follow her, and we head back into the mall hand in hand.
“Will they use a needle? I don’t like needles,” Finley says, nerves wobbling her pitched voice.
“They used a piercing gun when Isla had hers done.”
“Okay,” she breathes, pausing to watch a kid getting her ears pierced through the store window.
The young girl barely flinches and it’s over without any tears, which sets Finley at ease. With a deep inhale, she pulls her shoulders back before tugging me inside the store.
It takes no time at all for the store assistant to get Finley settled. She’s disappointed when she finds out that she can’t wear the hoops straightaway, however, the small pearl studs that I point out make her smile shine just like the hoops did.
“Oh Lord,” she pants as I lace our fingers together.
Her hands are clammy and softer than Eli’s. They’re way smaller, totally eclipsed by my hold unlike his large ones. Still, that electric warmth that his zapped me with shoots up my arm.
“Don’t let go,” she tells me.
I grip her hand tighter. “Never.”
The assistant gives her some reassurance, showing her how the gun works before marking the spot for the hole.
I’m excited for Finley. It may not seem like a big deal to other people around us, but her pulse is throbbing in my hand with every second that passes, and the store assistant loads the earrings into the gun.
“Ready?” She asks Finley.
Wide blue eyes flash to mine as her hand clenches around mine. “Ready.”
It’s as quick as I recall Isla’s piercing being. And Finley doesn’t flinch once. When it’s done, the warmth of pride that inflates my chest makes it impossible to hide my grin. Especially when the assistant shows Finley her ears and her watery smile trembles with the magnitude of her emotions.
“I can’t believe I actually did it,” she marvels while we walk back to the car. “It feels weird. My ears are throbbing, and my heart is pounding, and it feels so freaking good.”
I’m in awe of her glow. The joy radiating from her is infectious. To the point that I can’t breathe past the fullness pushing at my ribs. I’ve never felt this kind of satisfaction and accomplishment, not even after winning an impossible game.
This girl, though, she’s got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before. And every time I look at her, and she smiles, it feels like I’m closer than I’ve ever been to Elijah. The love she has for him and vice versa is not simply visible, but it’s palpable.
As reckless as it may be, a part of me begins to wonder if allowing myself to care for Finley is how I can love Elijah the way I want to. The way that I need to. That my soul burns to.
“Do you think Elijah is going to be mad?” Finley sticks in place when the elevator doors open onto our floor.
Apprehension tightens her face while I hold the doors open and give her a chance to gather herself.
I’m not sure what happened between the car and now.
Finley’s been chatty since we left the mall, and the drive back here has never been so short and fast before.
However, as she slumps into the corner of the elevator, I can feel the frantic panic building in her.
I feel it as though it’s my insides that are being pulled and knotted in all kinds of directions.
“You can’t be afraid of what others think and feel, Finley. It’s your body and your life. You call the shots,” I tell her, holding out my hand to her. “Saying that, I don’t believe for one second that he’s going to be anything but happy that you are happy.”
I don’t pull back my hand while she attempts to steady her breathing, trying to visibly calm herself down.
It would be so easy for me to go to her and wrap her up in me, shield her from everything the world could throw at her.
But if my family has taught me anything, it’s that protecting the people we love should not come at the cost of their strength.
I deeply believe that Finley isn’t just strong, if she’s given the chance to overcome her fears, she’ll be a force of nature. And I want that for her so badly. So, instead of doing the easy thing, I plant my feet on the ground and wait for her to gather herself.
“You ever get that overwhelming sense of drapetomani?” Finley holds my hand with her narrowed stare.
“Drap—what?”
She chuckles lightly. “Drapetomani. It’s this consuming urge to run.”
“Not really.” Finley flits her gaze to mine. “I’m not a running kind of man.”
“Isn’t that the funniest?” Resting her hand in mine, she takes a step toward me. “You’re not a running kind of man, but you are the fastest.”
“Guess it makes me an oxymoron. Right?”
When she takes another step closer, I adjust our palms until our fingers lace together. There’s a whisper of a smile on her lips as she tips her face up to mine. “Look at you using the big words.”
“I gotta keep up with you somehow.”
The trill of her laugh eases the knots in my chest, making it easier to breathe again while we meander to Elijah’s door. Every particle of the air is still and quiet when we reach it and she turns to face me. Her back presses to the door as we stand smiling at each other for a beat.
I want to ask her if she wants to hang out a bit longer at my place, but at the same time, the silence around us stirs up the worry that’s been simmering in the background all afternoon.
Elijah.
We haven’t heard from him yet, and when I checked my texts, the one I sent earlier is still unread.
Holding out the Apple bag with her phone and the other Air Tags, I give Finley one last once over before I force myself to see her inside and go home.
“These are yours.”
Finley nods, her teeth gnawing and pulling at her lip.
I don’t know what’s going through her mind, but when she throws herself at me—her arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders and her face burying into the crook of my neck—I hug her back as tightly as I can.
With my face smothered in her wild hair, I breathe her into my lungs. So deep, it burns.
“Thank you for today. For everything,” she murmurs, squeezing me tighter while her hot breath seeps all the way to my bones, sending a shiver of longing through me.
When I think she can’t embrace me any harder, her body presses flush to mine while her arms cross around my neck.
“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable yesterday…earlier.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Fin,” I whisper. “It’s just complicated.”
She nods. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Finley peels herself away hesitantly, the same way that I release her slowly.
I don’t know whether we stare at each other for a while or whether time stands still for us because by the time I make a move to leave, I’m craving her closeness again.
Her body touching mine. I miss the heat of her breath percolating into my veins, simmering in my bloodstream as it heats through me.
“If you need anything, you know where I am.”
“I do,” she nods.
I’m tempted to take her hand and tug her back to my place with me.
Maybe I should. I have food she likes; I have books and music and video games.
Hell, I’m sure I have an old Scrabble board game in one of the closets.
She’s good with words, and I bet she could beat my ass.
If she came back with me, she wouldn’t have to worry about tiptoeing around the place.
But Elijah.
Elijah needs her; I can’t take her away from him.
Whether he admits it or not, she gives him a purpose no one else can.
It’s part of what makes me want to care for her more.
To keep her safe and treat her like a goddamn queen.
Because right now, with whatever is going on with him, she’s his lifeline.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell her as the door opens behind her.
Elijah’s standing in the open doorway. His eyes are glazed over red, and his hair is a mussed and knotted nest sticking in all kinds of directions. I’ve never seen him looking so terrible, and guilt is creeping in around the edges of the nice afternoon Finley and I had.
Fuck.
I should’ve checked on him earlier. Especially after the concern she echoed.
Why didn’t I do something then? I keep asking myself as Finley checks him over.
Her hands feeling his forehead before she attempts to brush his hair out with her fingers.
The action causes him to stumble back and I’ve never been so grateful for my speed because I just manage to catch him as he collapses.
His body literally drops on itself. I’ve never seen anything like it. My pulse spikes with an all-consuming fear I’ve never felt before.
“What’s happening?” Finley cries, falling to her knees while I check Elijah’s breathing.
“Call 911, okay?” I direct her, giving her the address before I call down to the concierge and ask them to direct the EMTs to the underground garage when Elijah starts coming round.
Tears track down his temples while I hold his head in my lap, covering his ears in case the sounds around us are too much.
“You’re okay,” I mouth to him while Finley grabs an ice pack from the freezer and brings it over wrapped in a cloth to stop the chill from burning his skin.
“I…I…fine,” Elijah slurs, his words sounding like his tongue is twisting itself around them.
Every attempt he makes to move only makes his body flail as though he’s completely lost his co-ordination.
This can’t be happening. My thoughts tornado into chaos as I recall the symptoms my dad was told to lookout for when my grandma suffered a stroke.
This isn’t possible. Elijah is twenty-four-years-old. He’s too young and too fit to be stroking out on me right now.
Still, the panic wrenches through me, turning over any sense or alternative scenario that flits through my mind.
This cannot be happening.
Not to Elijah.
Not right now.
Not…
Fuck.