Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
I’m tasked with occupying Jesse while Noah checks out the accuracy of the information and his large hand grips mine while we head back to his room.
It’s a mess, although that’s kind of normal for him. The unmade bed still has Bo’s plaid pillow resting against the headboard, his things scattering the surfaces like he’s never spent a day away from here.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Jesse mutters, sitting down at the edge of the bed. His hood is pulled up, the messy ends of his hair sticking out in all directions. He nervously tugs on his lip ring, rolling it back and forth. “I just got excited. I know we need to check it out first.”
I rub his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sure Noah will be able to tell if it’s good.” We stare at the rug in silence, our inner thoughts screaming. “What are you going to do if it is?”
“Leave.” It’s immediate, as if there is no other option. Maybe for him there isn’t. “I tried to wait. To let him cool off, but he hasn’t come back. I just…I just need to know.”
“That he’s okay,” I finish and he nods. His blue-green eyes are darker now. We’re all in pain it seems, but seeing it on Jesse makes me desperate to take it away from him. “I get it.”
It’s as still as I’ve seen him; this contemplative, melancholic man that reaches out for the half-empty bottle of Jack on the dresser and knocks it back, trying to quiet whatever thoughts have taken over his head.
I should probably gently remove it from the room and try to get him to rest, but who am I to tell anyone how to deal with their torment?
Instead, I grip the bottle and take a drink myself. It burns, but that’s okay. Jesse’s wry smile when I return it to him has none of his usual animation behind it. “Shit, I’m a bad influence. Sorry, Em.”
I shrug. “Maybe we deserve a day to fall apart.”
His inked fingers tug at his hood as if he could disappear inside it. His eyes close and he lies back, his large hand going to cover his face, and I snuggle up against his side.
“I think Bo left because of me. He feels smothered here, because of how I am.” Fingers tighten around my waist and I listen as his heart hammers away inside of him.
“I wanted him to let me in and he wouldn’t.
Not at all. He wouldn’t even let me help him change his bandages and the more I saw him disappearing inside himself, the harder I pushed.
Just to tell me what happened, to let me help him. ”
He falls quiet, every muscle in his body strung tight like he’s on the verge of combusting beneath me. “I’m just so sorry, Em. I’m so sorry that the way we tried to protect you both wasn’t enough.”
The slight loll in his words highlights the pain in his voice, his chest hitching with the trouble of trying to hold it in. He’s vibrating with the effort of trying not to shatter.
“Jesse, this is not your fault.” I sit up, tugging on his arm so he’s forced to look up at me.
His seafoam eyes are rimmed in red and pain and he looks so incredibly sad.
“None of it. Bo loves you, he just…” I shake my head.
“They separated us at the end, so I don’t know everything he went through, but…
but I think he’s just not ready for us to see it yet. ”
The reminder triggers Jesse’s muscles to ripple, tightening beneath me with a quick snap like I imagine a snake would.
His jaw clenches, hands covering his face as he groans into them, a broken sound of regret and rage and fucking heartbreak.
If it was anyone else, I’d be terrified to be this close to them when they look so close to losing their shit, but…
But it’s my Jesse, so I ignore my hammering heart and lean forward to take another drink from the bottle.
“Fuck, I can’t lose someone else like this.” His voice is strained now, raw from screaming and the rasp pulls at my heart. There’s nothing I can say to fix it and this is the part that kills me.
Minutes pass by in a thick silence, both of us lost in our own heads.
At least we’re lost in them together, I guess, and that somehow feels a lot less lonely.
The bottle empties a little at a time and doesn't burn as much after a while. The creep of Jesse’s warm hand on my back brings me back from my own rumination and he sits up, hugging me to his side.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t do this with you. I don’t want to make things harder than they are.”
“You won’t. I’m still the same person, you don’t have to tiptoe around me.”
“Don’t I?” He murmurs, brushing back the hair from my face absently.
“All I want is to make you both feel safe again, but all I have inside me is this fucking bloodlust. It’s constant.
Knowing we have Bundy and Eric locked up makes it so hard not to go to them and spend every moment making them scream. ”
I shiver, the picture in my head too conflicting. I’ve seen enough violence, felt enough hurt from the beatings. And yet, I crave the image of Jesse extracting revenge for me. For us.
For every person that was saved.
“I like that idea,” I admit and the rumble of laughter in his chest makes me smile.
“You could join if you want. The whole idea of keeping them alive is to let you and Bo decide what happens next.”
My nose scrunches. “I don't know if I have that in me, but Bo might. I saw a side of him there that I didn’t know existed. He was…vicious. Maybe it would make him feel better.”
A grin cracks across his handsome face. “Maybe. They’ll be kept alive long enough for you both to decide what you want to do with them.” He leans toward me and my body hums. It’s still in awe that this dangerous, beautiful man has his attention on me. “Sometimes violence is the answer, Em.”
I blink, blinded by his presence all over again. Oh, that’s right. I’m sharing heartache with a killer. “I probably wouldn’t have believed that a year ago, but I guess that’s changed now.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “Have you always been so scrappy?”
That familiar bark of laughter makes me smile. “Yeah, I used to get into a lot of fights as a kid. It’s always been a part of me, for better or for worse.”
“As a kid? What were you fighting about then?”
His head tilts. “Anything really. My mom made sure to teach me to stand up for people who couldn’t defend themselves and I really took that to heart.
” Side-eyeing me, he bits his lip, his tongue playing with the lip ring and my stomach tightens.
He’s too beautiful for his own good. “Especially Lily and Noah.”
My eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
He smirks. “He was always a quiet little fuck. Stoic. But he didn’t have that tendency to violence like I had until he was older.
We saw a lot growing up—kind of hard not to with our family—but it put him off until we were teenagers.
He just always took in more, watched and listened instead of bouncing off the walls like I did.
Lily was the same, which is why they got along so well.
And they both had me to beat the shit out of anyone who even looked at them sideways. ”
I can’t help but smile, a surge of affection flooding me for the wild man at my side. Rough around the edges, undeniably, but still so good. “You were their hero. I love that.”
His hand rises from my lower back where it had rubbed small, soothing circles, up to curl around the back of my neck. “I’ll be yours too, Em, if you want. I’ll cube those motherfuckers for you and stack their pieces into cute little pyramids. You’d like that?”
I laugh, the image ridiculous. “That’s the creepiest thing anyone’s ever said to me, but it means a lot.”
His hand squeezes, a reassuring pressure to remind me I’m not alone.
The door opens, Noah’s tall frame filling the open space and we both look up at him. He takes in the sight of us, hanging onto each other, the almost empty bottle at our feet. “It’s ten in the morning.”
Jesse shakes his head. “It’s time to go.”
Rolling his eyes, he steps toward me and I’m once more surprised to feel the tightening in my stomach as I watch him. Some part of me had worried I’d completely lose the ability to feel need. It was such an integral part of our dynamic, I don’t know who we would be without it.
But it’s still there, clearly. His dark hair cutting messily across amber eyes that are fixated completely on me. The black shirt he wears hangs perfectly on the muscles they cover, and I could spend hours tracing the tattoo’s on his arms. Maybe I will, what else do we have to do today?
“Eyes, Em.” I snap them up to his face, catching the small smile there. “What are you two getting into up here?”
“Just talking,” I say, licking my lips. “About when you were kids.”
His eyes narrow as Jesse tightens his grip on my neck. “Is that right?”
“Nothing bad, I swear,” Jesse says. “Just letting her know how I was your knight in shining armor growing up—”
Jesse grins as Noah yanks his hood lower, covering his face and pushing him off the side of the bed. He lands with a thud on the wooden floor, laughing for the first time in so long. Noah grabs my hand, pulling me up and into his chest. “You okay?” His mouth traces my brow, pausing at my temple.
I nod, and it’s true. Right now, for the first brief moment since he stormed the room and saved my life, I do feel okay. And maybe it will only last a few minutes, who knows, but it’s something; the eclipse inside my head isn’t permanent.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
He pulls me closer, tucking my head under his chin. The strong beat of his heart pounds in my ear, a cadence of life, and pushing forward. Even if it sucks. Even if it hurts.
“I love you,” I say, my hand on his back and my other reaching for Jesse. He squeezes it, acknowledging the moment. Noah’s hand on my head grips me tighter. I know he’ll never let me go again, and I like that.
I understand Bo and why he did what he did. But for me? I can’t imagine leaving this behind.