Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
NIALL
It’s hard to keep my eyes off her.
Whenever we’re in the same room, my gaze inevitably drifts over to Jade. And when we’re not, I’m thinking about her. I’m wondering how she’s feeling and if she’s holding up okay.
I’m hoping the next time I see her, I’ll be met with a genuine smile instead of the small, tight one she pastes on when she’s struggling and doesn’t want me to know.
I could attribute it to simple concern for my sister’s best friend.
I could say I’d be worried about anyone who’d been through the same things as Jade.
But I’d be lying to myself if I did.
The protectiveness I feel for Jade is more intense than anything I’ve felt before.
Whenever she looks sad, my mind races with ways I can try to cheer her up. Another crossword book. A new Kindle so she doesn’t have to use my old one. Her favorite meal—I remember Shea mentioning how much Jade loves grilled cheese with bacon and tomatoes, so I’ve stocked up on enough ingredients to feed a small army.
I’m like a guard dog stationed on the bedroom floor, ready to leap into action at the first sign of another nightmare. At the first terrified sound, I’m up and perched on the side of the bed, holding Jade’s hand and murmuring soothing reassurances like you’re safe and I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you .
When I even think about what those monsters did to Jade, my fury is so intense, I’m breathless from it. And I’m struck with a rabid need to do anything to keep her safe.
It’s not just the protectiveness, though.
All the things I liked about Jade before are still there, just a hundred times more. How smart she is. How she’s quietly funny; teasing me with a tiny, quirked smile and a sparkle in her eyes. How inquisitive she is, always wanting to learn something new.
I like how she asks thoughtful questions and really listens to the answers; not drifting off halfway through or getting impatient like a lot of people do.
I like how kind Jade is. Generous. Even though she’s struggling to get through her own trauma, she offered to help us get ready for launch, insisting she wanted to keep busy.
Not that I’m letting Jade get up on a ladder and paint—she’s still a touch too pale and shaky in my opinion—but if putting together a bookshelf helps distract her, I’m all for it.
And that’s something Jade definitely needs. Distractions.
In the short time Jade’s been here, I’ve quickly noticed her little habits—fussing with things until they’re arranged just right, cleaning the kitchen multiple times a day, checking the locks three times before she goes to bed—but I haven’t said anything about it. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable about something that’s clearly out of her control.
Last night, as I watched her straighten the books on my shelves again under the auspices of looking for something to read, I wanted to hug her so badly. I wanted to smooth the fine worry lines from her forehead and reassure her that the shelves looked perfect. That it was okay to relax.
But I’m not sure I’ve earned that privilege. A hug when she asks is one thing, or when she wakes from a nightmare, but to do it spontaneously? No. Not yet, at least.
Maybe in time, now that we’ve talked things through. Now that I’ve apologized again and reassured Jade that I never blamed her. Now that the uncomfortable tension between us is easing.
I hate that I made Jade feel that way. That I contributed to the guilt she carried for years. Seeing her cry and hearing her tell me in that sad little voice that she thought everything was her fault… it was awful. And something she shouldn’t have to deal with on top of everything else.
So, distractions. And maybe sooner than later, as I’d originally been planning.
After staring at my computer screen for the last few hours, a small stress headache has taken root, throbbing dully behind my eyes. I’ve been scouring the map, searching within the radius we think Jade might have traveled after her escape, noting every building that could possibly be the one where she was held.
Jade is hunched over the laptop Matt gave her, frowning at it, her brows arched into an unhappy V. She makes a small sound of dismay that has me asking, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh.” She sets the laptop on the coffee table and turns to face me. “It’s nothing.”
“Jade.” My tone is gently commanding. “It’s not nothing. Tell me. Please.”
Eyeballing the laptop perched on my lap, she says, “I don’t want to interrupt your work. Bother you.”
What Jade still doesn’t get is she’s not interrupting me. And she’s not a bother. Anything that affects Jade is my priority.
“You’re not.” Setting my own laptop aside, I move over a couch cushion so I’m closer to Jade. “I wouldn’t mind taking a short break. Talk to me.”
“Well.” A little sigh huffs out. “I’m just worried about my bills. I know in the scheme of things, they aren’t as important. But…”
Taking her hands in mine, I urge her on. “They are important. It’s your life. What’s going on? How can I help?”
“I have everything set up to auto-pay from my checking account. But since I’m not working, it’s going to run out. I could transfer money from my savings, but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to do that if someone is watching my finances for activity. Even if I do, I’ll run out eventually and I’ll go into default. My rent, student loans, car payment…”
I could kick myself for not thinking about this earlier. But at least this is an easy fix. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How?”
“I’ll get Matt to arrange payment directly. Just give me a list of all your bills, and I’ll make sure everything is paid.”
“Niall.” Brows furrowing, she asks, “How are you going to do that? Without accessing my accounts?”
“I’ll cover it, Jade. Don’t worry.”
“Cover it? With what?”
“My money.”
“Niall.” And there’s that stubborn look again. “You can’t do that. You’re already letting me stay here, and your company is helping, and?—”
“Jade.” I squeeze her hands softly. “You know I have the money. After my parents… Shea and I are both comfortable. And I saved all my hazard pay. So I can afford to help you with this. I want to. Let me take one weight off your shoulders.”
She stares at me for several seconds before letting out a heavy sigh. “Okay. But it’s just a loan. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” Not if I can help it. An unhappy result of my parents’ death when I was twenty-three and Shea only eighteen, we received large payments from the company whose driver hit them. A delivery driver drunk at four in the afternoon, slamming head on to an oncoming car… the company was more than eager to offer us something so Shea and I wouldn’t sue.
Not that I would have; a lawsuit wouldn’t have brought my parents back. But the money they offered covered college expenses for Shea, so we accepted it.
Jade raises her eyebrows at me. Her lips curve slightly. “You’re already planning how to avoid me paying you back, aren’t you?”
“No.” As she eyes me skeptically, I amend, “Maybe.”
Shaking her head in smiling admonishment, she sighs at me. “Niall. What if I want to pay you back?”
Rather than debating it, I change the topic. “Now that we’ve got that figured out, how about a break? Something to eat? Maybe a movie marathon? I can make grilled cheese again. Or we could get pizza. Whatever you like.”
Her expression brightens, but fades just as quickly. “What about your work? Do you need to finish it? I don’t want to keep you from getting things done.”
Suddenly I’m very aware that Jade’s hands are still in mine, soft and warm and delicate. She’s close enough to see the tiny flecks of green in her eyes and the faint spray of freckles across her nose. Her hair falls over her shoulder, a shining curtain of gold and platinum and red.
She looks so pretty and sweet and there’s this cautious hope in her eyes, like she really wants to spend the evening watching movies with me. Everything else I thought I might do tonight —a second workout, more studying maps, double checking our weapon supply lists—is pushed aside.
I hold her gaze. “I can finish it later.”
Yes, it’s important, especially searching for the facility where they kept Jade. But if this will make her happy, distract her from the unpleasant thoughts in her head, help her feel safe… that’s important, too.
So we end up on the couch with a veritable buffet of snacks on the table in front of us. I recruited Xavier to run into town to pick up the snacks, and he came back with three heaping bags full of them—twenty different candies, ten bags of chips, two boxes of microwave popcorn, plus ingredients to make nachos and mini pizzas and pigs in a blanket.
“You said to get some of everything,” he said defensively as I eyed the mountains of food. “So I did.”
But I’m not complaining. Not when Jade laughs at the enormous selection and it’s the happiest she’s sounded since she got here.
And I’m definitely not complaining when she actually digs in to the food instead of picking at it like she usually does.
When she insists on turning the AC down so she can cuddle under a blanket, and she tucks it over both our legs with a happy sigh, the last thing I feel like doing is complaining.
We start out with one of Jade’s favorite movies, 13 Going on 30 , and midway through I can’t help teasing, “This thirteen-year-old girl wants to be thirty? So she has to work? Pay bills? That doesn’t sound very fun to me.”
Jade turns toward me, her leg brushing against mine, and smirks. “I seem to remember Shea telling me that Big was one of your favorite movies as a kid. That you were obsessed with finding a machine just like the one in the movie. You can’t tell me that movie and this one aren’t basically the same.”
Shea . I’m going to have a word with her about appropriate stories to share with her friends.
“They aren’t the same,” I retort, even though now that she’s mentioned it, I’m realizing they are pretty similar.
“Really?” Her lips twitch. “How are they different?”
“Well.” I cast about for a second. “ Big was about toys. 13 Going on 30 is about a magazine.”
She gives me an is that all you’ve got look. “Fine,” I grumble, trying to hide my smile. “They’re really similar. But in my defense, I didn’t want to be older so I could go on a carnival ride. I wanted to be old enough to join the Army.”
A sad expression moves across Jade’s face. “You wanted to join ever since you were a kid, didn’t you?”
“I did. My grandfather was Army, and my dad really wanted to enlist, but he had a heart murmur. Nothing serious, but enough to keep him out. Growing up, I’d hear stories about my grandfather; all the brave things he did. My dad was so proud of him. I wanted to do the same thing. Travel and protect people. Protect my country.”
“Your dad must have been so proud of you.”
A shaft of sorrow spears through me at the loss that’s never fully healed. But I smile as I answer, “Yes. He was. Especially when I finished Ranger school. I’m really glad he got to see that before…”
“Oh, Niall.” Jade touches my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“You didn’t.” At her doubtful look, I explain, “Yeah, I miss them. And there are things I wish my dad could have seen. Me becoming a Green Beret. Joining Blade and Arrow. But then I think… he does know. My parents are watching from somewhere, and I know my dad is proud of me.”
A sheen mists over her eyes. “He is. He has to be. Everything you’ve done…” A little sniffle, and then, “Are you okay? Not being a Green Beret anymore? I’ve thought about it ever since… I just know you loved it so much.”
Oh.
This feeling in my chest.
In the midst of everything Jade’s going through, she’s worried about me. Has worried about me.
Did I make a terrible mistake keeping her at a distance?
But she’s looking at me with those big blue eyes, so concerned, and I don’t want her taking on that guilt again, so I quickly assure her, “I’m okay. Really. I won’t say it wasn’t hard at first, but I don’t regret leaving. Shea needed me. And now… it all worked out. I’ve got some of my teammates with me again. And I have a new team.”
“So you’re happy here? At Blade and Arrow?”
“I am. It’s the best of both worlds. I get to help people, I have my team, but I’m not traveling all the time. I get vacations. If I want to visit Shea, I can. Or she can come here. I can see the people I care about more.”
What I think but don’t say is, if I wasn’t at Blade and Arrow, I wouldn’t have been able to help Jade. She wouldn’t be sitting next to me, close enough that I can smell the soft floral scent of her hair. I wouldn’t feel her hand on my arm.
Jade goes silent, just looking at me with a pensive expression. Finally, she says quietly, “My parents were never proud of me.”
What? That can’t be possible. How could they not be proud of Jade?
“I know.” She somehow reads my mind. “Shea didn’t understand, either. But my parents… they’re nothing like me. My mother cares about social events and wearing the newest designs and playing tennis with carbon copies of her at the country club. The idea of getting an advanced degree? Working? Being single over thirty? She can’t understand it.”
With a sigh, she continues, “And my father; he thinks I’m a disappointment. In his mind, I should have gotten a bachelor’s degree in art history—not to get a job, but so I could sound educated at museum benefits. I should have gotten engaged in college and married right after. Not to just any guy, but one he approved of. Rich. Connected. And then stayed home and spent all my time looking pretty and having babies I’d pass off to nannies. Just like my mother did.”
Shit. A flare of anger heats my chest. The way Jade talks about her father thinking she’s a disappointment… It’s not right.
“It’s okay.” Jade lifts her chin. “I’m glad I had nannies. They were smart and well-traveled and they’re the ones who made me dream of other things. By the time I was ten, I knew I wanted to be something different. My mother’s life seemed so empty. Her entire identity is being my father’s wife.”
That’s definitely not Jade. If we were married, she’d have her career, her own interests, and we’d share them with each other. I’d work on crossword puzzles with Jade, and she’d trawl through vintage comic book shops while I search for rare editions to add to my collection.
Not that we’re getting married. It’s purely hypothetical.
Yanking my mind away from that tangent, I ask, “How did they react? When you told them your own plans?”
A smile lights her face. “Not well. They said they wouldn’t support me financially if I did it. But I didn’t care. I got scholarships and loans and worked part time so I could go to Brown instead of staying in Texas where they wanted me. And then I paid my own way through PA school at George Washington. And when I graduated and told them I was staying in DC with Shea, I think they gave up trying.”
Jade pauses to inspect my face, and I must not be hiding my feelings very well because she gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s fine, Niall. Don’t look so mad. I’ve accepted it. Now, I see them occasionally and we just talk about my mother’s parties and how well Bell Pharmaceuticals is doing that quarter. Then I go back to my apartment feeling completely certain I made the right decision.”
“You did.” I hold her gaze. “But it had to be hard. Going out on your own like that.”
“It was. But it taught me how to be strong. Independent. And confident in my own decisions. So I’m glad I made the hard choice.”
Every time I think I can’t like and respect Jade more, she proves me wrong.
There’s a moment when a dozen things I want to say get stuck in my throat.
“Okay.” Jade’s voice pitches up, signaling a change of topic. “I’m ready to finish this movie. And I know it's your turn to pick, and you like all those superhero movies, but”—her eyes widen hopefully—“maybe we could watch Bridesmaids ? Please?”
Right now, Jade could ask to watch The Sound of Music —which my mom and sister tortured me with several times a year until I had literal nightmares about it—and I’d agree cheerfully.
Jade tilts her head, her gaze narrowing. Then a wicked little smile curves her lips. “Unless you’d rather watch The Sound of Music ? I seem to remember Shea telling me how much you love it?—”
Shea! She’s getting coal for Christmas this year.
Without thinking, I loop my arm around Jade’s shoulders, giving her a little side hug. “That’s okay. Bridesmaids sounds perfect.”
A millisecond later, I think, shit. I touched Jade without asking; aside from holding her hand I haven’t done that, I don’t want to trigger her.
But then she leans against me and rests her head on my shoulder. With a smile in her voice, she says, “Don’t worry. I don’t like that movie, either. All the singing. And those creepy puppets? No thanks.”
That feeling of rightness comes over me again.
Like all these years, I’ve been waiting for this.
But it’s the wrong time. It’s not what Jade needs.
I need to do the right thing.
Then Jade tilts her head to look up at me, and there’s a softness in her gaze that makes me wonder.
Maybe I should stop making excuses.
Maybe I should let Jade decide what she needs.