55. Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Four
Jackson
I watch Isabelle through the window as she dances her heart away in her ballet class. She can dance circles around every five-year-old in there, and I’m too proud to act like she isn’t the best in the class. My kid’s a star and it feeds my Dad ego.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I step away from the door before looking down and a picture of Isabelle on Sire’s shoulders lights up my screen. A smile touches my lips at the sight of his contact picture and the joy on my daughter’s face as Sire smiles up at her like he’d go to the ends of the earth for my kid.
I slide my finger across the screen before bringing it to my ear. Just as I open my mouth, he’s already speaking up.
“Is Lis with you?”
“Hello to you too. I’m great, thanks for—”
“Yes or no, Jackson?” he rushes out, his voice wavering.
I feel my brows pull together as I step further away from the other parents. “Is she okay? What’s wrong?”
A loud sigh sounds from the speaker. “She turned her location off, and I don’t know where she went.” The panic seeps from his voice and straight to my bones.
“I haven’t spoken to her. We got into a fight and—”
“What fight?”
I ignore his question because while he was my friend long before I started dating his sister, I don’t like telling people about my relationship issues, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’d hurt me for his sister.
I flip the conversation back on him. “What happened? Why would she turn her location off?” I listen carefully as he recites what I told him to who I think is August.
“Call me if she calls you.” He ends the call with that and immediately I feel my nerves eating at me.
I’ve been calling Lisette since yesterday’s fight, but every message I sent went unanswered and something in my gut tells me something is wrong. Now Sire’s call just confirms my worries.
“She’s so big.”
I look up as a mom from beside me voices. We’ve both been bringing our girls here for years and I always forget her damn name.
“I know, right?” I tuck my phone in my pocket.
“Who are we watching now, Jane?” Another mom comes beside me and I silently thank her for reminding me of Jane’s name.
“Jackson’s baby.” She nods towards Belle as she spins on her tippy toes.
“She’s a natural.”
I smile at her praise.
“She must take after her mom. Was she a dancer?” the new mom asks, and I don’t miss the way she glances down at my left hand.
“Nope, but I like to think I’m rubbing off on her just a bit.”
I turn on my heels at the sound of Lisette’s voice and I let out a breath of relief at the sight of her. She tugs at her sleeves and I feel my brows pull together at how tired she looks. Like she hasn’t slept in weeks.
“Hey, JJ.” She smiles up at me and a smile of my own grows on my face at how pretty she is. She looks a hot damn mess but she’s still gorgeous.
“Hi, Lissy.” My eyes scan her tired face. “Do you have a tracker on me?” I tease but her sour mood doesn’t shift.
She looks over my shoulder and takes a step beside me as she watches Belle twirl around in her pink tutu. “I remember you mentioning when she had ballet practice when you showed me videos of her dancing.” She shrugs. “This was the most expensive studio closest to your house.”
She turns to me now, worry pulling at her brows. “I know you wanted me to stay away from her and I’m sorry for showing up, but I want to talk to you.”
“No, it’s okay,” I reassure her, mainly because she looks sick to her stomach. “I’ve been calling you.”
She nods as she turns back to the window of kids dancing. “Is that the ballet teacher she wanted you to marry?”
I bite back my smile as I follow her line of sight to a woman who doesn’t hold a candle to her. “You sound jealous.” I keep my voice low although the moms around us took their seats again.
“Should I be?”
I feel her watching me carefully and I look back down at her to answer her unspoken question. “We’re good.” I take her hand and I don’t miss the breath that escapes her.
“I overreacted,” I start. “I know you didn’t hit her with ill intent. We should talk, but we’re good.”
She nods in return before kissing my hand. “We really do need to talk.”
I feel my brows furrow as I try to decipher what that means. “Okay…”
She smiles, but it’s clearly forced. “Can we talk now? Before she’s done. I don’t want to wait until tonight when she falls asleep.”
I nod at the seriousness in her tone and guide her out of the building. She’s quiet the entire time, and it isn’t until we’re in my car that she turns to me.
“I have a lot to say so please don’t interrupt me, and if I cry, just ignore me. I’m drunk.”
I go still at her words, but she rambles on before I can question her sobriety.
“I was abused growing up,” she starts and she watches me carefully, but I keep my reaction at bay.
“I always thought my household was normal. Sire lived next door with a worse life. It wasn’t until we visited the twin’s house that our world got turned on its axis. I remember August spilling juice and I flinched when Kat let out a gasp. I prepared for her to hit him and yell at me for the request, but she didn’t. Sire and I were so damn confused by how nice everyone in that house was.”
She shakes her head at herself as she leans against the door to focus on me. “I hit Isabelle out of pure instinct and it wasn’t with ill intent. I didn’t do it because I was mad or to hurt her, but that was my first reaction, and I’m not telling you this sob story to excuse myself but—” she cuts herself off as she tries to find the right words. “I’m not going to go around hitting your kid. I don’t want to. It’s just all I know, you know? It’s built inside me. I know your parenting style is different, and I’m not trying to change that. It was just my initial instinct and at first, I didn’t see anything wrong with it because I’m wired that way. But I don’t want to hit her, and I won’t.”
When she remains quiet I realize it’s my turn to respond. “You’re drunk?”
Her eyes dart between mine and a spot over my shoulder before she picks at her nails.
I take her hand but she pulls away, shaking her head as she focuses on the console between us. “We’re not talking about that right now.”
“I think we should.”
She shakes her head again before biting her nails. “Can you just reply to what I said?” Her eyes meet mine and she looks… skittish.
I keep a careful gaze on her before giving her what she wants. “I don’t expect you to know how to react to everything Belle does the first time. I’ve been raising her for five years and she still does shit that makes me question my entire existence.”
She stifles a laugh and I bite back a smile before continuing.
“She wants you to be her mom and I want that too. That means eventually you’re going to be responsible for disciplining her and under no circumstance are we hitting her. She can be a sassy brat at times, but she’s far from a bad kid and hurting her will never solve anything. I know you whacked her out of pure fear. There was a lot going on and I’d like to believe you wouldn’t hit her as a form of discipline if you had a clear mind. We’ll work around the wires your parents screwed up.”
Another smile grows on her face, but when I notice her picking at her cuticles, I know she wants to add more. We sit in silence and I watch her work up the nerve before she turns to me again.
“I’m probably proving you right, aren’t I?” She looks torn and it truly puts a pain in my chest. “About needing to spend less time with her.”
I shake my head at her. I didn’t mean for my words to hurt her so much. I knew there was no easy way to put it, but it needed to be said. Even if she wasn’t struggling right now, I never introduce my partners to Isabelle. Especially not as early as I did this time, and I’m aware this was different since she already knew my daughter, but we’re moving too fast and Isabelle is getting too excited.
“I didn’t want to be right, love.” I rub her leg, feeling the need to touch her. “I desperately wanted to be wrong. I wanted you to prove I was overreacting. I wanted to grovel my ass off for even suggesting it.” I let out a frustrated breath, angry with myself now. “I’m sorry if that’s what pushed you to drink, Lisette. I have no idea what I’m doing here, so I need you to tell me how to go about these things. When and how to share bad news. How to comfort you.”
She forces a smile now. “Is that your way of saying you’ve never dated an addict? Am I taking your V card?”
I don’t laugh, needing her to genuinely help me here.
Her smile falls in the silence. “This is the worst time in my life, Jackson,” she confesses, and I hate how defeated she sounds. “I’ve dealt with my addiction and depression my whole life, but this is the only time where I felt like giving up for this long. It usually goes away, but it’s not, and I really shouldn’t be in a relationship right now.”
My heart sinks, but I nod in return, putting on a brave face as I force myself to be supportive in any way she needs, even if that removes me from the picture.
“We shouldn’t be together.”
I hold my breath so I don’t speak.
“But I want you more than I want to get high.” Her eyes meet mine and I let out the breath I was holding. “I want to read with Isa every night instead of getting drunk. I want to wake up in bed with both of you, not hungover with a guy whose name I can’t remember. I feel so lost when I leave your house and I know that sounds pathetic, okay? I truly want to die knowing I’m the girl that’s clinging onto a boy, but I’m holding onto the possibility that maybe you’re not a phase. Maybe it’s not just sexual tension. I shouldn’t look for myself in a man, but I’m really fucking hoping you’re not just a man, JJ.”
“I’ll be anything you need me to be.”
“I need solace.” She lets out a bitter laugh, tears building in her eyes.
I take both of her hands and kiss each of them gently. “Then I’ll be that. I’ll be your anchor and Isabelle will be your headache.”
She lets out a laugh and I smile at her before pulling her over the console and onto my lap. I bring my lips to hers and hold her close as she straddles me.
“I can feel your dick getting hard.“
I let out a defeated sigh as I bury my face in her neck. “You’re full of so much shit.” I roll my eyes at her and she laughs from on top of me as she squirms. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to wake it up. Your car is perfectly tinted for car sex.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble before pulling away. “Why do you end every vulnerable conversion with the topic of sex?”
She shrugs innocently. “I’m sorry my daddy issues made me into a whore? Damn, no need to make me feel like shit about it.” She’s clearly teasing and I bite her neck, causing her to squirm in my lap again.
Her laugh sobers before she looks over at me again. “One more question.”
I almost think she’s going to ask if we can have sex but she turns more serious.
“Do you really see a future with me?”
I study her for a beat, but she’s being genuine as she continues.
“I know Belle wants me to be her mom, but those are forever. I’m not her biological mom, so I’m not actually stuck here, but—”
“You’re stuck here,” I interrupt her with a kiss. “My daughter loves you.” I hold back from telling her I love her, knowing she’s afraid of those three words. “I still think we need to take things at a slow pace with her, but you’re stuck here.”
“What do you want?” She bites her lips and I realize she’s nervous.
“You.” I kiss her again but she pulls away.
“For how long?”
I shrug in thought. “What’s your expected lifetime?”
Her brows furrow. “I don’t know. I think my grandma lived until she was eighty.”
“Then I want you for the next fifty-five years. At eighty-one, get the fuck out.”
She breaks into a laugh and I smile into the crease of her neck, kissing her gently. I take in a breath of her, but at the faint smell of alcohol on her, I let out a quiet sigh as I hold her tighter.
“Can we talk about your sobriety?” I kiss her neck gently before pulling away.
She keeps her eyes low but I lean over to catch her gaze. “I want to get high.”
“Okay…” I watch her carefully but she won’t meet my eyes. “Let’s call your brother. You can—”
“No.” She shakes her head and I feel my brows pull together at the sudden rage she takes on.
“You should go to a meeting,” I point out.
“So I’ll go to one, but I don’t need him.”
As I watch her, it’s obvious I missed something. “What happened, Lisette?” I lean back in my seat as I focus on her, taking in the bags in her eyes and the way her hair clings to her sweaty forehead.
She bites at her nails again as her eyes dart between everything but my face.
I pull her hand away from her mouth before holding her face in my hands. “Are you also high?”
She shakes her head and tries to pull away, but I keep her hand in my grasp.
“Use your words and look at me,” I tell her more sternly.
Slowly, her gaze meets mine. “I missed your calls…”
“I know, I was worried.”
“I was high.” She watches me, waiting as if I’m supposed to explode at the news.
I falter before reining in my reaction. I nod slowly, holding my breath so I don’t sigh, not wanting her to think it’s a sigh of disappointment or frustration because I don’t feel either of those things.
“Where are the rest of the pills?”
She looks back down at her nails and as she picks at them again, they start bleeding. “I got rid of them.”
I scan her face, trying to figure out if she’s lying or not, but I can’t tell and I hate that I’m out of my element here.
“I’m going to call your brother and—”
“No.” Her eyes meet mine again, burning with fury. “I’m fine. Do you not trust me? I just told you the truth. I messed up, okay? But I came forward and told you like I said I would. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
I sink further in my seat. “You’re right. I’m sorry, that does count for something, but he’s worried about you.”
“Did he call you?” Her eyes scan my face now like she’s in trouble and I suddenly don’t trust her.
“You need to tell me what happened, Lis. You’re scaring me.”
She lets out a frustrated breath as she rolls her eyes. “We got into a fight.” She pushes the hair from her face before leaning against the wheel. “He wants me on stupid house arrest, but I don’t want to be monitored.”
“He’s trying to help.”
“Stop taking their side!”
I go still as I watch her blow out another angry breath. “I’m not taking sides… who’s they ?”
She rolls her eyes again as she bites at her thumb. “The twins and him .” She shakes her head at something she thinks of. “Just don’t fucking call him.”
“Okay,” I start, more bass in my voice. “I don’t know where this attitude came from, but drop it. Now .”
She hesitates, her brows pulling together and she opens her mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it at my warning look. When she settles back down, I nod to myself, and I don’t know jack shit about drugs, but I think she’s going through some sort of withdrawal. That or she’s a really mean drunk.
“You need to get this together.” I gesture to her frame and a warm pink flushes her face. “I’ll support you however you need me to, Lissy. If you don’t want to call Sire then fine, I won’t mess with your family drama, but what you’re not going to do is mess with my family. If you want to see my daughter, you’ll see her sober. Understood?”
She quickly nods, and when tears start building in her eyes, I immediately regret taking the rough approach.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice breaks before she breaks into a sob. I wrap my arms around her as I hold her close.
“I just want to see Belle,” she pleads.
“You will. Just not like this.” I kiss the side of her head as she keeps her face buried in my neck. “I can have my mom pick her up from ballet, and after we get you sobered up, we can spend a few hours with her tonight.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to inconvenience your mom…”
“You’re not inconveniencing anyone,” I reassure her, but at the mention of her, I feel myself growing annoyed at the reminder of how my mom feels about Lisette and I’m definitely going to have to lie about why I need her to take Isabelle.
Like always, when we fight, she’s acting like nothing is wrong. Instead, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder and sending me food. I’m honestly glad for it because I don’t care to fight with her about Lis, although I’m sure she’ll bring it up soon enough.
Pushing those thoughts away, I kiss the top of Lisette’s head. “She’ll love to see her granddaughter and I want to help you get cleaned up. It’ll only be a few hours.” I recall Belle mentioning how she missed my mom, so it honestly works out for everyone.
She nods in my neck, sniffling quietly. After holding her for another few minutes, she pulls away and I hold her face in my hands as I wipe her cheeks.
“I can get better,” she says, and I’m not sure who between the two of us she’s trying to convince.