Chapter 22 Jesse
Jesse
NOW
My bed is significantly cooler, and as I turn the light off, I find myself wishing I were under a pink quilt instead. Not that I got much sleep last night, considering I stayed awake most of it, glancing over to remind myself it wasn’t a dream.
Maybe I had been afraid to shut my eyes because it was all a dream—she only invited me in because she was drunk.
I toss the covers back, feeling hot in the cold house, even as I lie here in just my boxers.
It’s been five whole days since Penny walked back into my life, and I don’t feel much closer to cracking her open. I thought I was a patient man, but my heart isn’t on board with my head right now.
Logic is fading quickly when she’s around me.
I don’t know what I expected when I came back to North Carolina. I showed up without a real plan. What I didn’t expect was to get tangled up with these two sisters again.
Or to make promises to my old best friend who’s still behind bars.
She probably thought I didn’t notice how distant she was when I came back inside from the phone call—the one I couldn’t risk her hearing. I have no idea how she’d react if she knew I still spoke to Danny. Betrayed, maybe? But the phone call plays in my head as I lie here fully awake at midnight.
“I have one more visitation before Christmas, what’s the verdict man?” he asked. His voice was full of desperation, yet so hopeless that I did something stupid. Again.
“I think I can get her to come,” I said and immediately bit my fist.
In the dark of my room, I run my palms down my face.
Fucking idiot.
That’s what I am.
It’s not like I completely forgot about the visitation or the promise—I didn’t. But there’s been a lot of shit going on. And it’s never felt like the right moment to bring it up with her. Not when I’ve just been trying to keep her from biting my head off.
I can’t throw her over my shoulder and drive her to the prison. I can’t wave a magic wand and heal a ten year wound that I still don’t fully understand between her and her brother.
Logically, I know that. It’s not my place. But at the same time, I’m a confident fool, feeling like maybe I’m the only one who can mend this family.
Because no matter what Penny says or thinks, we are still a family.
And you do stupid shit for your family.
I wake up with my heart racing as Tank barks, palms sweaty, and fumble for my phone in the dark room.
It’s 1:30 a.m.
“Tank, knock it off,” I grumble, squinting in the dark.
Tank barks again, sharp and loud, and it echoes through the hallway outside my door. I close my eyes, hoping whatever spooked him is gone, and set my phone back down, steadying my breath.
But then he lets out a low growl, one I’ve never heard from him, and all the hair on the back of my neck rises.
“Fuck.” I grunt as I throw back the sheets, my bare feet hitting the cold floor.
His growls intensify along with my blood pressure. Something’s not right.
Before I can even find the light switch, there’s pounding on the front door that shakes the whole house.
My breath quickens, and I’m fully awake as I nearly rip the bedroom door off the hinges, darting into the moonlit hallway.
In sync, two more bedroom doors open, and Penny and Fia groggily step out.
“What's going on?” Fia’s green eyes are wide, while Penny’s chest is heaving, her hair messily toppled on her head.
“Who is disrupting my beauty sleep?” she snaps, with a stare that could cut glass. She looks like she’s ready to fuck someone up.
That’s my girl.
Three more loud bangs on the front door come before I can answer. Tank barks, his hackles raised as he barrels down the steps to the front door.
“Stay here,” I instruct the girls, eyeing the only one stubborn enough to follow me.
Penny crosses her arms but doesn’t move. I’m not playing around.
“Fia, I know you’re in there! Open the fucking door!” a deep muffled voice bellows, the sound carrying up the hall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” Penny growls, ripping past me, but I grab her waist, tossing her back up the stairs.
“Don’t you fucking move, Penny. Stay upstairs,” I bark, and her eyes harden, but she clenches her jaw and turns around to stand next to her sister.
Fia pulls her robe tightly around her frame, her lips parted in shallow breaths.
I’m going to kill this guy.
“Grab the baseball bat!” Penny hisses at me, but I walk past the coat closet. I don’t need a bat.
“Heel, Tank,” I command, and he reluctantly sits behind me, but his eyes remain locked on the door.
I open the front door and step out into the freezing cold night with nothing on but sweatpants.
A guy about Fia’s age leans against the porch pillar with a baseball hat low over his eyes and a UNCW sweatshirt on. A luxury white sedan is parked haphazardly on the street in front of the house, and I choke back a scoff.
There’s only one person this could be, and if I’m right, they’ve got about three seconds before they’re swallowing their own teeth.
Fuckboy snaps his head up, and his bloodshot eyes find mine in the dark. The single functioning outdoor light barely illuminates the porch, but the neighbors’ Christmas lights twinkle behind him, almost making this look like a peaceful moment.
It’s not going to be.
“You looking for something?” I ask. Not the words I want to say, but I have to play nice.
His glassy eyes scan my body, sizing me up. “I’m here for Fia. Who the hell are you?” He cocks his head back, and I fold my arms across my chest.
So this is how it’s gonna be. I have to laugh, shaking my head ever so slightly.
“It’s the middle of the night, buddy.” I’m not going to lay my hands on him, but I’m also not letting him anywhere near the house. “Let me guess, you’re Brett?”
His eyes narrow, but I hold up my hand before he can get another slurred word out. “Want to talk to Fia? Come back when it’s not the middle of the goddamn night.”
In the daylight, I’d let Penny rip into him. He wouldn’t be left standing.
Brett laughs, shaking his head. He takes a step toward the door, and I put my arm up, blocking him.
He’s close enough to smell. Shitty liquor on his breath and weed clinging to his clothes. Bile rises in my throat as I realize this is who Fia was with for the last few years.
“Try again.” I nod at his car. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, turn your ass around and leave before you do something you’ll regret.”
Or I do.
Every muscle in me begs for the old ways—clenched fists and broken noses. My jaw’s tight enough to crack a tooth right now, but I don’t move.
Not because he doesn’t deserve it—and more. But because I have someone who might still believe I’m worth a second chance. Someone whose trust I already shattered once. This is my second chance—and I’m holding on to it with every fucking thing I’ve got.
“Bro, I don’t know who you are, but my girlfriend’s in there. I’ve been trying to fucking reach her all day. She blocked my number, and I want to talk.” His finger’s wavering, but he’s pointing at the house. How the fuck did he even drive here?
“And I’m telling you that you need to get off my front porch.” My voice is low and cold because I’m just about over this thick-skulled pretty boy.
“You gonna make me?” he sneers.
“I’m giving you an out, man, just go home,” I say it slow and steady, every syllable a warning.
He moves.
Brett lunges forward, head down, all brute force and zero thought—trying to shoulder past me toward the door.
I pivot, grabbing his wrist mid-charge, and twist his arm behind his back so hard something might’ve popped. I don’t care.
He grunts, body collapsing down, his knees buckling until he’s kneeling on the sagging wood porch. My other hand grips the back of his hoodie, dragging him lower until I’m huddled over him.
You don’t get through three years in prison without learning how to deal with guys who have pent-up aggression.
Tank snarls on the other side of the door, and this shit head looks like he’s regretting a few things.
Good.
“Jesus, fine! Let me go!” he says through gritted teeth.
“I’m going to say this one more time.” I let his arm go, only to grab the front of his hoodie and yank him upright until we’re eye-to-eye, gazing right into those deadbeat eyes.
“You have never been, and never will be, good enough for Fia Hanson.” I spit out every word, making sure they’re ingrained. “So erase her from your memory. Burn the idea of her out of your mind.”
His jaw clenches, but I don’t care.
“If I see you anywhere near this house again, I will take you apart piece by piece. You think you’ve hit rock bottom? Try me, and I’ll show you what hell actually feels like.”
I shove him hard, and he stumbles back, arms flailing, nearly tumbling down the porch steps. The last of his cocky smirk falters as he catches himself before hitting the pavement.
“Stop calling her. Stop texting her,” I yell, sure everyone in this neighborhood can hear me now. I want humiliation to seep into his bones.
He staggers toward his car, throwing a middle finger over his shoulder. “Fine! Fuck—she’s not worth it anyway!” he slurs out.
I watch him fumble with his keys, hands shaking. I give him exactly two seconds after the engine turns over before I pull out my phone and tell the cops there’s an inebriated driver heading east down our street.
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit down until sunrise, and when I step back inside, both anger and relief flood me simultaneously.
Fia’s standing at the base of the steps, biting her lip, eyes brimming with tears.
“You heard all that?” I ask, but it’s a dumb question. Old houses have thin walls.
“You almost killed him,” Penny says, and I laugh, a bit maniacally.
“He’ll be fine,” I reply coolly.
Fia steps toward me, wrapping her arms tightly around my torso. I hug her back.
If that’s the guy she’s been dealing with, I can only imagine the shit she’s been carrying.
“Thank you.” Her voice wavers as her small frame rests against me.
“What good are big brothers if they don’t get to beat up their sister’s trash boyfriends?” I reply, and Fia chuckles, wiping her nose as she steps back. “That was on my bucket list,” I add with a shrug.
That’s when I feel her eyes on me.
I glance over, and Penny’s still standing at the base of the steps, one hand resting lightly on the banister, the other stroking Tank’s head. He’s still alert, ears twitching, panting heavily, but even he’s leaning into Penny, calmed by her touch.
She’s gnawing gently on her bottom lip, eyes fixed on me like she’s trying to see something she’s never let herself look at before. There’s a softness in her expression.
She nods once. It’s slow and meaningful.
Then she turns to head up the steps, pausing a few stairs up to glance over her shoulder.
“Fia, you can sleep with me if you want,” she says gently.
“We’ll put on Gilmore Girls until you fall asleep.
” Her tone is soothing, almost maternal.
Though I know she’d scoff at that notion.
“Come on Tank, you too.” She pats her thigh, and Tank glances quickly at me before obediently prancing up the steps right past her.
Fia follows close behind, but Penny lingers, an unreadable expression on her face.
I pause. I was headed to the kitchen—planning to grab some water, calm down—but something about the way Penny stays there, her eyes meeting mine, makes me wait.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I stand frozen for a beat, warmth creeping back into my chest. I nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as she turns and disappears up the stairs.
It’s another hour before I finally make it to bed.
I grab the pillow and clutch it to my chest, trying to let go of the tension still in my body. My heart’s still beating like the fight’s not over.
But it is, and they’re safe. I repeat it to myself over and over.
When I finally drift off—somewhere between the muffled sound of the television and the steady hum of the heat—my last thought is her.
It’s always her.