Chapter 59
Chapter fifty-nine
Jett
There will always be more to the story when it comes to Izzy.
This is something I’ve understood and accepted a long time ago.
She tucks the parts of herself that she deems unlovable into a box, guarded by lock and key, hidden behind her fortress of walls that she personally guards like her life depends on it.
“I don’t know where to start.” Her words are snappy and frustrate me.
Her having told me there are things I don’t know has a shot of panic, mixed with a tinge of anger, rushing through me.
If I had to guess, it has to do with why she had a panic attack and reached for the whiskey.
Which is really beginning to hit her now with the way she’s swaying slightly in her seat, looking unsteady.
This isn’t the best time to have this conversation, but I’m tired of fucking waiting.
“Maybe try starting from the beginning. For example, was it the happy news that caused you to have a panic attack? I don’t understand.
I know you, Iz. I saw the look on your face, and that shit doesn’t add up.
” My voice is firm, and my question is direct.
She scoffs with a dry laugh that holds no trace of humor. Her eyes instantly flash to meet mine, and I can see the war raging behind her emerald depths. The fire there tells me I won’t like what I’m about to hear.
“You really wanna know?” she slurs out, pushing to stand on unsteady feet.
Yep, she’s fucking wasted.
“Of course, I want to know, Iz. I don’t know what the hell could possibly–”
“We had a fucking baby, Jettson!” Her hands are placed firmly on her hips as she leans in toward me, shouting at the top of her lungs.
“We had a baby,” she repeats, her voice lower now, almost a whisper.
As soon as the second sentence escapes her mouth, she drops back down to the couch, and her entire body deflates in defeat as a sob overtakes her.
I’m stunned, speechless. There’s no way I’ve heard her correctly.
“What? How— W-when?” I ask, my voice shaky and unsure, displaying every emotion coursing through me. I’m trying to process what she just told me, but I feel so fucking confused.
She doesn’t respond, and it sets me off. I instantly stand, rush to her, pull her up by the shoulders, and remain holding on to them. One of my hands cups her chin, forcing her to face me and look me in the eyes as she continues explaining and shattering my devastated heart.
“Izabel!” Her name on my tongue comes out like venom, shouting it, demanding answers.
“I-I… I found out after… we ended things,” she slurs, barely audible, the alcohol fully kicked in now, making her damn near incoherent.
Not caring that she’s clearly not in her right mind, I push forward.
“What happened to the baby, Izzy!? Where is he? She? FUCK! How the fuck could you keep this from me!?” My words sputter out so quickly that they damn near all mesh together.
My grasp on her shoulders tightens slightly.
The confusion morphs into anger as each second ticks by, and I further process the reality of her confession.
We had a child.
A baby.
How the fuck could she keep this from me?
She sways from side to side beneath my hands, clearly feeling the effects of the whiskey.
Fuck.
There’s no getting clear answers out of her right now, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. “Where’s the baby, Izabel!? Fucking tell me!”
“Didn’t...” she chokes out through a sob, dropping her head against my chest. I release my grasp on her shoulders and take a step backward, which leaves her stumbling forward. I don’t have it in me to comfort her right now.
“Didn’t what!?” My words come out louder than I intend, the rage clearly overtaking me, trying to rein it back in.
I will never understand how she could keep this from me. She knew. She knew how much she meant to me. She knew how badly I wanted a family and a life with her.
“Jett!” Abbie’s voice shouts in a panic as she comes into view from the direction of the pasture, and she runs directly to me. “I went to check on my horse. She’s sick. And the main barn, it—”
“Not a good time,” I say dryly in a firm voice, leaving no room for negotiation as my eyes return to Izzy.
“You’ll have to make it a good time!” Abbie says on a scream as panic clearly takes over. I stand, rushing toward her.
“Hey, hey, what’s—” I’m cut short by the intense, unmistakable smell that wafts through the air, and I glimpse the chaos unfolding above us. Black smoke fills the sky, sending my heart into a frenzy.
My eyes instantly shoot to Abbie’s, who's clearly in a panic. Resting my hands on her shoulders, I force her to take a deep breath with me. “Abbie, breathe. What happened?”
“The fucking barn, it’s up in flames. I heard a noise, and the next thing I know—” I take off before she can finish that sentence.
I stop in front of a very drunk, half-asleep Izzy. “We aren’t done. Once you sober up, this conversation continues,” I say, more as a demand than anything.
She doesn’t respond, just nods as she sits on the outdoor sofa again.
I hate leaving her like this, especially with so many questions lingering between us, but I know it’s for the best. This conversation clearly isn’t going anywhere right now, and it’s only adding more fuel to the fire, causing my anger to grow.
I can’t help but notice that even though Izzy’s intoxicated, she’s completely broken over this. The part of my heart that is and has always been reserved for her contracts with pain, seeing her torn like this.
“Take Izzy, go inside. Tell Ander and Kasten to meet me there!” I shout to Abbie, leaving no room for argument. “Fuck,” I mutter as soon as my feet hit the gravel driveway in a sprint, and my eyes are met with destruction. The barn is engulfed in flames.
There’s no saving it or the animals, but I’m sure going to try.
I run to my truck, wasting no time getting in and throwing it into drive.
“Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!” I chant the words on a plea as the phone continues to ring.
“Hey, boss–”
“Main barn, bring everyone. NOW!” I shout. The ranch hand begins to respond, but I hang up before I hear what he says, so I can call the fire department.
It takes a little over an hour, but it feels like forever until we finally have the fire contained and under control. There’s no sign of the dipshit that started the fire, not like I expected there to be. This was them. This was a fucking message, and quite frankly, I’m sick of it.
Abbie was in the stall with her horse when this happened. She could have gotten hurt. Without her opening all the stalls and setting the horses free, none of them would have survived. Her quick thinking saved them.
The Fire Marshall’s investigation came to a halt after I convinced Mark to say it was an accident, that the fire started because he fell asleep with a cigarette in his hand.
I had to when I heard them say the word “arson.” With all the other shit that happened, it was easy to put two and two together.
And when the authorities asked if we wanted to pursue it further, our answer was an immediate no.
Mark is family—it’s why I asked him to take the blame.
Not to mention, the last thing I need is the police snooping around and getting involved. That would only make matters worse.
Stepping away from my family and the men with the fire department, I approach my truck, open the door, and sit in the driver's seat. I need to get back to Izzy.
I walk into my parents' house to see all the women sitting on the couch, clearly shaken up, but no sign of the one I’m looking for.
Abbie speaks up first. “Jett, I’m so sorry. Are you–”
“Where is she?” I interrupt her, not giving a shit that I sound rude. Adrenaline is rushing through me, and I need to lay eyes on Izzy. I need to know she’s okay. Fuck, I need to know she won’t run from this. Not again. She needs to face it head-on.
Dessa clears her throat nervously, pulling my attention to her.
“Uhm... She’s pretty drunk. She demanded that we take her to your house. I know that’s probably not the best—”
“Thanks,” I respond, abruptly turning on my heel back out the door.
Hopping in my truck, heading toward my house on the back of the expansive property, I pick up my phone. It only has the chance to ring once before he answers.
“What the fuck was that?!” I shout through the receiver, not giving a flying fuck if he likes it or not. Probably not my brightest decision, but I’m beyond furious.
“That was a reminder, Jett,” he says casually, tone as calm as ever, as if he didn’t just have one of his men set my property up in flames.
“Of what!?” I scoff. “I agreed to pay you when I can—”
“A reminder to learn your fucking place and stay in it!” he shouts, just before ending the call.
I. Am. Fucked.
Parking my truck, I look at my house. She’s inside.
Somewhere, I’ve always wanted her. Hell, I built it in hopes she’d come back to me one day.
I could have stayed in one of the many cabins on the property, but this was made specifically for her.
She’d always rant about how, if she lived out here, she’d have a white board and batten house with grey shutters and an expansive front porch.
I already knew she loved the look of brick flooring, exposed wooden beams, and industrial-looking hardware on staircases.
Every detail that went into my home was because of her. Now, she’s here.
Letting out a sigh, I comb a hand through my hair, stepping out of my truck and making my way toward the front door.
Once inside, I instantly catch sight of her lying on the couch, freshly showered and wearing my clothes, now perfectly asleep as if she didn’t just shift my world on its axis with her confession.
I want to wake her, force her to talk, and tell me everything. Hell, maybe even pick a damn fight to ease my frustration with all the shit going on.
I don’t.
Instead, I pick her up and head up the stairs toward my bedroom.
“Mmm,” Izzy groans as she stirs, shifting a little in my grasp. She grabs onto my arms as her eyelids softly flutter open only a tad.
“You built it,” she whimpers.
“Shh,” I whisper, taking the last few steps. “Sleep.”
Making it to my bedroom, I lay her down in my bed. She wastes no time snuggling up with my pillows, getting comfortable like she belongs here.
Who am I kidding? She does.