37. Chapter 37 #2
"See, I know about your little side hustle," he continues, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The camming thing? Very enterprising. I've actually given you quite a bit of money through that channel. I think I deserve some... appreciation."
My blood turns to ice. How does he know about the camming? I've been so careful to keep my work life separate.
"Come on, Wren," he says, his free hand reaching to touch my face. "Just a little thank you. On your knees. I'll even pay you for those missed shifts."
I jerk my head away from his touch, disgust and fear mingling in my stomach. He laughs, the sound ugly and harsh.
"Playing hard to get? After all those things I've seen you do on camera?" His hand slides down to my hip, fingers digging in possessively. "I've been a good customer. Very generous. The least you could do is show some gratitude."
I wrench away from him, but he grabs me again, both hands now gripping my arms with bruising force. Panic surges through me, memories of Levi's hands flashing in my mind. Not again. Never again.
"No!" The scream tears from my throat, raw and primal and louder than I thought possible.
Marcus's eyes widen in shock—at my voice or my resistance, I can't tell. But before he can react further, the café door crashes open.
Jace stands in the doorway, his body rigid with fury. In the three seconds it takes him to process the scene before him, his expression transforms from concern to something I've never seen before—a cold, calculated rage that's almost frightening in its intensity.
He moves with a speed and precision that's startling, closing the distance between himself and Marcus in four long strides. His fist connects with Marcus's jaw before my boss even has time to release me.
Marcus staggers backward, clutching his face. "What the fuck?" he spits, blood trickling from his split lip.
Jace doesn't respond. There's something mechanical about the way he advances on Marcus, like he's executing a program rather than acting on emotion. He grabs Marcus by the shirt collar and slams him against the wall, his other fist drawn back for another strike.
My hands fly up instinctively to sign, but Jace's eyes never leave Marcus's face. He's locked in, tunnel-visioned. He won't see me. Not like this. Not when his entire world has narrowed to the man in front of him. My fingers flutter uselessly in the space between us.
"Jace!" I gasp, my voice breaking on his name, the sound still foreign in my throat. "Stop!"
He doesn't seem to hear me. His fist connects with Marcus's stomach, driving the air from his lungs in a pained whoosh. Then another blow to his face, this one making a sickening crack as it connects with Marcus's nose.
I try signing again, frantic gestures that might as well be invisible. Words will be the only thing that reach him now. I have to speak.
I rush forward, grabbing Jace's arm before he can land another punch. "Jace, please," I force the words out, each syllable scraping my unused vocal cords. "He's not worth it."
For a terrifying moment, I think he won't stop. There's a blankness in his eyes that I've never seen before, like he's completely disconnected from himself. Then he blinks, my voice penetrating the fog, his focus returning as he registers my touch, my sound.
"He touched you," Jace says, his voice flat and cold. "He threatened you."
"I know," I say aloud, the words painful but necessary, tugging him away from Marcus, who's slumped against the wall, blood streaming from his nose. "But I'm okay. I'm safe now. You're here."
Marcus struggles to his feet, his face a mask of blood and fury. "You're fucking fired!" he shouts at me, spraying droplets of blood with each word. "Get out and never come back! And take your psycho boyfriend with you!"
Jace lunges forward again, but I step between them, my hands firm on his chest. "No," I say more clearly. "He's not worth it, Jace. Let's go."
Jace's eyes flick between me and Marcus, his body still vibrating with tension. For a moment, I think he might push past me to finish what he started.
"If you ever come near her again," he says to Marcus, his voice unnervingly calm now, "what happened today will seem like a friendly greeting. Do you understand me?"
Marcus spits blood onto the floor. "Fuck you. I'm calling the cops. Assault charges—"
"Go ahead," Jace cuts him off. "I'll be sure to tell them exactly what you were doing when I arrived. I wonder how that'll play out for you?"
I tug at Jace's arm again, more insistently. "Please," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Let's just go."
Finally, he allows me to pull him toward the door. I grab my bag on the way out, not bothering to untie my apron or collect anything else I might have left behind. It doesn't matter. I'm never coming back here.
Outside, the night air is cool against my flushed skin. Jace is still rigid beside me, his breathing too controlled, too measured. I lead him away from the café, not stopping until we're a block away.
"Are you okay?" he asks finally, his voice still tight with restrained fury.
I nod, then shake my head, then nod again—unable to decide how I actually feel. My hands rise between us, but I can't seem to form coherent signs.
"Did he hurt you?" Jace presses, his eyes scanning my face, my arms, looking for injuries.
"No," I manage to say aloud, my voice rough from screaming.
Jace stares at me, his eyes widening at the sound of my voice. For a moment, he seems frozen, like he can't process what he's hearing. Then something in him breaks.
"Fuck," he whispers, his hands suddenly framing my face. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "I fucking love you. Do you understand that? I love you so goddamn much it's tearing me apart."
His voice cracks on the words, raw and unfiltered in a way I've never heard from him before. This isn't the calculated, controlled Jace I know. This is something primal, something desperate.
"I was going to wait," he continues, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Wait until you'd forgiven us. Wait until the perfect moment. But there is no perfect moment, is there? Just this—you and me, standing on a sidewalk after I nearly killed your boss."
I can't look away from his eyes, can't escape the naked emotion there. My heart hammers against my ribs as his fingers tighten slightly against my skin.
"I love you," he says again, the words sharp and certain. "And it fucking terrifies me how much. I would burn this entire city to the ground if it meant keeping you safe. Do you understand what that means? What you do to me?"
I nod, unable to form words. His confession steals my breath away. I've never seen Jace like this before, so completely undone. The careful control he maintains, the measured responses, the analytical approach to everything—it's all gone, replaced by something primal and desperate.
"Say something," he pleads, his fingers still framing my face. "Anything."
I swallow hard, feeling the words forming in my throat. They've been there for weeks, maybe months, waiting for me to find the courage to release them. Even after everything—the lies, the betrayal, the hospital—they remain, stubborn and true.
"I love you too," I whisper, my voice rough but clear.
Jace stares at me, his eyes widening as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. Not just the words themselves, but the fact that I'm speaking them. A dozen emotions flicker across his face in rapid succession—shock, joy, desire, disbelief.
He makes a sound that's half laugh, half sob, and then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is desperate, consuming, like he's trying to absorb the words directly from my lips.
His hands cradling my head as if I'm something infinitely precious.
I grip his shirt, pulling him closer, pouring everything I can't yet articulate into the kiss.
We kiss like it's the only thing keeping us alive, like we've been starving for each other.
In this moment, with his hands cradling my face and his lips moving against mine, nothing else matters.
Not Marcus, not Levi, not the stalking or the lies or the fear.
Just us, standing on a dimly lit sidewalk, finding our way back to each other.
I wouldn't change this moment for anything. Not the circumstances that brought us here, not the raw, unfiltered confession, not even the violence that preceded it. Because with him, and with Theo, I found something I thought I'd lost forever—my voice, my power, my truth.
And I'm never letting go again.