Chapter Twenty-One JACKIE
Chapter Twenty-One
JACKIE
“If anyone asks, I’m meditating in the boathouse,” I call out as I head down the flagstone path.
The guard straightens the moment he spots me, eyes narrowing slightly when he clocks the bundled sweater tucked under my arm.
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
He nods, but not before giving the sweater one last suspicious glance.
In my defense, I’m sneaking out like a teenager with a hidden bottle of cheap gas station whiskey because Carter doesn’t keep alcohol in the house.
I’m also hiding from Eliza. She’d never say anything, but I’ve heard the stories about some of her foster parents, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.
One would think being tied to the third-richest family in the country would buy me a little freedom.
The luxury of disappearing anywhere in the world, no questions asked.
But, no. My overprotective, pig-headed brother insists on having me directly in his sight.
And for some unknown reason, he’s decided to take Adam under his wing, too.
So here I am, stuck in the middle of nowhere, Maine. Drowning in the tension.
I swing the boathouse door open and inhale the damp scent of cedar.
It hurt so much to be close to him before the night by the fire, but after seeing the hate on his face…
It ripped my soul apart.
Under my shoes, the wood floor creaks in the silent night while I locate the perfect hiding spot. This is how low I’ve sunk. A heavy sigh scratches the inside of my throat, and I blink furiously a couple of times to keep the tears at bay.
I hate that there’s nothing I can do. That I have to be sheltered like a fragile porcelain doll. It’s everything I swore I’d never be, growing up. Even Logan is vague about what they’ve been up to. I have no idea if they are closer to solving this than they were in May.
How the fuck did I end up here?
If the hackers want money, why haven’t they made any demands? The explosion made no sense. And my house? I don’t even want to think about it. It makes my skin crawl knowing they had their hands all over my things.
My chest feels like a pressure cooker.
All the fear. The helplessness. The conflicting feelings toward Adam. The doubt. I can’t solve anything. It’s all pushing outwards, crushing my ribs until it’s hard to breathe.
I slump onto a fishing stool, propping my head on the life vests hanging on the wall.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I blink hard.
I’ll get through this.
This nightmare will be over soon. I’ll get back to my life. Away from…him.
The first gulp of whiskey burns like a motherfucker.
I splutter like I’ve never had alcohol before, already tearing up, and stare blankly at the silver shimmer of the ripples across the water, the bottle dangling from my fingertips.
The showdown with Adam…was not what I expected. He should’ve looked guilty. Ashamed.
But he didn’t.
Blanca insisted that the person who saw him at the bar with a blonde intern from his office was reliable. And I had no reason not to trust her. My anger was justified. I shake my head and take another swig to drown the thought.
Otherwise, it would mean I got it wrong, and that’s impossible. Jackie Rawlings doesn’t make mistakes.
I had two choices back then.
Stay, and believe him when he would’ve denied everything. Because I’m sure that’s what would’ve happened. Risk ruining my reputation if it got out.
Or break my own heart, and protect myself and everything I was working so hard for.
I didn’t even have my own father’s trust. How could I have taken on the world and made them take me seriously?
So I left.
Did the work in London. Pretended it was enough. Pretended I hadn’t left my heart in New York.
Another scorching sip numbs my tongue.
I breathe in the smell of wildflowers growing along the shore, but serenity eludes me.
“Having a little pity party?” Adam’s icy voice slices through the darkness.
My body jolts, and I nearly drop the bottle. He’s standing in the side doorway, arms crossed and rigid. Even in the shadows, the deep scowl directed at me is unmistakable.
He’s got some nerve popping out of nowhere. He’s been gone for days. In the meantime, after the fight, I walked around putting on an act for everybody, while I was tail spinning all alone.
“You came back to yell at me some more?” I can’t help the snarl. “Tell me I’m the absolute worst?”
Adam slides his tongue over his teeth. “Are you drunk?”
“Not yet.” I raise the bottle in a mock toast. “Give me another half hour.”
“I promise you, alcohol won’t fix your problems.”
I blow out a breath, unamused. “Thanks. Are you a therapist now?” I stare at the pink laces of my sneakers, too tired to fight. “You’re the last person who should lecture me about drinking responsibly.” It’s a low blow, but I’m not feeling charitable right now.
For a long moment, I think he’s gone. There’s no other sound but the rhythmic lapping of the water against the boat and the soft rustling of leaves from the surrounding forest.
“I was self-medicating,” he says quietly.
“That’s bullshit,” I sneer. “You don’t get to hide behind that excuse.”
Propped against the door frame, he casually delivers his next blow. “Anything to snuff you out. But you’re buried so deep, I can’t cut you off without hurting myself more.”
The tip of his boot scuffs against the floor, shoulders rising with each breath. “I have to live with this ache. I can’t escape it. You’re my prison, Jackie…”
My hackles are raised in an instant. “Don’t you dare blame me for this.”
“No,” he sneers. “I blame myself for thinking you were anything more than a self-absorbed daddy’s little princess.”
His words feel like blades running down my skin.
I’m on my feet so fast, the boat shed spins, and I have to lean on the workbench along the wall.
“Don’t call me that.” My voice is raw. Hearing it from him stings when he’s the only person who ever saw past that. “You know that’s not true!”
“I don’t know anymore, Jackie. I thought I did…But your little revelation has me questioning everything.”
A dry laugh crawls out of me. “You’re one to talk about lying.”
Adam straightens, stepping into the boathouse. “You’re so…Argh!” He exhales sharply, pulling at his hair. In two strides, we’re face to face, so close I can see his features twist, his mouth a hard line.
“I’m what?” I push at his chest, but he’s rooted to the spot. “Say it.”
His eyes are blazing, anger pouring out in waves. “Fucking infuriating.”
“Me?” I feel out of control, my skin vibrating with fury. “How about you admit you loved the attention? God knows what you did with those women. All while you were dangling promises about a future…”
I’d been incredibly stupid. Ready to stand up to my family and tell everyone about him. Then I found out he was full of lies.
Adam’s head jerks back. “If you genuinely think that…” His voice hardens. “Maybe they’re right about you. You’re not as bright as you think you are.”
“Shut up!” My hands fly to his chest, shoving him again until he grabs my wrists and pulls me close.
“Can’t handle the truth?” He leans over me, his breath ghosting my lips.
We’re standing toe to toe, panting, but his gaze drops to my mouth. I’m coming undone, my restraint crumbling.
If I don’t put some distance between us, I might do something I can’t take back.
“The truth?” I gasp. “The truth is, I never want to see you again.”
Instead of stepping back, he smirks, clicking his tongue. “Misbehaving brat.” He inches closer, and I almost forget what we’re fighting about. “You shouldn’t tell lies.”
The shift in his tone slithers over me, setting me on fire. It’s low, dangerous, and full of promises that shouldn’t make my core throb.
But my body doesn’t know the difference between warning and want.
“What? Are you going to punish me?”
A sound of agreement rumbles in his throat. “That’s all I’ve been dreaming about,” he says, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. “For eight years. Ruining you. Making you beg for me.”
And I fucking want it all. Anything to feel his hands on me again. One last time. I wish I had the strength to hold on to hate. I should. But letting him break me apart feels so right in this moment.
If everything hurts anyway, I want to be the one who chooses how.
I know what I’m asking for. There’s no hesitation. “Then do it.”
Adam’s mouth crushes mine the instant the words are out. My ears ring, pulse hammering. It’s heaven and hell clashing in one breathless second.
At first, the kiss is hard. All his frustration pressed into every touch, until it sweetens into a quiet surrender. His mouth moves against mine with a slow, deliberate drag, catching on my lower lip, tugging it.
I kiss him without a second thought, needing to taste him. To feel the burn of his mouth.
He’s demanding and overpowering, devouring my every breath.
My skin is ablaze, every lingering doubt burned to a crisp.
When my lips part for him, he takes more without hesitation. Tongue sliding over mine, caressing and greedy. His hands leave my wrists and come up to cradle my face, holding me there, anchoring me.
Kissing him is like drinking sweet wine on an empty stomach; it rushes straight to my head. My knees threaten to buckle. I clutch his shirt, holding on to him. Desperate for more.
At first, his hands move lazily down my neck and shoulders, like the breeze coming through the open double doors. But soon they grow frantic, mapping every inch of my body in reach.
He grabs my ass and pulls me closer, and I gasp. I can feel him. Hard and ready. I grind against him, but he breaks the kiss, letting my moan drift between us.
Adam stares at me, his features filled with shock and lust. There are no words exchanged as his thumb grazes my swollen lower lip.
I don’t want him to change his mind, and I pull him back in, drowning in the kiss, grasping at every taste of him.
Not even the chilly night air, stirring the scent of wood and salt around us, can cool me down.