Chapter 48 #2
Before I can begin to piece together how Carson even knows about Jameson’s mother, he’s slammed up against the wall, a knife pressed against his throat.
“You know nothing about her,” Jameson grits out. “And nothing about my fucking mother.”
I watch, wide-eyed, as he forces the switchblade against Carson’s neck until he draws blood.
Carson’s gaze is wild, his fists curled at his side, before he shifts, kneeing Jameson between the legs. I stagger forward when Jameson lets out a hiss, dropping the knife away from Carson’s neck.
Billy throws himself into the fight, pulling Jameson out of the way and standing in his place. Carson swings at him, missing the first time but connecting with Billy’s stomach on the second attempt. Billy wheezes out a strained breath, but the hit only seems to fuel him.
Jameson joins in, and they both start throwing hit after hit until Carson’s legs give out and he drops to the ground.
I inch closer as Billy backs away, our eyes briefly meeting before we both turn back to Jameson.
He looks lost, his gaze hollow, vacant.
Carson has his arms curled around himself, but Jameson doesn’t stop.
“Jamie!” I call out, but he just keeps going at him.
I try again, yelling his name, but it’s like he can’t hear me.
Carson groans beneath him, his body starting to unfurl.
“Jamie, stop!” I scream. “You’re gonna kill him!”
Nothing.
Billy shoots me a look before stepping forward and dragging Jameson away. He fights at first, trying to shove Billy off of him.
“Jamie,” I breathe, and his gaze finally meets mine. He goes lax in Billy’s arms, the fight leaving him.
He blinks his eyes shut for a moment, and when they open, he’s back. He looks me over, zeroing in on the bruise that’s coloring my leg.
Anger flashes across his face, and he yanks free of Billy’s hold, moving to crouch down beside Carson, staring at him in a way that makes my gut churn.
Pure fucking hatred.
I hold my breath as he leans in, his voice menacing. “If you ever pull something like this again,” he growls, “I’ll kill you.”
Carson doesn’t answer, doesn’t move.
I’m not sure he could even if he wanted to.
His eyes are fixed on the ceiling as Jameson closes the space between them.
“Do you understand?”
It takes Carson a second, but he eventually nods.
I wrap my arms around myself as Jameson clicks his tongue, grabbing Carson’s face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he demands, digging his fingers into the bruise that’s already forming on Carson’s cheek. “And answer me properly.”
“I understand,” Carson struggles.
Jameson lets go roughly, shoving his head back. “Don’t make me regret walking away with you still breathing,” he says, pushing up to stand. Then he comes right to me, taking my hand.
I stare up at him, opening my mouth to say something, though I’m not sure what.
“Get the baby dressed and meet us downstairs,” he orders.
I turn, finding Cathleen standing behind us.
“Let’s go,” he says, squeezing my hand.
I follow him, Billy moving to stand behind me. And it hits me, just how safe I feel in the space between them.
The stairs creak beneath our feet as we move down them, stepping into the destroyed living room. I immediately look at my father, relieved when I see he’s still knocked out, completely unaware of what just happened.
It briefly occurs to me how fucked up it is that I’m happy he was out of it for all of that.
How sad it is that I’m not sure if I could have counted on him to protect me.
He’s never once stepped in when Carson’s acted out against me.
Would this time have been any different?
What would Carson have to do, how far would he have to go, before my father would finally interfere?
“Baby?” I feel Jameson’s arm come around my waist.
I shake my head, shifting my attention away from my father. “Huh?”
“You just completely zoned out.”
I notice Billy watching me carefully.
Cathleen comes down the stairs with Jace on her hip, and I sag in relief at seeing them both fine.
She stops in front of me, wrapping an arm around me. “You okay?”
I relax against her. “Yeah. You?”
“Fine,” she says, but her tone is hard, bitter.
She pulls away, looking past me. “Thank you,” she offers. “I … um … well … just thank you.”
“Course,” Jameson says simply. “What do you wanna do?” He glances between us, settling on my sister. “Is there somewhere you want us to take you? You can come to my house if—”
“We’re okay,” she answers, readjusting Jace. “He’s sick and …” She glances toward the stairs. “I can’t just leave …” She pauses like she’s warring with herself. “I need to stay here.”
Jameson raises a brow. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Cath—”
“He can barely stand. I’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t take his pills,” I blurt out, because it somehow feels important that she believes me. That I know she doesn’t think this is all my fault.
I drag my nails against my palm as she watches me. She’s not saying anything. She doesn’t believe me.
“Cath,” I whisper. “I didn’t—”
“I know,” she cuts in. “No, I know.”
“He’s gone too far this time. I don’t know—”
“I’ll deal with it,” she interrupts again. “Just maybe …” She tilts her head toward the door. “Maybe just get out of here for a bit.”
Jameson moves forward, his chest brushing against my back. “I’ve got her.”
“Yeah,” Cathleen says, “I know you do.” She looks behind me, eyeing our father. “He’ll probably be out for the night. Come back in the morning and—”
Jameson wraps an arm around me. “Come back? No, she’s not—”
“I can’t do this right now,” I say quietly, silencing them both.
It feels like I’m crashing after what I just went through, the adrenaline quickly wearing off.
“All right,” Jameson says, his voice low. “Let’s just get you out of here, okay? We’ll figure this all out later.” His face darkens as he moves around the tipped-over coffee table, the room a clear depiction of what went on before he got here.
We drive back to his house in near silence, Jameson’s hand on my thigh the whole way there, like he needs to touch me. Needs to know I’m okay.
We bypass his mother, who gives us all a questioning look from her place at the kitchen table, before settling in Jameson’s room. I drop down on his bed, and Billy sits on the floor, his back against the wall, but Jameson stays standing, moving around restlessly.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally says, his eyes on the floor.
“You didn’t.”
He glances up at me. “You were screaming and I …” He runs a hand through his hair. “I …”
“You protected me.”
“I just …” He scrubs at his jaw. “When he said all that …” He continues to pace. “I don’t know what happened. I just … I couldn’t stop. And then, when I saw your knee …”
“You would’ve,” Billy says.
“I don’t know …” Jameson drops his eyes to my leg. “You told me he didn’t hurt you.”
“Because I’m fine.”
“He’s hurt you before, hasn’t he?”
Billy’s head jerks up at the question.
“And you haven’t told me.”
I play with the hem of my shirt. “Not really.”
Jameson’s jaw ticks. “Not really?”
“Just little things,” I mutter. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What little things?” Billy asks, pushing to his feet.
I shake my head.
“You’re not gonna tell us?” Jameson steps forward.
“You’re both already on edge,” I answer. “It’s nothing, really.”
Jameson juts his chin toward my knee. “How’d that happen?”
“Jamie …”
“I already gave him a beating for it. You might as well tell me.”
“Yeah, and you nearly killed him.” I look between the two of them. “You got the message across. He’s not gonna try anything again.”
Jameson shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ll tell you if something else happens, okay?”
They both stare back at me, neither of them looking satisfied with that answer.
“I promise,” I add.
“I don’t want you going back to that house.”
“I can’t just—”
“You can come stay with me.”
“I don’t know …”
He watches me carefully. “You don’t have to be scared of them.”
“That’s not …” I chew my bottom lip. “I’m not scared of them.”
He sits down on the bed beside me. “You’ve got me now.” He motions to Billy. “Both of us. We’re not gonna let them get to you.”
I know they’ll protect me, but that’s what I’m scared of. I saw how Jameson reacted to a fucking scrapped knee; what would he do if they really came after me? How far would he go? And what would happen to him if he crossed a line he couldn’t come back from?
I paste what I hope looks like a reassuring smile on my face. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Baby …”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. I shift, twisting my ring. “Sorry … I’m just … I’m kind of done with today.”
“Okay,” he says, taking my hand. “We can be done with it for today.”
I nod.
“But Sam?”
“Yeah.”
“I meant what I said. He’s never gonna hurt you again.”