Chapter 15 #2
Eyes shutting tight, her head lowered. “I’m confused.
About everything. About you being back in my life after what we had.
It doesn’t feel fair. It feels cruel, actually.
You don’t just get to walk back into my life and…
do all of this. Show up out of nowhere and talk to me about the past and us and our old life and then…
give me that stuff. You think you know me, but you don’t.
You don’t know what kind of life I’m living now.
You think it’s perfect. You think I’m happy. I’m far from that, Bridger.”
My brows furrowed and I slowly rested the tip of my finger against her chin, tilting her head up so our eyes would meet. She had the prettiest eyes. Hazel eyes. That beautiful blend of dark green and gold. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Things aren’t as simple as they seem. You don’t know what’s going through my head. What I’m… What I’m dealing with.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, teeth clenching a little. Not at her. Not at her confession. But because of how damn fragile she sounded. I hated that tone in her voice, all quiet and broken.
“You have no idea what I think and feel when I see you,” she said. “How I feel a million different things all at the same time.”
“Tell me then,” I said lowly.
“I… I don’t want to… think about our past,” she said. “And how bad it all ended, because when it was good, it wasn’t just really good, it was special. It was magical and perfect and so amazing and just…. It was everything I wanted.”
“I know,” I said, keeping my tone serious. “Me too.”
“But then you went and—”
“No, I didn’t.”
“The police—”
“Are liars, Juliette.”
“You don’t…” She sighed softly. “Even though you did all of that, I still keep thinking about how much I…”
“What?”
I moved in closer, just that little bit.
Her eyes were all big and pretty, her lashes long and dark as she blinked up at me.
Those pouty lips looked so good, so soft and inviting.
It had been so long since I felt her lips on mine.
It had been five years since I kissed Juliette Ashford.
That was a long time to not kiss the girl you loved.
“How much you what?” I asked.
I could see her shaking. Just a little. I wanted to lean in, wanted to feel her, touch her, hold her.
My hands landed on her waist, the smooth fabric of her expensive dress under my fingers.
My lips ghosted over hers. Not quite kissing her.
No pressing my mouth to hers. Her eyes locked to mine, that green and gold staring back at me.
Close. So fucking close. Our lips just barely an inch apart.
I wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her. Was going to kiss her. My lips brushed along hers, just about to press up against her some more and slip my tongue into her mouth when there was a noise in the air. The door being pushed open. Then a voice. Chase’s voice.
“You busy in here?” Chase asked.
Soft hands landed on my chest and pushed me backwards, and I looked over my shoulder to see Chase standing there in the doorway.
Hand on the knob, his brows lifted, looking at me, then at Juliette, then back at me.
Then I could tell that he had made the connection in his head as his brows knitted together and he kicked the door shut behind him, making a beeline for me. And Juliette.
I could count on one hand how many people I trusted with my life.
Chase was on that list, and he had quickly gone from a fellow criminal to a friend to a brother.
But I still made sure to press a hand to Juliette’s waist, shifting her so that she was behind me, so that she was shielded.
I could feel her hands reaching up, tugging at the back of my shirt, like she was trying to yank me in closer.
Protection. She needed that. I’d make sure she had it. I always would.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he snapped, pointing a hand our way. “I was here to talk to you about tonight, but I see you’re busy doing stupid shit.”
“Just relax. It’s okay,” I assured him. “This… This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Why is she here?” he asked.
“I can leave,” Juliette suggested, voice all tiny and those hands still there pulling at my shirt. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“No, you don’t have to go,” I said. We had been seconds away from fucking kissing and I wanted to go back to that. It was my first time since seeing her again where she wasn’t completely and totally pissed at me and I wasn’t completely and totally pissed at her. I wanted to be back in that moment.
“Bridger,” Chase said, teeth grinding together.
“You’re worried she’s gonna snitch. She’s not. She’s known who I was from that night, and she hasn’t snitched yet,” I quickly explained. “It’s been almost a month and she hasn’t snitched. If she was gonna do it, she would have done it by now.”
Breathing in heavy, Chase shook his head. “How does she know about this place? About your home? I knew you were talking to her, I knew you were going to her place, but here? You brought her here? To where—Bridger, where we fucking work? Tell me how she knows about this place.”
“I told her,” I said.
“And what else did you tell her? What else does she know?”
“You can trust her,” I explained. “Juliette’s not gonna do anything. Isn’t that right?”
Juliette cleared her throat. “I haven’t told anyone and I don’t plan on doing that.”
“How am I supposed to trust her?” Chase asked.
“I promise I’m not wearing a wire or anything,” Juliette piped up.
“Going to her place is one thing. Keeping in contact with her is another. But letting her come here, to your home?” Chase pointed a finger at me.
“That’s completely fucking different. That’s something you should have talked to us about.
What else have you told her? Are you giving her names and shit too?
A fucking behind the scenes tour of everything we do and everyone we know? ”
“It isn’t like that,” I said. “She doesn’t know anything. I promise.”
“She knows where you live.”
“Right.”
“She knows where you work.”
“Yeah.”
“In case you’re forgetting, I work at the same place, and I don’t need some rich girl blabbing to the wrong person,” Chase said, looking over my shoulder and towards Juliette.
“She is not going to fucking blab,” I explained. “She hasn’t gone to the cops. She hasn’t told anyone, because if she did, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be back in fuckin’ prison, I promise you that. You don’t have to trust her, but I do, and you trust me, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “With my life.”
“Then you can walk out of this room without a single worry about her knowing where I live.”
“You know how to pick ‘em, huh?” He exhaled sharply, pushing a heavy hand through his hair. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Fucking alone.”
I stayed still, keeping Juliette behind me until Chase pulled the door shut. Her fingers still clung to me as she waited a beat before finally letting out a loud sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have just showed up like this out of nowhere.”
Turning around, I was greeted with a nervous looking Juliette. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, those hands that had been yanking at my shirt wrapped around herself—like she needed to be held but couldn’t ask for it.
“Don’t mind him,” I said. “He’s always pissed at someone. He gets pissed at me all the time. Don’t take it personally.”
She laughed, all soft and dull. “I promise I’m not wearing a wire.”
“Should I pat you down just to make sure?” I murmured.
Her cheeks went a little pink, just like they used to when I got too close.
When I had my hands on her. When I leaned in close, her back pressed to her bedroom door after I had snuck in, my lips hovering by her ear as I told her every last filthy thing I had been thinking of doing to her while she had been stuck at her fancy little prep school all day.
Her cheeks stayed flushed, her teeth biting into her plump bottom lip. Those soft, perfect lips I used to be so eager to kiss every chance I got. Were they still as soft? They looked like they were.
“I swear I’m not wearing one,” she said. “I just came here to… To say thanks for the present.”
I arched a brow. “You’re saying thank you to me?”
“I am.”
“Didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You’ve already painted something?”
“Yeah. I’m a little rusty, though. Like I said, it’s nothing special.”
“How long has it been since you last painted?”
She gave me a weak, little shrug, her eyes landing on the carpet like she was too embarrassed to let out her next words. “Since I met him.”
Those words hung in the air. Heavy, too present, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to forget them. What the fuck went on in that house? In that multimillion-dollar home with pristine everything?
“So he can do what he wants, but you can’t do what you love?” I asked.
“It’s…” She winced. “It’s complicated, Bridger.”
“I can handle complicated.”
“It’s messy,” she whispered.
“When have I ever cared about a little mess, princess?”
Her lips twitched again like she wanted to smile but couldn’t quite let herself do it. It went away before I could really savor the sight of her looking like that. Pretty, at ease, smiling.
“Gordon doesn’t really… appreciate my creative side,” she said. “We’ll put it that way.”
I didn’t say anything for a little while. All I knew was that I had some wild urge to feel her, so I stepped in closer, lifting a gentle hand to her chin. My thumb caressed her skin as our eyes met. Slow, soft, steady.
“Guess I was right about you marrying a fucking loser,” I said, my voice low.
“Maybe.” A soft, sad sounding chuckle left her lips before she shook her head. “What’s tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Your friend said something about tonight…”
“Oh. Another job.”
“You can’t stop breaking into houses, huh?”
“I’m a little addicted.”
“Aren’t you scared? What if you get the wrong house? The wrong person? One who’s just as violent and deranged as you?”
“Violent and deranged?” I laughed. “Is that what you think I am?”
“Maybe a tiny bit…”
“You sound worried about me. Are you worried?”
“Well…” Her eyes found the floor again. They kept fucking doing that.
She never used to do that. Keep her gaze on the floor like she was worried or ashamed.
“Do you think I want bad things to happen to you or something? I don’t want to see you get hurt, but I guess you won’t be sneaking into my house tonight, then. You’ll be busy…”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
Her voice was quieter now. Muted. “I guess… I guess I…”
“What?”
“I guess I wanted to show you my painting. I haven’t got anyone else to show it to.”
That made my heart ache far too much. There wasn’t a speck of confidence in her voice.
The girl I used to see and be around was long gone—the one who always got so excited about her art, who liked to show me all the new stuff she had made, who talked about all the images she could see in her head that she was dying to paint and make come to life.
I used to love that girl. Juliette had turned into the woman I never wanted her to be.
The woman I knew she didn’t want to be either.
I let a thumb stroke at her chin, loving the way her lashes fluttered that tiny bit.
“I’ll come and see it. I promise. I can’t tonight, but I’ll come look at it if you really want me to. ”
I stayed there touching her, her skin all soft and smooth under me.
I let myself get lost in the moment and really feel it.
Here we were, not fighting, not snapping at each other.
It was nice. It felt like what we used to have when I was sneaking in through her bedroom window and holding her tight to me after being apart all day.
But then she flinched and shoved my hand away, taking a hasty step back. “I have to get back home,” she said.
I frowned. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
I gave Juliette the space she needed to step away from me.
There was so much sadness in her face that it almost made me regret sending her all that stuff, but she had always been so damn good at painting that it didn’t make sense to not give it to her.
Upsetting her hadn’t been my intention. Art made her happy, and there used to be a time where all I wanted to do was make her happy.
I hated the idea of someone ripping that away from her.
“Goodbye, Bridger,” she whispered.
“Goodbye, Juliette,” I managed to mumble out.
I kept my eyes on her as she moved to the door and pulled it open. I could see her letting out a deep breath before she stepped outside and shut it behind her. Then she was gone. Disappearing from my sight like she had never showed up at my apartment at all.