Chapter 35 – Cassie
Jace stayed silent the entire way back to the cabin. I tried to convince him to forget what Sally Anne had said back at the store, but I knew how hard he’d fought to overcome his demons. Her words cut deep—raging bitch or not.
After unloading the groceries, Jace disappeared into his room and shut the door. I sat on the couch for a few minutes, unsure what to do. Give him space? Or march in there and make him look in the mirror, see what I saw—that he was a badass, through and through.
After a bit of debating, I decided to check on him, make sure he wasn’t spiraling. But before I could stand, my phone buzzed, a Florida number flashing across the screen. My stomach twisted. Something might be wrong with Mom.
“Hello?” I said, my voice shaky.
“Hi, this is Marcy at Seaside Recovery,” the receptionist said cheerfully. “I’m calling to let you know that your mother’s account has been paid in full.”
My hand froze around the phone. “Wait, what?” I whispered, my mind spinning. “I—I didn’t… I haven’t paid anything yet,” I said, confused. “Can you tell me how the account was paid in full?”
After a short pause on the other end, Marcy spoke again. “Well, uh… it looks like it came through as a wire transfer.” Her voice wavered slightly. I could tell she was as confused as I was. After all, I was the responsible party on the account, I should know where the payments were coming from.
“Can you tell me whose name was on the wire transfer?”
“According to our records, the sender was McKinley Ranch, LLC. The wire transfer was initiated three days ago,” she said.
My chest tightened, and heat rushed to my face. “Jace…?” I muttered.
“I called to let you know the transfer cleared this morning. Everything’s taken care of, Miss. Blake. I’ll call if we have any more questions concerning your mom’s account,” she said before ending the call.
I hung up and bolted from the couch, adrenaline fueling my steps. “JACE!” I shouted as I ran down the hallway, my voice bouncing off the cabin walls.
His bedroom door was still closed. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge—it was locked. Panic and anger mixed in my chest. “Jace! What the hell? Unlock the door,” I said, wiggling the handle some more.
After a few moments, footsteps approached, the lock clicked, and Jace opened the door.
“Cassie, I need to be alone right now, please,” he said, his voice barely audible.
“First, you’re gonna tell me why you paid my mom’s rehab bill,” I said, choosing to ignore how much his words hurt me. He looked up, surprised I had figured out what he did.
“It just felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t want you worrying about her and the bill. Being part owner of the farm leaves me with a comfortable amount of money. Enough to save for a rainy day, so I paid the bill. What’s wrong with doing a good deed?”
His brush-off hurt more than I expected. He acted like I was just some girl he’d been talking to, someone he could ignore until his shitty day passed. If we were going to be the real deal then he had to learn to let me in––and tell me about things like paying my mom’s rehab bills.
“I don’t need your help, Jace. This cozy little cabin thing we’ve got going on––it might not last forever. You know it, I know it. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s not to rely on anyone—ever,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Cassie… I didn’t do it to make you depend on me. I did it because I wanted to. Because I care about you.”
“Well, icing me out isn’t the way to show me you care. I came back here to check on you, and you had the door locked. Why can’t you just tell me how you’re feeling, how I can help you? I care about you, Jace. Let me be there for you when you need someone.”
Jace’s phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling his attention from our conversation.
He fished it out and frowned at the screen, frozen in place.
I moved closer, standing next to him so I could see.
Liam had sent him a text with a link to a video someone had posted on social media—a recording of our entire conversation at the grocery store earlier, including the part when Sally Anne mentioned Jace’s rehab.
The number of comments under the video climbed by the second.
He went to rehab?
I always knew he was wild. But didn’t know he was that wild.
He’ll never live up to the McKinley name.
One by one, the comments kept coming, and Jace just stood there reading them all. I lunged for his phone, trying to shield him from what everyone was saying, but he twisted away too fast, keeping it just out of reach.
“Jace, don’t read that bullshit. None of them get it. None of them know who you are. They’re just internet trolls,” I said, trying to reason with him. It wasn’t working, he just kept scrolling.
“Dammit, Jace, stop!”
He looked up from his phone, the color gone from his face, a clear indication he somehow believed everything people were saying about him online.
How could I convince him they were wrong? That he was the most amazing, kind, generous human being I had ever met, even if his past wasn’t always picture-perfect.
He stomped past me, down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Jace, what are you doing?” I asked, marching right behind him.
“I need to go. I need some air.” He snatched his keys off the table, marching toward the front door.
“Let me come with you, I can help,” I begged, trying to get him to stop.
He opened the door, briefly turning.
“No, you can’t, Cassie. You can’t fix this, and you can’t fix me—no matter how badly you want to. I’ll just be another addict you always have to worry about––just like your mom,” he said, slamming the door behind him without another word.
Tears flowed down my cheeks, my heart broken into a million pieces by his words. How could he think that about himself?
I ran outside, barefoot in the cold snow. By the time I got off the porch, Jace slammed his truck door shut, speeding away, my yells for him to stop drowned out by the roar of his truck engine.
I watched as Jace sped away, taking my heart with him.