Chapter 15
Fifteen
Jade
I stared at the wad of cash on the bed, then back at Wolf.
His soft expression showed none of the hate or resentment I’d seen over the past week.
He reminded me of the boy I’d fallen in love with.
Kind, full of empathy, and willing to risk himself to help me.
When I saw those flashing blue lights, my future had played out in front of me like a short, low-budget movie.
It involved a lifetime of jail followed by minimum-wage employment and poverty.
I could just imagine my sick father’s face, the disappointment at hearing that everything he’d tried to instill in me had been a waste.
But Wolf had gotten rid of the police and filed a fake report…
It had been far too close, though, and now, I was left with the cold, hard truth that I couldn’t keep doing this.
“You know,” he said. “I’ve kind of missed the adrenaline hit that comes with stealing shit.”
“You miss the white-knuckle fear of possible jail time?”
A slight smirk caught the corner of his lips. I’d forgotten how handsome he was when he actually smiled. “Something like that.”
“You’re a drug dealer…”
The way he deadpanned me screamed, “No-shit, Sherlock.”
“What, that’s not thrill enough for you?”
“What I’m getting at is that I can help you.”
I felt bad enough dragging Cassie into this shit. Not to mention, this was one of the reasons my relationship with Wolf had fallen apart. I couldn’t let him risk the future he had a very real shot at, not for me. “It’s too risky.”
“You forget I’m Dayton.”
“So am I, so I wouldn’t say that argument holds much merit.” I sighed. “It’s too much to risk, for me, Wolf.”
He snorted, petting over the lump that was Dog beneath the blanket.
“You act like I’m planning on getting caught.
” Of course, he was arrogant. He’d never been caught.
Arrested? Sure, but not charged. He’d certainly never left a car outside his target’s house.
“I’m not planning on robbing First National Bank, Jade. ”
I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to piece it all together. He’d blackmailed me, hated me—which I had probably deserved. Why would he give a damn about my crappy situation? Hell, why hadn’t he just handed me over to the cops and saved himself a headache? Instead, he’d filed a false report.
“Why?”
“Why what? Why am I not planning on robbing First National Bank? To start with, that’s a felony…”
“Why help me?” I needed to know.
“Because, like I said, if I don’t, you are going to end up in jail.” He studied me for a second, his brows creasing.
I knew Wolf, knew when he was lying. Or at least avoiding the truth because he pretty much never outright lied.
“And then what are your parents going to do?”
Lose their house. Their daughter. But if Wolf lost his scholarship, his shot at the NFL… He’d already given up the scholarship to the college he’d really wanted to go to for me. I had already screwed up his life plenty.
“You’re in your last year. After this, you can help them. Legally .” He tucked a stray chunk of hair behind my ear. “Don’t screw that shit up.”
I knew if I dropped out now, I’d forever be trapped in the minimum wage hamster wheel. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Or I could take his help…
“You can either help me help you,” he said, “or I’ll help you myself.”
As selfish as it felt, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and take the metaphorical hand he was offering. “Okay.” That one word felt binding somehow, as if it had initiated a subtle shift in the air between Wolf and me.
The smile that pulled at his lips was like the sun breaking through black storm clouds, and I instantly felt the weight lift from my shoulders.
Wolf had always made it feel as if he’d hold up the entire world to keep it from crushing me.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed someone—no, just him.
I’d had Cassie and Monroe, but Wolf was, well, Wolf.
No matter how much I’d tried to be fine without him, he would always feel like my protector. My safe space, my person…
I swallowed around the lump in my throat, trying to keep it together.
Squishy’s nose poked out of the comforter before he crawled out and plopped down in front of me.
He licked a tear off my cheek, and for some reason, empathy from an animal was what sent me over the edge.
“You’re supposed to be an asshole,” I cried at him.
“He is. He’s just a compassionate asshole.”
“Don’t be mean to him,” I sobbed. Over the dog.
On a chuckle, Wolf stroked him before pulling me against his hard chest. “It’ll be okay, Jade.” He pressed my cheek against the warm material of his shirt, and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. “I promise.”
That made me cry more. When Wolf made a promise, he kept it.
I’d forgotten how soothing and safe it felt to have his arms wrapped around me, and despite the tears, it was the closest I’d come to feeling happy in as long as I could remember. That terrified me.
When my tears had calmed a few minutes later, Wolf released me. “You know what we need?” he said, pushing up from the mattress. “ Family Guy .”
I fought a smile. We used to watch that show all the time.
He grabbed his laptop from his desk, then came back to the bed, pulling up a Netflix account I was sure had been stolen—unless his name was now Bob.
The theme song came on, and he reclined back on the bed, pulling me with him.
I settled against his chest once more and pulled his scent deep into my lungs, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. In many ways, it was.
The rhythmic beat of his heart thrummed against my ear, trying to lull me to sleep.
But I fought it, fearing this bubble of temporary happiness would burst the second I closed my eyes, like a magic spell that ran out at first light or something.
I took a deep breath, trying to displace the knot of dread in my chest. His kindness would only make our entire situation hurt more in the morning.
I knew how to love Wolf, and I’d learned how to hate him so that I didn’t love him.
But the middle ground? I didn’t know how to navigate that.
How to take his help without falling for him.
The rumble of Wolf’s laughter beneath my cheek pulled me from my negative thoughts. I hadn’t heard him laugh since before we’d broken up. It was like being reminded of a song I used to love, one I’d forgotten about.
“I don’t get how Stewie can’t be your favorite,” he said.
I focused on the eloquently speaking baby and the talking dog on the screen. Yeah, when I thought about it, this show made no sense. But it was Wolf’s favorite.
“Bryan is an alcoholic, novelist dog.”
Wolf turned his head against the pillow, one of his dark brows inquisitively raised. “ Is he a novelist?”
“It’s the thought that counts, Wolf. Everyone wants to write a book, but do you know how many people finish one?”
“Nope…” The minty scent of his breath washed over my face, and my gaze flicked to his lips before I forced it back to his eyes.
When we were this close, it was hard not to fall into old habits, but that wasn’t what this was. He was simply a good person offering comfort to an old friend.
“Point is, he’s a tortured artist dog. Stewie is a psychopath baby.”
My fingers subconsciously flexed against his shirt, his chest warming my palm. “And that’s why I love Stewie. He’s an evil genius. He’d grow up to be a British world dictator.”
“He’s not British.”
I twisted to look at him. “What?”
“The Griffins are American.”
“ Stewie is British. Which, granted, is weird. I’m sorry, how have you been watching this for like, ten years, and not realized this?”
He narrowed his eyes at the laptop for a moment, listening to the very British accent. “What the fuck… I just thought he talked like a smart person.”
I laughed at the utter confusion on his face.
“Wow.” It felt good to laugh, to have a meaningless conversation that wasn’t all doom and gloom.
It felt like…before. Before everything started going to shit and we suddenly became strangers.
Before he’d changed his number and cut me out. Except he hadn’t…
This whole time, I’d been walking around, thinking I meant nothing to him.
That he hated me for leaving him, for wanting a break.
After I’d gotten off the phone with my mom, I’d checked my blocked contacts, and sure enough, there was Wolf’s number—bar one digit—saved as “sales call” and blocked.
I hadn’t done it. Which begged the question, who had?
No one had access to my phone or knew the password, aside from maybe Monroe and Cassie.
The number of nights I’d cried, praying for a message from him, an olive branch.
And yet, the entire time, he’d been trying to message me.
Those texts I’d seen on his phone earlier had been sent weeks and months apart. As though the pain had caught up with him intermittently and he’d had to message. Even knowing it wouldn’t go through. Even when he was with Nora…
Any one of those “I miss yous” would have had me running back into his arms in a heartbeat. Instead, we’d both spent the past year on the same campus, thinking the other person had hated them enough to cut contact.
Anger bubbled away inside me that someone would do that. I was mad for myself but also for Wolf. Those messages… He was heartbroken.
“I didn’t change your number or block you,” I said, needing him to know. “So, someone else must have somehow.”
“I have a good idea who.”
I glanced up through the dark at him, the light from the laptop screen flickering over his clenched jaw. “Who?”
He deadpanned me. “Come on, Jade.”