Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Jennifer
Mase shifts his head closer on my pink-and-black-checkered pillow, tangling his legs with mine under the blanket before he lifts a hand to push some strands of hair behind my ear, running his fingers through to the ends. “I’m so proud of you.”
After we collapsed onto my bed, I recounted what happened tonight with Mark. We’ve been a mess of tangled limbs, barely keeping an inch of space between our bodies.
My smile is sleepy as I gaze back at him. “It was all because of you, you know? If you hadn’t convinced me to take your classes . . .”
Mase’s expression turns stoney, his legs tightening on instinct while he continues playing with my hair, his eyes chasing the motion of his fingers.
“I don’t want to think about what could have happened.
He’s lucky I wasn’t here to stop him. I wouldn’t have been as kind as I was the last time I saw him. ”
Those words remind me of my father, and what he had said when I told him about Dylan. Which then brings to mind something else he said, about someone having a vendetta against Dylan.
Could it have been Mase?
Would I really care if it were him?
My eyes trace the cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the shape of his brows.
“I went and saw my father last week.”
Dark eyes flicker to me. “You did?”
My cheek rubs against the pillow as I nod. “It went much better than expected. I told him almost everything.”
“Almost everything?”
I trail a finger over the scarred skin of my opposite forearm laying between us while Mase tracks the movement. I wonder if he noticed there aren’t any fresh cuts.
“I didn’t tell him every part of how I spent the two years punishing myself, and I didn’t tell him what happened the night I told you.”
Mase’s lips turn down, and I regret bringing it up right now.
Sometimes at night, his panicked and distraught face will flash in my mind to haunt me. Each time I see his glossy eyes in front of me is like a punch to the gut.
“What happened wasn’t your fault, Mase.” I lift a palm and press it to his stubbled cheek, watching as his lids flutter closed. “For a long time, I felt like everyone would be better off without me. And I hated myself for so long . . . those feelings all came together in the worst way that night.”
Turning his face, he kisses my palm, then he reaches for me, clutching me to his body. “I wouldn’t be better off without you.”
I breathe in his scent, choosing not to say anything in response. I’m still working on all of it, day by day.
Guilt will stay with me for the rest of my life, woven into the fabric of my being.
I can’t change what happened in the past.
I can’t give back the time I stole from Jacob.
But I can try to fix things going forward.
“Dylan is dead,” I say after a moment of silence. I feel Mase’s body tense against mine, and I pull back enough to look at his face, my eyes pinging back and forth between his. “First, he was attacked, then his car was vandalized, after that it was a hit and run that killed him.”
I swallow, considering my next words. Would he answer if I asked?
Do I want to know?
Am I being ridiculous for even considering it?
“Was it . . . was it you?”
The silence pulses between us. I hold my breath and he holds my gaze, steady and unyielding.
I decide, here and now, that even if it were him, it wouldn’t change how I feel about him. I would take that knowledge with me to the grave to protect him.
“Yes, I beat the shit out of him,” he answers, surprising me despite my asking.
There’s not an ounce of remorse in his voice.
“But no, I didn’t kill him. I can’t say I didn’t think about it, though.
He attacked you, taunted you, and threatened you.
He was a piece of shit who needed to be taken off the streets.
” Inhaling, he pauses for a moment. “But I wouldn’t have been able to help you or my mom from prison. ”
My mouth falls open as I stare at him, not knowing what to say.
Is there something wrong with me that my heart expands with love, instead of being disturbed by what he just said?
I push up to press a kiss to his cheek, lingering before laying back down on the pillow beside him. “Thank you.”
“For not killing him?”
“For fucking him up.”
The side of his mouth twitches. “You’re welcome.”
As if he needs to keep touching me, he runs his fingers through my hair again, the touch more than soothing for me.
“So, I guess it was all a coincidence then,” I muse.
“Or the universe took matters into its own hands.”
If that’s the case, then I need to thank the universe.
I sigh. “Dad suggested I wait a little while before I try anything, since Dylan only just died.”
“It might be a good idea after tonight’s incident as well.”
My brows dip. “You’re right. Who knows what they’ll think.”
I’m sure blaming a freshly dead man of raping me, after I already accused someone else, right after the attempted attack tonight, might make me seem mentally unstable, less believable.
I guess I am mentally unstable. My hospital stay is evidence of that.
God, they’re not going to believe me.
“At least Jacob is already out of prison,” I murmur quietly.
I meant it as a good thing, but the words start twisting in my mind, making my insides feel anything but positive about it.
Him being out of prison means he served the full sentence—barring a few months—and that’s a damn long time for someone innocent to be in there.
What must that have done to him?
It was all my fault. All of it, not just ruining Jacob’s life.
I feel the black tendrils creeping back into my psyche, like rot trying to spread.
How could I feel so high just moments ago, and now feel like I’m falling without a parachute?
I don’t want to go backwards. I don’t.
“Hey.” My attention jerks back to the moment, Mase’s face coming back into focus, his hands cradling my cheeks. The tendrils start to recede. God, he’s so perfect. “Where’d you go?”
I blink a few more times, trying to squash the burning behind my eyes. “I was thinking about the mess I’ve made of everyone’s lives . . . including yours. I’m so sorry for wrecking your friendships with the guys.”
It’s something I’ve thought about a lot lately, and I would love to somehow fix it if I could.
Mase shakes his head, his eyes downcast. “I was already sabotaging those friendships myself. Acting like a dick, not letting them see the real me. I probably would have lost them, anyway.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know I wasn’t close with them like they were with each other.”
“You could try to reach out, explain things to them once I move forward with trying to get Jacob’s name cleared,” I suggest hopefully.
“I don’t think so.”
My hopes fall to the floor. “Why not?”
“Well, even if I didn’t already burn those bridges, I don’t think this”—he looks between us—“situation would go down very well.”
“This situation?” My forehead scrunches. “What—”
It hits me suddenly like a splash of icy cold water to the face, and I shoot up to a sitting position. This situation. As in, him with me, the person who put their innocent friend behind bars.
Oh God. Of course it wouldn’t look good for Mase to be with me.
I twist to face him. “You should have your friends back, Mase. You shouldn’t give them up for me. You shouldn’t just forgive me for what I did. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask me to,” he says, propping himself up on an elbow as I slide my legs over the side of the bed. “Where are you going?”
“It’s selfish of me to want to keep you.” A shiver runs through me as the cool air meets my bare skin, but I ignore it as I search the floor around the bed for some clothes from where I sit. “I’m sure if you told the guys why you reacted the way you did, they would understand.”
“Jayne.”
I find a single white sock and pull it on.
“Jayne.”
My pajama shorts from last night pop up next, but no underwear.
“Jayne.”
Before I can reach for the next item I see, Mase slinks an arm around my stomach and hauls me back to the bed, trapping me beneath him.
Inky hair hangs over his forehead as he looks down at me. “Where are you going?”
“You deserve to have your friends. You deserve to be surrounded by people who care about and love you.”
People might hate him just for being associated with me. It would be similar to his childhood.
“And you?”
“I’m the last person who deserves any of that.”
Mase shakes his head, his expression appearing almost disappointed as he glides a finger over my cheek. “Wrong answer.” His finger moves from my cheek to brush over my lips, then chin. “You said your dad didn’t know about Dylan, right?”
“He didn’t.”
“So, you forgive him for keeping Dylan employed?”
My forehead bunches, unsure of what point he’s trying to make. “Of course I do. He didn’t know.” I shift underneath him, the warmth of his skin chasing away the cold. “What are you getting at?”
Mase’s sigh is heavy. “My point is that you easily forgive your father for harboring a sexual predator when he didn’t know. Yet you feel like you are undeserving of any type of forgiveness when you also didn’t know.”
I almost laugh. “Keeping someone employed and sending someone to prison are completely different scenarios.”
“I know that. I really do. But do you honestly think you should be punished forever for a mistake? A mistake you made as a teenager, no less. Are you that unforgiveable?”
I swallow, dropping my gaze to his throat. He won’t like my answer to that.
Reading the response on my face, he tilts my chin back up to look at him.
“Let me get this straight. You were sexually assaulted, and sent who you thought was the attacker to prison, then you suffered with the aftermath of that attack, lost your friends, dropped out of college, and let go of your dreams. Then you find out the truth and are given an ultimatum, and you choose to protect your father and thousands of others while letting yourself be destroyed from the inside out. And still, you think you’re unforgiveable? ”
I continue staring into his dark eyes. “Forgiving myself feels like I’m somehow betraying Jacob all over again. I keep thinking, why should I be happy when he likely isn’t.”
He looks me over, frustration there for sure, but there’s also understanding.
“I hope someday you realize that moving on doesn’t mean you’re condoning actions, or that you don’t care about what happened.
It’s learning and growing. Using what you’ve learned to make a better version of yourself.
And just know this: I have chosen to forgive you, even if you haven’t.
And if you’ll have me, I’m choosing to be with you, no matter what happens moving forward. ”
There’s a tenderness in his gaze that almost undoes me, forcing tears to well up and spill down the side of my face. How can anybody be this fucking perfect?
And this is coming from the same man who believed he was evil.
“Even if I were to forgive myself one day, I will never deserve you, Mase.”
Wiping away a fresh tear, he rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. “Maybe that’s what makes the best type of relationship. If both people feel like they don’t deserve the other, they’ll always be striving to be better for them, and not take their love for granted.”
“You might be right,” I whisper, my throat tight.
He dries the other side. “Are you willing to give it a try with me?”
My entire body melts beneath him.
How could anyone deny him anything?
How could he expect anyone to deny him?
“It’s a crime for you to think you’re worth anything less than an immediate yes.”
I’ve never met a more kind or giving soul. And as if that wasn’t enough, to complete the package, he’s gorgeous beyond words with his dark features, kissable lips, and incredible body.
His lips pull to one side in a wry smile, and suddenly, the full extent of what he just said starts to sink in.
“Wait, you still think those bad things about yourself?”
A soft sigh leaves his lips as he slides to the side, keeping one leg draped over mine but allowing me movement again. “I’m working on it. I’ve been talking to someone about it as well.”
“Really?”
His chin dips, dark eyes brushing over my face. “I figured you were right . . . that while you were working on yourself, I should work on me.”
I reach up to finger the strands of hair falling over his forehead. “I’m glad.”
Silence encompasses us as we stare at one another, absorbing the closeness between us, while dusting light touches across our bare skin.
Looking up at the painting above my bed, Mase smiles. “You’re just like that dahlia, you know? It appears black at first glance, but you just need to look a little closer to see there’s a beautiful color there.”
God, he practically reaches in and tears the black tendrils out of my mind with his words. And I know for sure that I’ll be able to face anything with him by my side.
“Will you come with me to talk to a lawyer with my parents when it’s time?”
“Absolutely.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss on my lips before settling back on the pillow beside my head.
I let out a contended sigh, watching the beautiful man in my bed as his gaze wanders around my bedroom, settling on the old window.
“You know, I still have a spare bedroom. If you ever get too cold here, you can always come back.” A small smile tugs at my lips as he turns back to me. “I’d prefer if you slept in my bed, though.”
With a soft laugh, I snuggle in closer. “I think I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You should also know that you’d need to share the space with my cat.”
I rear back, my eyes lighting up. “Your cat?”
“Mm, I got her to keep me company.”
Pressing my lips together, I nod while trying to bite back a smile, then reposition myself against him. “I’ll keep that in mind as well.”