Chapter 60 #2
Jace is quiet for several seconds. When I find the courage to look at him, his reddened, tear-filled gaze peers out from over his hand. He blinks rapidly.
"That wasn't your fault. You can't blame yourself."
"You wanted to know what was bothering me," I reply, quieter.
Hardly above a whisper; I'm not sure he hears me, but I can't look at him anymore.
Instead, I focus on the empty street outside the windshield; quiet yards illuminated under streetlight.
"It started that night. I thought I fixed it. But ever since the break-in, I've been..."
The words die on my tongue. Saying them will feel like making it reality, breathing it to life.
"You've been what?"
"I've been losing it." Jace reaches out, clasping his hands around one of mine. It's difficult to admit that I don't have my shit together. He doesn't need to be worrying about me, but I can't keep this from him any longer.
If I do, I stand to lose him either because the secrecy becomes too much and he walks away or I watch him die because I'm careless and shit at communication.
"There's something I need to tell you," I start. He waits, tilting his head ever so slightly. His thumb continues its soothing motion across the back of my hand. "It's about me. About all the stuff that's been happening, the break-ins, I mean. It's all connected."
He frowns hard. Worry flashes across his face but for the most part, I can tell he's trying to figure out how it all fits. A beat passes. Then two. His eyebrows even out, realization brightening his green-eyed gaze.
"Your family has enemies."
I nod. "The man who killed my mother, he's one of them."
Jace's grip tightens for a heartbeat, then releases. He takes his hands back to his lap, a swift change in demeanor as his concern deepens. He remains silent, gazing out the window with round eyes; Adam's apple bobbing in an audible swallow to calm his nerves.
"He's back. I mean, he's been back for a while but until recently, he's done nothing worth flagging."
Jace's eyes widen and his brain seems to short-circuit. "He's...back? Why isn't he in prison?" His voice comes out a low, disbelieving rasp.
"He got out on good behavior."
"That's such bullshit."
"That's the official report, anyway."
He turns to me. "You suspect otherwise?"
I nod. "There was enough evidence to put him away for life. Enough for a death sentence but he got a sentence and later on became eligible for parole."
"So, a corrupt judge?"
I shrug. "Possible. Especially since the judge disappeared shortly after that murderer got out."
"So, it's all linked," he muses quietly, drumming his fingers against his knee. "And the story about the burglary ring?"
"Just a story. We didn't want to frighten you and your parents, but I can't keep you in the dark anymore. It's getting dangerous. And it's taking a toll on me. It's why I haven't been able to sleep unless you're next to me. I've been getting nightmares."
"What do you see in them? Is it your mom?"
I shake my head, turning to look at him. He doesn't get a verbal reply but whatever he sees on my face is answer enough. His eyebrows crease, nose scrunching – not in the usual adorable way I'm fond of but more like a sympathetic grimace.
He knows, now, what I see when sleep takes me.
Maybe not all of it, maybe not the pools of blood and the massacre in a living room very much like the Conners'.
Maybe not the three mutilated bodies, and he certainly doesn't know about the scream that echoes in those nightmares, or the cold sweat and terror that drives me awake.
But he's figured out enough to paint a picture.
"Jesus, Sky! You've been walking around carrying that by yourself. Have you told anyone besides me?"
I shake my head. "Everyone else would worry. My dad, especially."
"And I wouldn't?" he interrogates, scoffing in disbelief.
"I don't want to worry anyone. My dad's been through hell, and I can't push him back to that dark place. It took years for him to function properly again. And you're already dealing with enough. This is my fight."
"What then? You carry this in secret until it breaks you?"
He's angry. For a different reason, fueled by a raging concern which only reminds me of why I never wanted him to know. But secrets break even the best relationships and that's not what I want. He means too much to me.
Jace shakes his head. "No, you're not in this alone. You said this was a relationship. Not a fling or some experiment to satisfy a novelty. And I was serious earlier today at the shooting range. I'm going to become strong enough to protect you."
It means a lot, hearing those words that seem to strike somewhere deep down, unearthing truths about myself I hadn't thought to entertain before.
After Mom died, my father and I grieved separately. I saw what grief did to us and I made a promise to myself to become the strongest version so I could protect the people I love.
I've become so used to it that I hadn't realized I've forgotten how to ask for help for myself.
Still, "My world is dangerous, Jace. More dangerous than you think."
He sighs heavily, sinking into the seat. "My whole life, people have worried and taken care of me. For once, I want to be able to take care of someone I love. Is that so wrong?"