Chapter 70 #2
"What'd you mean?"
His jaw tightens and mist glistens in his eyes.
It takes a while for him to get the words out, struggling to rein in his emotions as he fidgets and averts his attention to the center across the street.
He says nothing as a car pulls into the parking lot, the engine running, and then a girl around our age comes jogging across from the rehabilitation center and gets into the car.
He returns to fidgeting with his hands, interlocking his fingers and splaying his palms flat against his chest.
I brace myself for the worst. If he's behaving this way, it can only mean that whatever he lied about regarding his illness is bad and it's going to hurt.
And then when his confession comes, I'm still unprepared.
"It's no longer treatable." There's a tremble in his voice. He still doesn't look at me and it's probably best that he doesn't because the confession knocks me sideways. My hands slip from his waist. I'm about to reach up and touch his face, to force him to look at me when he continues.
"I found out the day finals started. That's why I went AWOL and you found me on the beach. Nothing's working anymore. The doctor says I don't have a lot of time left."
My mind swims. His fear and shame and anxiety rolls into me, crashing against the turmoil his confession brings and suddenly I don't know what to think or feel. I hear that last part of his confession echoing in my head, driving a twisting stake deeper and deeper into my chest.
The doctor says I don't have a lot of time left.
Why...?
How could he?
"How long?" I manage to get the most important question out despite the flood of rage and betrayal and general confusion and fear that bombards me.
Because now, instead of being haunted by images of Jace mutilated nearly beyond recognition, lying in a pool of his own blood, I'm going to be haunted by the sight of my mate slowly decaying, his life draining out of him bit by bit.
He'll continue losing weight. He'll eventually lose feeling and mobility in his limbs. His appetite might continue to decline.
And then...there will be nothing.
"How long, Jace?" The question comes out harshly when I repeat, a rough, impatient edge to my tone and loud enough that it draws a few curious stares from passersby. Jace flinches, his tears falling.
His hesitation grates on my nerves, the urgency to know growing to new heights, clawing at my chest. My heart pounds loudly and I'm rooted to the spot, a profound kind of fear slowly taking over.
I need to know.
I have to know what I'm working with.
"A...A few months. Until the end of the year. Maybe."
"Fuck!"
I step away, hardly able to believe what I'm hearing.
"Sky –" Jace snaps his mouth shut when he reaches for me and I avoid his touch. His eyes go wide and he presses himself against the side of the car, staring up at me through tear-filled eyes when I advance on him.
"We got together after you found out. Why didn't you tell me?"
I feel the prick of tears behind my own eyes.
They blur my vision. "We have spent almost everyday together for the last two weeks. I've been to your house, slept in your bed, and made you breakfast. You had so many opportunities...why didn't you tell me?"
His lips tremble, but quietly, his confession comes.
"I was scared. I was afraid you'd think I was a waste of time, and that you'd leave. I wanted to tell you so many times, but you've been angry at me before when you thought I betrayed you. You looked at me with so much hate, and I couldn't handle it if you looked at me like you used to."
He breathes in heavily and shakes his head.
"Like how you're looking at me now."
"Because how can you keep something like this from me? This is your life, Jace."
"I'm sorry –"
"Don't apologize," I snap. "You had too many chances to tell me the truth. How many times have I asked you what you were hiding, yet you kept avoiding the question or gave me half-truths that I ran with because I didn't want to pressure you."
"Sky –"
"I had a right to know, Jace." He falls silent at that, eyes downcast and his body rigid with tension. The next time he looks up, it's because I've fished the key fob out of my pockets and unlocked the doors.
"You're leaving?"
"What did you expect?" I snap, moving him out of the way to get to the driver's side. "Did you think I'd be able to carry on as if nothing's wrong after finding out my boyfriend may not live to see next year? You should go back inside. Head home with your mom. I can't be around you, right now."
The look on his face damn near kills me. He looks completely shattered, as though I've reached inside his chest with my own hands and ripped out his still-beating heart. As much as it pains to see him this way, as much as it hurts to stay away, I have no choice.
There's too much tension. Too many emotions spiraling out of control.
Far too many scenarios playing through my mind with no good ending. Too many images of flashes from my nightmares that come rushing back to haunt me with eyes wide open.
Turning my back to him, I get in the car and start up the engine, avoiding eye contact through the window and windshield as I drive out of the rehab center's car park.
But I do look back.
In the rear view, his figure grows smaller and smaller the farther I retreat.
Yet, the image of his shattered expression, the slumping shoulders, and tears in those eyes join the legion of nightmare-fuel, twisting and deforming the already existing flashes of my nightmare into something far more monstrous.
I hear that gods-forsaken conversation ringing in my head, slamming me back to the night Kevin Sommers tried breaking into the Conners' house.
...he's going to keep sending people until he gets what he wants.
Uh-huh. And what does your boss want?
The end of your bloodline.
Pulling over on the side of the road, my fist slams into the steering wheel.
Over and over until the steering wheel cracks.
Jessop is winning.
He wants to drive my bloodline into extinction.
Jace is dying.
I'm spiraling.
Dad is behaving strangely.
At this rate, if we don't get our shit together, Jessop won't have to lift a finger.
We'll implode all on our own.