Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Jamie rushed toward me, palm to my cheek. “I couldn’t stop hitting him.” Before I could speak, he enveloped me in a tight embrace that erased every despicable thought targeted toward myself. “Did he hurt you?”
“A-a little.”
Jamie took a step back, scrutinizing me with eyes I could’ve sworn belonged to an attentive doctor, with love and tenderness and training in his gaze. His eyes zeroed in on my chest, where wet teeth marks sunk into the nylon sports bra, and a look that could kill passed over his face.
“Listen, I uh, I feel dirty.” I was honest with myself and him. “I just want to go back to your place.”
Jamie corrected me. “Our home.”
Silence followed us there.
When I stepped into the house, Rebel pranced around me as if the Rottweiler had turned rabbit while Jamie strolled straight for the stairs. I fell to my knees, allowing her to kiss me. Lick away the disgust from the other man’s unwanted touches. “You’re such a good girl. In these past six weeks, you’ve become my best friend. You make me feel, Rebel.”
I scratched behind the Rottie’s ears, then got up, following the sound of rushing water. Jamie kneeled in front of the freestanding tub. Sudsy water rose. He poured in enough bath oil for my rear to slide all the way down to Mexico. Then more. And more.
“Jamie.”
As if I brought him out of dark shadows, his head turned in a flash.
I jumped.
“I’m sorry, Jordyn.” He stood on his feet so quickly that I had to force myself not to jump again. Remind me not to get on his bad side. Not a counterattack in the world could save me. He muttered, “I don’t … I don’t murder.”
“Jamie, what are you talking about? The man’s not dead.”
A crack sounded between us. He went through each knuckle.
“That’s a bad habit,” I told him, taking his hands into mine. I lifted his fingers to my mouth and kissed each knuckle individually. Just when I placed a finger to my lips to pop it in, Jamie pulled away.
His voice was gruff. “I don’t. We can’t.”
“Seems to me you don’t do a lot of things. You don’t murder. Which is fine. I understand the difference between killing a man to defend me or you.”
Jamie seemed stuck, like he was on another planet. I pulled out of my bra. Maybe that was the disconnect between us? As a fellow assault victim, the sight of my clothing could’ve triggered him. Though the wet bite marks had long faded during our walk home, he might still see that. Good thing the homeless guy’s bite didn’t leave a bruise. My heart hurt for Jamie. Yes. More for him than me. I was used to it. I slipped out of my running shorts. Then I glanced down at myself—everything was on display, and I mean everything—and then looked him in the eye.
The issue was that he looked me in the eye. Okay, so where are we? “You don’t murder. The guy’s probably licking his wounds in that alley still. But what’s this other don’t? What do you mean ‘we can’t’?”
“I murdered a man when I was fifteen. I used a baseball bat. He’d snuck on my—MacKenzie land. Had beef with Brody’s girlfriend. Brody and Justice are married now.” Jamie shook his head as if realizing that fact was irrelevant. “I thought he was there for me. To take me back.” Jamie scrubbed a hand over a jaw I didn’t mind nibbling on. “Couldn’t go back. Didn’t feel bad about that. But when I was sixteen. …”
My stomach knotted. Had he killed someone else?
“The guy’s name was Hector. He was a landscaper in Barstow. I stole his truck. Pretended that I’d become a landscaper to cut the lawn at Willow’s place. Her sister’s home. Ended up building a swing set in the middle of the night. Scared Willow.” Jamie took a deep breath. “I wanted to keep Camdyn, my brother, from her. Protect her. Protect the baby. Hector”—his eyes darkened with guilt—“he was old, didn’t have any family.”
My head tilted. Willow? A sister-in-law? As greedy as I was for Jamie, this wasn’t the conversation I wanted to discuss. But he deserved my full attention.
“It doesn’t justify my actions, but I wasn’t in a good place.”
The ache in my chest bloomed. Jamie was broken, like me, and just wanted to protect Willow’s baby. In Jamie’s world, playgrounds were dangerous.
“I promised my family and myself that I would be more accountable from that day on,” he murmured, reaching for a towel and handing it over.
I took it, meeting his gaze—those beautiful turquoise eyes drowning in pain. But I saw past the guilt.
Pride surged in me.
I dropped the towel like I needed to reclaim something. Control, maybe? I didn’t like this part—where we actually saw each other. Where we cared. Because then he’d say goodbye, and I wouldn’t be ready for that.