Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“Of course, I still love you. How could I not?” I reach for his hand, curling my fingers lightly around his. “You seem to have mistakenly placed me on a pedestal.”
“That’s because you’re perfect,” he says, dragging his gaze over my face.
“No, I’m not.” I squeeze his hand gently, urging him to listen to me. “Jensen, please take a breath. Quiet your mind—”
“I don’t think mediation is the answer right now.” He lets out a humorless laugh.
I tilt my head and give him my sternest stare. “Your cute quips aren’t needed right now. I want you to actually hear what I’m saying, not sit there churning up excuses to give me when I’m finished speaking.”
He closes his eyes and draws in a long breath, then slowly exhales like he’s forcing himself to shut out everything else.
“Thank you.” I place my hand over his. “I love you. You have more courage than anyone I’ve ever known—”
“Make no mistake, Margot. I went back for my sister. But I went back for revenge too. I was planning to kill him whether I found him hurting Jezzie or not.” He swallows hard. “He was a dead man.”
“And you should know that I understand that better than anyone. However.” I take a breath. “If you make a mistake, I have no problem telling you so—”
“So you admit I made a mistake?” A spark of vindication lights his eyes.
“No.” I squeeze his earlobe and gently tug. “List-en-ing, remember?”
He snaps his mouth shut. Probably a rare occurrence.
I wait a beat to see if he’ll remain quiet.
“Even if you make a mistake, I’ll still love you. I love you so much that I’ll tell you you’ve made a mistake, and I’ll try to help you fix it.”
He swallows hard and slowly nods.
“But I meant what I said,” I continue before he jumps in again. “I don’t think the way you handled things when you were a teenager was a mistake. I think what you did was compassionate and empathetic.”
“How?” His eyes widen in disbelief. “How can you say that?”
“Oh, buddy.” I let out a weary laugh. “Buckle up because I have a list of reasons for you.” I hold up my hand, curling it into a fist and stick out my thumb. “One, you could’ve not gone back for your sister at all. It sounds like you had a good life with Rooster’s family.”
He opens his mouth—probably to object—but I quickly cut him off with a headshake. “I know things were hard there too. His aunt and uncle sound like they were good people who died way too young. But in the middle of your grief, you still made your sister a priority. You rescued her. It sounds like you saved her life. Or saved her from a traumatic injury.”
His eyes shine and he closes them, slowly turning his head away.
I won’t let him sink into those dark memories. “Stay with me.” I squeeze his hand.
He nods but still doesn’t look at me.
“You could’ve just grabbed Jezzie and run,” I say. “That would’ve been the easiest thing. But you didn’t.”
His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
“You could’ve killed your father and left everyone else to rot—but you didn’t. Even though someone might’ve seen you, might’ve turned you in… you didn’t hurt anyone else.”
I keep my voice steady. “You could’ve taken the money and vanished. But instead, you tried to do right by the people your father hurt. You tried to restore his victims in the best way you could.”
The enormity of what he actually did catches in my throat. “Your actions were thoughtful and kind at an age where most men only care about getting laid and partying.”
He meets my stare head-on. “I did plenty of that afterward. I’m not a hero, Margot.”
How cute, he thinks he can scare me away with his playboy past. As if I didn’t already know. “You’re a brother. A good friend. And the best boyfriend.”
“Such a great boyfriend that I took a joyride to Maine instead of telling you what a fuckup I am?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Your communication skills need improvement.” My lips curve into a teasing smile. “But I’m willing to work with you.”
He slides his hands over my hips, holding me in place. “You’re like this shining light for me. All goodness and warmth. I want to bask in that and keep you away, far away, from the bad things in my life.”
“Jensen.” I use the most patient, authoritative tone I can muster. “I live in a funeral home. I’ve been surrounded by death and darkness from birth. It’s twisted me in ways you already know.” I cup his face, staring into his questioning eyes. “I love you. And I accept all of you. Not just the fun parts.”
“Thank you,” he rasps.
“But don’t do this to me again,” I add with a harsher bite to my tone than I intended. “The days of silence. Worrying about you. Not knowing where we stand.” My throat tightens. “It was humiliating asking Wrath if you were okay. And I felt like an idiot texting Shelby.”