Page 47 of The Unravelings

“No! There’s nothing to figure out, Jasper,” I spit his name with all the venom I can muster. “You killed me. You, Hux, Mack, and Franco came to my home, sliced our throats, and left us to die in the fire you set.”

“Look at me, baby,” JJ grits out, forcing my gaze to his. “Really fucking look at me,” he full-body sobs. “Do you think… Do you think that we would do that? That we’d—” He stops short and licks his lips. “That we’d ever consider doing that. We fucking love you. We mourned you. We weren’t the same after you died…after we had to bury you.”

“You didn’t even cry at my funeral,” I whimper. “You didn’t…”

“How…how do you know that?” he asks, brushing his thumb softly against the scars on my cheek.

I immediately look away, hating the goosebumps spreading across my flesh. The seeds of doubt worm their way into my skull. I saw what I saw. Heard what I heard. But…did I? They wore masks. But their eyes. They were the same shade, with the same sparkle.

I don’t answer his question. Every ounce of me is spent and ready to return to bed, but I can’t. Now, I have to face this new reality of JJ knowing exactly who I am and being responsible for my grades. I could skip all the tutoring sessions and fail out of this stupid college, but somehow, I know Jonathan would punish me for it. Somehow, he’d get me back in here as someone else, doing the same investigation.

It would be a never-ending circle.

Not to mention the others. If he’s told them and held them off, they could be coming in here at any minute to do…I don’t know.

“When we came back from our mission, Franco sat us down in his office to tell us you had…had perished. That we had lost you. I wanted to cry. I wanted to…to fucking find you and hold you and take you to the treehouse and protect you. We failed you. We had to leave you behind and—” He shakes his head. “We failed you,” he repeats, sniffling. “But we didn’t do that, Spitfire. Please believe me.”

“I-I can’t… I…” I shake my head again, aching to leave his arms and run to the safety of my dorm.

JJ swallows hard, some sort of understanding crossing his features. “I need to gain your trust again,” he whispers. “You won’t take my word for it, will you? You really think we did it?” There’s an edge of hurt in his voice, but he doesn’t back away or throw accusations.

“I saw your eyes,” I whisper, swallowing my emotions. “You were hidden behind masks, but your eyes were the same. You held me down. Laughed at me. Told me you used me while Franco cut their throats and then—” I raise my chin as his eyes fall to the scar across my throat. It’s a vulnerable position. My murderer, standing taller than me, staring at the carnage he created. Or maybe not created.

I shudder when his fingers brush against the scar across my throat, following it from ear to ear.

“Livy. You were hurt,” he sobs again, finding the remainder of my scars from the fire that almost killed me. “You got out of the fire. You survived everything. You’re right before my eyes and⁠—”

“Have you told them yet?” I don’t know why I let him continue touching me in such a way that has my muscles relaxing. I’m nowhere near trusting him or even believing his story.

His movements slow but don’t stop as he traces the scars on my face. “It almost felt like a dream to walk into that dorm room and know it was you.”

“How?”

“You… You destroyed your headstone.” His brows furrow. “And I followed your SUV on the cameras; it led me straight to you…straight to the hotel with that old guy. Who the fuck is that guy?” His voice hardens.

“None of your business,” I quickly say. “You don’t get to barge into my life again and demand answers.”

I expect pushback or more words, but he nods, taking a step back and shoving his hands into his pockets, giving me a wounded look. But there’s understanding there. There’s something there that he’s not saying to me.

“You’re right,” he says slowly. “But I want to…I want to know everything. I want to ask you so many more questions. I—” He wipes a hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes. “I haven’t told them, to answer your earlier question. I was going to, but you ran off. I didn’t know if it was real or a fantasy or—” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell them.”

“Couldn’t? Are you now?” I ask, swallowing hard.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No,” I state.

“Not yet, then.” His lips roll together.

“Never,” I say, shaking my head. “They can’t know.”

“Come to the tutoring sessions,” JJ encourages. “Sit with me. Study with me. I’ll teach you.”

“You aren’t even in those classes; how can you tutor me in them?” I bite my tongue about taking these classes before, because he doesn’t deserve to know those pieces of me.

“We’ll start tomorrow evening in the library.”

“And if I don’t show?” I ask, raising a brow.