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I needed to step back and let him go. I needed to go back to my house and pour all my energy and emotions into finishing the renovations enough that I could live there instead of becoming more and more comfortable in the apartment above Dallas and Nolan’s garage. I needed to build out my practice like I’d planned and settle into the comfortable, quiet life I’d envisioned when I’d moved to Pelican Bay.
But I didn’t do any of that.
Instead, I gently captured Jett’s mouth with mine. I fully expected him to push me away, to ask me what the fuck I was doing as he wiped his mouth in disgust and turned his back on me.
He didn’t.
He kissed me back. For a few brief seconds I thought everything would be okay. That my Jett would come back to me and I could beg him for forgiveness, not the empty shell of a man who’d so easily dismissed me.
But when Jett’s fingers curled into my hair and tightened just a little at the same time that he turned his head away, I knew it wasn’t going to be okay. Yes, my Jett was back, I could feel it in the way he gripped me, in the way he struggled to catch his breath. I could also feel it in the fact that he wouldn’t look at me. His eyes were shut and he was keeping his head turned, probably so I couldn’t kiss him again. He was back but I knew what would happen next would truly be the end.
“I trusted you,” was all he said a moment later, his words catching in his throat a little.
I knew that telling him I was sorry wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough.
When my knees buckled, I didn’t fight it. Instead, I dropped to the ground in front of his chair and let my cheek settle on one of his thighs. “I never meant to hurt you,” I said softly.
Fingers ghosted over my hair and I swore I heard him say, “Me too,” but I couldn’t be sure. When the touch ended, I forced myself to sit back enough that I was no longer touching him. The position put me a little lower than Jett, so I had to look up to meet his eyes.
“Sawyer!” I heard a voice call.
A voice I knew better than I knew my own.
But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.
“Sawyer,” the voice said but this time there was a heavier quality to it that carried a silent command I couldn’t ignore. I rose shakily to my feet and let my eyes brush over Jett with longing one last time before I slipped my mask back on and turned to face the man calling out to me.
So Marcus’s last words to me hadn’t been a threat, but a promise.
He’d found me just like he’d said he would.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JETT
Even if Sawyer hadn’t gone whiter than a sheet when he’d heard his name being called, I would have known who the guy was.
Every word Sawyer had used to describe the asshole when they’d first met was spot-on. He was stunningly handsome and everything about him screamed money, from the cut of his suit to the way he moved. But even as the fucker smiled at Sawyer, I could see it.
The fury.
The resolve.
It was in his eyes. There was no warmth, no joy, no relief. He wasn’t looking at Sawyer like a man who was happy to see the man he loved.
No, he looked like someone who knew he’d finally won.
Marcus wasn’t alone. Maddox was with him, probably acting as his escort so the man could find his long-lost lover.
“Marcus,” Sawyer said, his voice stiff and uneven. His fingers automatically went to his hair, specifically the blond roots that had been growing out more and more each day. I’d never thought to ask him about the contrast in color, but I knew in my gut the asshole walking toward us was part of it. If Sawyer had been fingering his hair like he was embarrassed that he didn’t look his best, I would have minded my own business. I would have watched the joyous little reunion and played the role of polite houseguest before making some excuse to head to my room.
But nothing in Sawyer’s frame or voice said he was happy to see Marcus, so as the man closed the distance between us, I began to roll my chair in front of Sawyer to provide a physical barrier between the two men.
To my surprise, Marcus stopped when he was a good ten feet away and while his eyes shifted to me for the briefest of moments, he didn’t move from his spot. He simply… waited.
Not for long, though, because less than a dozen seconds later, Sawyer was stepping around me and walking straight to Marcus. He didn’t run to him, he didn’t shuffle his feet in hesitation, he just walked right to the man. He stopped briefly right in front of Marcus but only long enough for Marcus to open his arms. I felt sick as Sawyer went willingly and even pressed his lips to Marcus’s cheek.
