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Chapter Twelve
Jessie
"Arewegoingto lunch?" Remington asks, looping her arm through mine after our Supreme Court Seminar. "I'm starving."
"I'm not very hungry," I say, giving her a weak smile. The thought of food makes my stomach churn. It's been like that all week. I don't want to eat. I don't want to go to class. I just want to curl up in my bed and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. Unfortunately, Emma and Remington refuse to let me do that. They've joined forces to make sure I go to class. They drag me out to dinner.
"You have to eat."
"I will," I promise. "Just not right now."
"Fine." She gives me a firm glare. "I'll pick you up something."
"Okay." I know better than to argue. It won't get me anywhere. Risk and Devil think I'm stubborn, but they've never met Remington and Emma. They've got me beat by miles.
Remington gives my arm a squeeze and then hurries to catch up with a few of the girls from our seminar. I stand in the hallway of Dallas Hall, looking after them. I still have another class, but I really just want to go back to my dorm and mope. I've gotten good at that. Moping. Hiding out.
I miss Devil like crazy.
Does he miss me?
Does he hate me?
I thought I was doing the right thing, but nothing makes sense anymore. My heart keeps crying out for him and it just keeps growing louder. I feel like I'm drowning. Every day, I pick up my phone to call him, but I don't know what to say. I'm sorry doesn't feel adequate. I miss you doesn't come close. My heart is bleeding without him, and that's my own stupid fault.
I've never wanted anything as badly as I want him. I've never ached for anyone as acutely as I ache for him. He isn't just a piece of my heart, he's the whole damn thing. I should have told him that I'd wait for him for the rest of my life if that's how long it took. But I didn't say that. I was so hurt that he didn't trust me with the truth that I just…pushed him away. No, that's not true.
I told him to go.
He hurt me, so I did what I always do. I retreated. I threw up walls between us to keep him from seeing how damn badly he hurt me. Just like I always do. I got scared, so I hid. Just like I always do. Only you can't hide from your own mind. You can't outrun your own heart.
I didn't want to lose him or Risk, so I tried to cut him out. As if that would make it hurt less. As if that would make me love him any less or make him not being here hurt any less. It doesn't. It makes it worse. Because I did it to myself.
Risk told me I didn't have to carry it all. I should have listened.
I should have fought for Devil. I should have fought for us.
And I'm not okay with the fact that I didn't.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I wipe my face, surprised to find tears falling down my cheeks, and pull my phone out. Disappointment blooms in my chest when I see Risk's name flash across the display instead of Devil's.
"Hey," I say, answering his call.
"You've been fucking Devil," he growls in my ear.
Oh my God.
I plop down onto a bench outside of Dallas Hall, my knees too weak to hold me up.
"He told you," I whisper, my heart leaping and then falling and then leaping again. Does that mean the investigation is over? That he's finished with the case? Please, God. Please.
"So it is true." Risk sounds resigned, frustrated. But not furious.
I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But I've hidden the truth from him for long enough. I can't be mad at Devil for not being honest with me when I'm not being honest with Risk. I'm sick of hiding. I'm sick of pretending I'm not in love with his MC brother.
"No, it's not true," I say, my voice shaking. "What we're doing together isn't…that. It's not meaningless or casual. I'm in love with him."
He mutters a curse.
