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He gives a small nod.
“Were you in the accident too?”
“No, I was at school.”
“What happened to you? Who took you in?”
“No one. I entered the foster system.”
“What? What about your family?”
“There was none. No will. My parents were only children. I never knew any of my grandparents.”
“That’s crazy. No distant cousins or friends of your parents? Were you adopted?”
“Do you see any other family pictures in here?”
I can’t believe this. How could he not have been adopted? Or have no family? I know older kids have a harder time, but it seems unlikely that a family wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.
“There had to have been someone.” I don’t mean to say the words out loud and when Jackson lets out a bitter laugh, I hate I even thought them, much less said them.
“Autumn, my story is already written, and it has no Hollywood ending. There was no one. I bounced from home to home until I turned eighteen. Then I inherited my parents’ estate, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to get a place of my own long enough to get my GED. Then I joined the Army and let them pay for college.”
I go to him and place a hand on his folded arms. “Who says that isn’t a Hollywood ending?”
His expression tightens in this mixture of anger and agony. “You think I’m proud of the struggles I’ve had to endure to get where I am? Fuck no. My life fucking sucked. All the people I was taught to trust were the very ones I couldn’t. When it’s easy for someone to mask their true self, it’s hard to trust what’s real and what’s not. I had to learn to play the game. My life was ugly and twisted and doesn’t deserve some Hollywood shine on it.”
His words break my heart as my gaze goes to his tattoo. I have a feeling his tattoo has very much to do with the ugly and twisted parts. I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him to me. He’s stiff and unmoving so I kiss his chest. He lets out a sigh that has him relaxing into me but doesn’t hug me back. “I don’t want your pity.”
I look up at him. “This isn’t pity. This is one friend comforting another.”
“Friends? Is that what we are? Friends don’t play actor instead of being real.”
I drop my arms and step away from him. Looks like we’re finally going to have it out. “Yeah, because you hurt my feelings. I told you things I haven’t told anyone, and you threw it in my face.”
“Because you were still holding back. There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
“Oh, and you’re ready to tell me about those ugly and twisted parts of your life?”
His jaw ticks in answer.
“Right. Maybe I’m not ready to tell you all my ugly and twisted parts either.”
He sighs and looks down. Then he reaches out and takes my uninjured hand, his thumb rubbing over my fingers. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hate that I did. It’s been killing me. I don’t…”
“Trust easily. Yeah, I get that now.” I sigh. “I don’t either. Not anymore.” I step fully into him, wrapping his arm around my waist as I wrap mine around his. “Maybe we can work on that together.”
I watch as a war of emotions play over his face before he quietly says, “I’d like that.”
His gaze drops to my lips. I stop breathing. So does he.
Suddenly, I’m tired of fighting this pull between us. I lift on my toes for the kiss I know we both want. As I close in, he grips my hips and pushes me an arm’s length away.
“Autumn, last night-”
“If you say it was a mistake, I might have to hurt you.”
His mouth flattens. “It can’t happen again.” He sighs and pushes his hand through his hair. “I want us to trust each other, and I want to be your friend. But my job is to keep you safe, and I can’t be distracted from that again.”
