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Chapter7
Macy
Dumbfounded doesn’t begin to describe the utter shock reverberating through me. Disagreements with parents happen. Hell, outright fights can happen. But that? All I can think is, what kind of father would say such terrible things to his son?
I watch as Jett is roughly shoved out of the way, and his dad whispers something I can’t hear. Jett’s clenches fists squeeze tighter, coloring his knuckles white.
It’s also the first time I’ve ever been insulted like that, and I truly cannot process the man’s words. I know he set out to hurt his son, and apparently, I was an easy target. What on God’s green earth could their relationship be like?
After a moment, Jett turns to me. “Let’s go.”
His face shows nothing, but the taught muscles of his neck and his brisk actions betray the level of hurt he’s carrying.
“Jett.”
I move to take his hand, but he spins around, leading us out to the parking lot.
Once we’re in the car, I test the waters, breaking the silence with an attempt to ease the pain I can see coursing through him. “He was probably still drunk. He didn’t mean those things.”
I put my hand over his on the center console. He doesn’t pull away, which I half-expected, but his eyes stay firmly trained on the road.
“He was sober,” Jett corrects me coolly.
“How can you be so sure?”
Jett scoffs. “Trust me. My dad says far worse when he’s drunk.”
My chest pinches, and tears threaten at the corners of my eyes. But I can’t fall apart like that. Jett doesn’t want to feel pitied, and I understand completely. However, there’s a lingering acceptance that burns under my skin. Jettbelieveswhat his father said, and that’s unacceptable.
“You have to know that none of what your father said was true. I mean, clearly, you didn’t pay for me, and—”
“Didn’t I, though? I used your debt to get you to sleep with me. I’m no better than he is.”
My mouth falls open, and the tears break free. The hollowness in Jett’s voice stings the air like toxic gas, and the light I’d watched grow behind his eyes has faded, empty and dull.
“I agreed to come with you,” I say fiercely. “And not just because of the money. I wanted to.”
“You don’t know what you want, Macy. I’ll just drop you off.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Jett’s eyes flare wide, and he finally looks at me.
“I make my own decisions, and I choose this. You’re right. It wasn’t cut and dry, but I had plenty of chances to work something else out with you. I wanted to be with you. I still do.”
Opening his mouth to speak, I hold up a finger at Jett, making him pause.
“I’m not done. You said strong, right? I’ve never felt that way. But with you?” I wait a second, letting the rhetorical response hang in the air. “So, no. You don’t get to take this away just because your dad is a dick. The week is not up, Mr. Saladino.”
Jett’s flabbergasted stare will be one of my favorite memories.
“Take me home, Jett.”
“As you wish, Macy.” He smiles at me. “As you wish.”
* * *
When Jett pulls into his parking spot, the trip up to his apartment is a flurry of teases and desperate kisses. We stumble over each other as Jett unlocks the door and guides us inside and into his bedroom.
