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He’s quiet, taking in my pleas, my words—the ones I’d said before that somehow had a different meaning. Sitting back, he covers his eyes with his hand. I let him stew in his thoughts while my own roar in my ears. There is nothing more for me to say.
The car pulls over to a complete stop, and I shuffle over to the opposite door to climb out. Carrie’s waiting on the stoop, and she stands up to walk down the stairs as I round the back of the car. “You changed the lock! The key I have doesn’t work anymore!”
“Sorry, I forgot I did that after Liam left, so he couldn’t sneak back in.” I lie, a sour taste on my tongue. Jack climbs out of the back seat to lift the trunk, hoisting my bag out for me. Carrie takes my suitcase, digging around the front pocket for my keys before heading back up to my brownstone. Looking up at the house, I clench my hand into a fist by my side.
“Heather,” Jack calls, and I look over at him questioningly. “I won’t make you lie anymore. Can I come in?”
“You’ll tell Carrie?” I ask in guarded surprise, and he jerks his head in a nod. He’d risk everything by telling Carrie about the assassinations, the corruption, the whole Mafia shtick. But his eyes are serious, face grave and stony. “You can come in, but don’t—don’t tell her. From here, this moment—this second—no more lies. No lies, nothing. If you can’t, just say you can’t.”
“This second,” Jack echoes me, and I nod firmly. He catches my gaze firmly, discomfort slithering along his jaw and tightening the muscles in his neck. “I love you,” he breathes while drowning his eyes in mine. “Those three words—they are the ones. I’ll work my ass off to earn them back. No lies, nothing.”
EPILOGUE
Heather
Six months later...
“Jack, what’re you doing here?” I carefully climb off the desk I'm standing on as I look over at the front of my classroom. He smiles at me, leaning against the doorframe and leisurely crossing his arms over his chest. He walks over, holding a bag, as I clap my hands, trying to get rid of the sticky residue. “What’s that?”
“A congratulations gift for finally getting to third grade,” Jack replies, and pleasant surprise worms through my veins. Holding out the bag, he nods encouragingly before I take it. “School starts in three weeks. Summer school’s not even over. You’re decorating your classroom already?”
“I’m excited! It’s been a long year, and there is much to do,” I chirp in reply. “You didn’t answer my question. What’re you doing here?”
“Reminding Principal McKillingly that he’s done me a mighty favor,” Jack’s grin broadens, and I frown, puckering out my lips. “A mighty enough favor to buy him some credit. Thankfully, he’s a responsible debtor and just needed a little nudge to keep your promotion going through. He did tell me you better not get mugged again, or you’ll be demoted to substitute.” Everything felt different now. I trust Jack more than anything and I want to share all the areas of my life with him. I smiled at the realization that love had made me change my mind so drastically.
“I’m not the one that decides whether or not I get mugged, so,” I shrug, and Jack chuckles as I lean against the desk and open the bag. Digging through the tissue paper, I am surprised at the little box sitting at the bottom of the bag. It’s clearly a ring box, and I look up at him suspiciously. “What’s this? The last time you asked, I told you I won’t marry you, Jack. It’s just too much pressure. Marriage is a sham.”
“Just open it,” he gripes, walking over to me to wrap his arm around my shoulders. I hum, popping open the top, and my throat tightens in excitement. True to form, the ring box doesn’t hold a ring but a piece of paper stuffed into the velvet fold. “You’re gonna love it, Heather.”
I unfold the paper, and it’s a plane ticket to Hawaii. Confusion worms through my veins as I unfurl the other ticket. It’s not Jack’s name on the top, though.
“Carrie? You’re sending us to Hawaii?” I ask, looking over at Jack as he nods, extremely pleased with himself.
“For five days. Nothing too crazy, just something before the school year starts. I know you don't get a lot of time together because she lives in New York, so I thought this would be a nice present for you both," Jack responds, a satisfied lilt in his tone. I hum, not believing him, and he wears a sheepish expression. "It also wouldn't hurt to make her like me more. I'll be meeting with my New York counterpart, which you probably don't want to be here for. Cian is quite the... character."
“You do this thing where you start with the good stuff, and it just gets progressively worse the more you explain yourself,” I muse, and Jack shrugs lightly, trying to hide his embarrassment. Folding the tickets, I lean my head on his shoulder to close my eyes and relish his warmth. “New York. Are you going there?”
“No, he’ll be coming here,” Jack answers, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully with one hand and my back with the other. “He’s the reason I hate that city.”
“I’ll take that at face value. He doesn’t know about me?” I ask.
“You don’t want him to know about you, Heather. Trust me. I’ll handle it. You make sure you drink enough to last you a school year, okay?” Jack chuckles when I nod firmly, and I look around my classroom in triumph. Everything worked out! I've got my teaching job, and Jack hasn't broken his word to earn my trust. The last six months have felt like a dream after a nightmare, and I hope it continues. I hope I never wake up.
Jack wraps his arm around my back, ducking to tenderly nuzzle my cheek. I smile, remembering the last month in my mind's eye. Things were so much easier now that he was telling the truth. He'd taken my request to simply tell me if he couldn't talk about something seriously. And he seems to be more open with me too.
Holding the tickets to Hawaii up to look at them, my mouth dries, and Jack's gaze settles on my face as I fight a grimace. “Thank you for this. I think the fact that I’m here three weeks early is a sign of how nervous I am. Maybe, I do need to get away. After all, my life has revolved around this goal for years. It shouldn’t be so bad to take a break and go outside.”
“That’s the point, yeah. The other stuff is just extra. I want you to relax after,” Jack replies, his palm caressing my upper abdomen. My thin shirt hides my scar, but not the raised feel of it. The flesh tingles under his calloused palm, and I nod mutely. “You’re still tender?”
“It doesn’t feel like anything anymore, no. It’s kinda numb,” My response earns me a small frown. Jack rolls up my shirt as he shuffles to kneel in front of me, and a wave of self-consciousness worms up my sternum. The long, jagged scar is raised and dark; no amount of skin creams or cosmetic procedures will smooth and lighten it. I look over at the door, suddenly remembering where we are, and stop Jack from pulling up my shirt all the way. “Stop. You can lament on my hack job somewhere else.”
“I think it’s sexy as hell,” Jack’s eyes flicker to mine. Gripping my forearms, he sighs hotly, his breath traveling down under my collar. “You lived, Heather.”
“At no point did it occur to you too,” my throat tightens, and I shake my head. “Never mind. It’s not worth an argument. Especially not here.”
"It did, but I wasn't going to snipe him from afar," Jack's gruff voice scrapes my ears; any comfort I can take from the fact that he's being honest now is hollow. I grunt lowly, crossing my arms over my chest, before he cups my cheek and forces me to look at him. His eyes blaze with almost blinding consternation. "The goal was to capture him. But, Heather... I never considered the possibility that he would just shoot you like that. I misjudged him. I figured if he did shoot you, it'd be somewhere superficial because, despite everything, he didn't want to kill you. He was simply entrenched in his own desperation."
“Is that why this Cian’s coming? After so long?” I ask, and Jack’s expression becomes stony.
