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I chuckle quietly. “Okay.”
“How were things after I left earlier?”
“They were fine. I walked around a little bit, then Rage found me, and he talked to me some. He helped me realize I am not alone, and everyone has gone through stuff. He told me about what happened to him when he was younger.”
Jackson’s jaw goes slack, but he quickly covers his surprise. Clearing his throat, he asks, “He told you?”
“Yeah… I mean, not everything. I know that. But he told me a lot.” I furrow my brows at the look of shock on Jackson’s face.
“Wow. He never talks about the girl he liked and how things were with his dad back then. Shit was fucked up. I’m glad he told you. He probably needed that, and so did you,” he says with a shake of his head, like he can’t quite believe what I said.
I smile. “Yeah, it was a wonderful talk. Afterwards, we came inside, and I sat down to eat something. I visited with Rage, Sugar, and Blade some. Blade is very unique.” I chuckle. “After they left, I was just sitting around waiting for you to come back when Rachel, the club s—girl came over to me. She introduced herself and told me it’s her job to sleep with all the guys here.”
Jackson scoffs. “She is called a club slut, as you were going to say. It isn’t her job, really. She came here willingly, wants to be around, lives here. We feed them, help with expenses, and some of them work for us, but they are around to hook up with the guys. It is never forced. It is completely by choice. But she doesn’t sleep with everyone. None of us guys are saints, Pres. We have all had our fair share of girls. They will still be around, and you’ll probably see things you don’t want to see. If it’s a night when the younger boys are out and we have a party, things tend to get a little wild.”
“I know. Carly explained it all to me. She came in right when Rachel asked about me. I said I was here with you, and she assumed I was a new club— girl. Then she went on to tell me she has slept with you and you’re a good lay. Carly told her to shut up and explained who I was. I don’t even know how she knew who I was. Then Rachel seemed to get mad when Carly used the term ol’ lady and she turned to me and said you guys had just slept together a few days ago. Then you came in.”
“Presley… why didn’t you question me? You didn’t say anything about it. I could’ve—”
I shake my head. “I didn’t need you to. That’s why I said I loved you. Because I was getting anxious and uncomfortable with Rachel, but never once did it cross my mind that you might have slept with her. One, the day she said you slept together you were with me. And two, I trust you. I know I am crazy to, but I do. I immediately started to calm down when we came in here, and I needed a minute to pull my thoughts together. Like I needed to put the pieces together that I felt love. When it hit that I knew I loved you, there was no keeping it in after that.”
Before I can even register what is happening, Jackson flips me so I am on my back and he is hovering over me. “God, woman, I fucking love you. You drive me insane in so many ways. But you’re trapped now. I won’t ever let you go.”
I grab his face and pull him so we are nose to nose. “Good. Don’t ever let me go.”
I don’t know who dives in first, but next thing I know we are kissing, and Jackson has got himself between my legs, his already hard cock rubbing against my soaking core.
The next morning, I wake up way more sweaty than I normally would be when I wake up. When I try to move, I find that I can’t. Cracking my eyes open, I see the room is still mostly dark. A tiny bit of sunshine shines through the crack in the curtains, but that’s it.
Jackson is wrapped around me, his head on my breasts, with his arms wrapped draped over me, and one of his legs tossed over mine. Literally holding me down. I try not to laugh as I gently unwrap him and he groans in his sleep. All those times he slept at my apartment, he always stayed on his side, although I would wake up half on him, which was usually embarrassing, and Jackson would just give me a cocky smirk.
Once I get him moved enough to slide out of the bed, I grab a pillow and shove it in his arms, which he automatically wraps his arms around. I grab my phone off the nightstand and snap a picture of his peacefully sleeping form.
I head across the room to the bathroom and quietly shut the door before flicking on the light to take a shower. We didn’t end up going to sleep until almost two in the morning because we kept going for round two, then three, and four. I am blissfully sore and content.
I start the shower and brush my teeth, looking myself over in the mirror. I can’t believe how accepting Jackson is of my body. It’s battered and scarred now. Far from beautiful or sexy. Tears well up in my eyes as I run my hand down my stomach. There are three two-inch scars randomly on my stomach from where Ben stabbed me, and the incision sight is still barely noticeable from where they had to take—take my sweetling out. Luckily, that one will heal, so I don’t have to see it forever, but the others will scar. Mostly the three on my stomach and the ones on my thighs. All the small slices everywhere else were superficial. Besides one on my left inner arm that goes from the inside of my elbow down towards my wrist. That one, the doctor said, will scar as well.
I hate that I have to stare at these for the rest of my life. That they will never go away. Ben left his mark on me, and now I won’t ever be able to look in the mirror without seeing him. Without seeing what he stole from me.
The door opens, and Jackson steps in, looking over my naked broken body. “Oh, angel.” His hands cup my wet cheeks. “Breathe with me, sweetheart. Look at me, nowhere else. Try to get your breathing in sync with mine. That is your only focus right now. Breathing with me.”
He takes measured deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. I follow as best I can, gasping for air every time I try to take a deeper breath. My trembling hands come up and grasp his wrists, rubbing my fingers over his skin trying to focus on the way his skin feels; it’s smooth. Blemish-free. There are soft hairs I can feel and on his right wrist is a tiny scar on the inside, directly over his pulse point. I can just barely feel the raised skin.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good.”
“I’m broken,” I whisper, locking eyes with Jackson, letting him see just how much Ben broke me.
“He didn’t break you. He couldn’t have. You wouldn’t be here if he had. He didn’t plan on you getting to live another day, but you did. Because you fought. At first, I know you were fighting for that baby girl, but afterwards, now, you are fighting to live for her, live to show Ben that he didn’t win. He’ll never win because you are strong.” He kisses my forehead. “So fucking strong and beautifully brave.”
I can’t respond to him as my lips quiver, and I squeeze my eyes shut.Strong.
You ruined everything.
You’re beautifully brave.
This is all you’re—No! This is allyourfucking fault. You took her from me. You took a piece of me. This isnotmy fault.
I do my best to block out Ben’s words that are constantly running through my brain and only focus on Jackson.
