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“I thought you knew,” he croaked out.
Jack cocked a brow at him.
“I-I’m so sorry.”
God, he felt like shit. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t actually checked that Jack knew. Fuck. He must be regretting it.
Jack frowned at him as he pushed away from the door and stepped closer.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because…”
Breathing was starting to get hard. Fuck. The panic was rising and his hands were shaking. His whole fucking world was shaking.
“You should’ve known. Before we,” Zero waved a hand between them. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack walked closer and he steeled himself, ready for Jack to take a swing at him. He understood. He deserved it.
Jack stopped right in front of him, those gold-flecked eyes of his running over Zero’s face.
He flinched when Jack lifted a hand, which was fucking stupid. He knew better than to show anyone he was afraid. It wasn’t even getting hit, the pain, that frightened him. It was Jack’s inevitable rejection.
He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard and loud as he felt the panic start to take hold.
Fingers grabbed his hair, jerking his head back and then Jack’s lips were on his, kissing him hard. Jack’s tongue was in his mouth, and it felt so fucking good.
He didn’t want to, but he still pushed Jack back. He stared at him with confusion.
“I murdered him in cold blood,” he whispered, his voice shaky.
Jack pulled him closer, brushing his lips against the corner of his mouth.
“I know what you did,” Jack whispered against his lips. “I would’ve done the same.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Jack leaned back, meeting Zero’s gaze.
“Oh, I would. In fact, the bastard’s lucky he’s already dead or I would’ve done much worse to him.”
Jack’s voice was dark. Dangerous. He had no doubt he meant his words.
“Why?” he gasped out.
The way Jack looked at him had him trembling and not from fear. No, Jack was looking at him with something he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. At least not from him.
“Because he hurt you,” Jack growled.
He sucked in a breath, blinking at Jack.
“How—”
“Pieces of shit like him don’t stop at one,” Jack said, his eyes flashing with rage. “And you spent so many years in prison because of him. Feeling guilty for what you did.”
“No,” he whispered, the word almost caught in his throat. “I don’t feel guilty about killing him.”
Jack’s eyes widened ever so slightly, then softened. The hand Jack had in his hair slid down to the back of his neck, thumb caressing the underside of his jaw.
