Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Forty-Nine

FORTY-NINE

JACKSON

I stare at the woman sitting alone on the end of the pier. Her pastel pink hair is the same color as the sunset that is trying to peek through the cloudy sky. The bay is still busy, the town going about their end of day activities, but no one bothers her—not even the seabirds that squawk at every passerby.

The salty breeze brushes around me, and I reach back with shaky hands to tie my hair in a half knot.

“Come on, man,” I whisper to myself.

Before I end up standing here all evening, I force my legs to move forward. The worn planks beneath my feet creak slightly, and I know that the closer I get to her, the more likely she is to sense my presence.

My heart beats out of my chest, butterflies swarming my stomach and rising up to escape. The noise from the town gets quieter the farther out I go, replaced by the soft waves of the sea and occasional bird call. It makes my steps sound louder and louder until I’m a few feet away and watch the woman’s shoulders stiffen. Her freezing is brief—her hands sliding to the heart-shaped handbag at her side and opening it up to slip something out.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t taser me.”

She stops moving, head tilting slightly before it slowly twists around. Those honeyed doe eyes crash into mine.

“Jackson?”

“Hi, Sparkles.”

She lets out a gasp, dropping the taser as her hand comes to clasp her mouth. I pick up my pace, jogging over as she scrambles to stand up. I reach out to lift her against my body, spinning her around and holding her as close as I can.

“Oh my Gods,” she whispers.

I carefully lower her back down, and my heart begins to slowly stitch itself back together now that I have her again. Her hands come up to cup my jaw, and she looks at me like I might be a figment of her imagination—bewilderment and hope shining true.

“Is this for real? You actually came to Ireland?”

“I did.” I lean into her touch. “I missed you.”

“You’re not mad?” Her voice cracks on the question, and glistening tears start leaking down her cheeks.

“What? No, why would I be mad?”

“B-because I left,” she sobs. “I left, a-and I didn’t say anything. I abandoned y-you.” Her hands fall to my chest, and she fists my shirt. “You’re m-my rock, and I tossed you aside like a random pebble. I thought you’d never sp-speak to me again.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.” I hug her to my chest, feeling her tears dampen my shirt as she buries herself against me and continues to cry. “I could never be mad at you. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t hurt when I found out you’d left—it felt like someone took a pitchfork and stabbed me right in the chest. Every day I spent without you, without speaking to you, that pain got worse. There wasn’t a second that passed when I didn’t think of you and wish I was holding you in my arms, but I understood why you left. I understood even though it killed me not to run to you.

“Because more than anything, I missed you. I missed your brown sugar scent and how your nails trace along my skin whenever we’re cuddling. I missed the way you bite your lip when you’re focused while playing games and aren’t afraid to crack back at the guys when we play. I missed how you moan when you taste my food even though it has my dick hard at the worst of times. But most of all, I missed the way you laugh because it sounds like a symphony of angels and makes your eyes sparkle in this way that not even the most expensive diamond could compare to. And I wouldn’t have been able to hear that laugh or see that sparkle until we caught that son of a bitch.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I pull back and smooth her hair behind her ear as I gaze down at her. “The only mad I am is madly in love with you.”

I knew I was the moment I found out she was gone, but the second she turned around on the pier, there was no denying the fact that my heart only beats properly when I’m near her.

“Good,” she sniffles. “Because I’m in love with you, too. Even in my most desperate hours when it seemed like I was on the edge of a cliff and about to sink into the abyss, there was one thread that kept me from tumbling off, and it led back to you. As terrified as I was about facing the world and living in it, I was more scared that I had lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me. I’m not leaving your side again.”

I lean down and kiss her, and everything clicks. That final thread stitches into place, connecting the two halves of my heart together again. I taste the salt from the bay on her lips as I drink her in, savoring the feel of her against me. Deer sighs, her body softening beneath me as our tender kiss deepens.

It’s been so long that I can’t help myself. The more I kiss her, the more desperate I become. This woman before me has me wrapped around her finger, and she doesn’t even know it.

“I forgot to say that I missed these lips as well,” I murmur against her.

She smiles and pulls back, rolling her eyes. “Of course you did. How’d you find me here, anyway?”

“Well, I went to your house, and your mom told me.”

“You met my mam?”

“She said I was very handsome.”

“Of course she did.”

“Once I got down here, it wasn’t that hard to look for the girl with pink hair.”

I tug on a strand, and she bats my hand away before smoothing her hair back down. I catch sight of the goosebumps on her arm.

“It’s getting a little chilly; do you want to head back?”

“Sure.”

I thread our hands together, not ready to let her go. As our steps creak along the pier, I study the way she stares out at the town, cataloguing the people nearby.

“Jackson.”

“Yeah?”

Her brows crease, and she chews on her lower lip. “I—uh. How long are you staying for?”

“Depends. However long you’re here, I guess.”

“What?”

“I told you, I’m not leaving your side again. So, I’ll stay for as long as you’re here, and when you’re ready to leave, so will I.”

“What if”—she looks down at the ground—“what if I’m never ready?”

“Then I’ll probably need to start looking into how to obtain Irish citizenship.”

“What? Jack—”

“But I don’t think that will be the case.” I stop walking and turn to her. “I know you, Deer. You have a lot of resilience in that pint-sized body. You’ll be ready someday. And when that day comes, I’ll be ready to bring you home.”

“Thank you.” She looks up at me, some of that sparkle back in her eyes, and I know that I would wait until the end of the world for her.

She is the spark that makes my heart beat, and I would be lifeless without her.