First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jackson

S he had hidden away in her room all weekend long, and I couldn’t stand it. I could handle fending for myself in the kitchen, though I missed her cooking. It was the silence.

The boredom I experienced being in my home without her to talk to, to bug while she cooked, left me empty.

My brain was desperate for stimulation I couldn’t get from anywhere else. I tried to build a LEGO baseball with Dec but that turned into me watching him while simultaneously staring off into space.

I worked out three times and didn’t even break a sweat. All I could think about was the singular tear rolling down her cheek late Friday night. I didn’t realize that she possessed the emotions to cry. I thought she was invincible to sadness because of her capacity for anger.

I should have known that anything involving Dec would bring that out in her but I still caught myself worrying that it was all for show. That her apology wasn’t as genuine as it seemed and she was fooling me into thinking she was actually sorry.

All day Saturday without her had knocked all those thoughts out of my brain. I knew something was wrong when she was still holed up on Sunday. Monday morning I stayed home long enough to get Dec on the bus and then left for work assuming things would return to normal eventually.

But when I stopped home on my lunch break to see her still in bed, the dread in my gut amplified. She wasn’t the fire-filled woman I knew and it was startling to realize how deeply I cared.

Getting her out of bed was the only way I could ignore the ache in my chest that she undoubtedly caused.

Then I saw her ass. God, her ass. That perfect round skin peeking out the bottom of her t-shirt about killed me.

Luckily, she put on shorts before coming into the kitchen. Unluckily for me, she isn’t wearing a bra and the way the shirt hangs on her body is worse than a strip tease. I can see the outline of her petite chest and the points of her nipples.

Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun and the neck of the shirt is stretched enough that I can’t stop staring at the expanse of skin between her throat and shoulder that I have a vivid memory of biting.

The sound she made when I did still haunts me. I’m straining against my zipper behind the cover of the kitchen island just thinking about it.

Now I’m sitting here like a pervert, watching her cook, and imagining what it would be like to have her. Not for a moment, but to really have her.

Will she ever accept that I’m not out to get her? Can she?

I don’t know the answer to that and I’m too afraid to ask. If she could never truly trust me, I’d never be able to live that way. I’m fine with the arguing, her temper won’t scare me away, but I would need to know that she won’t run from me when she gets mad. Right now, I sense her need to run after every conversation, every look.

She’s one foot out the door and struggling to remember the plan from the start.

Is all of this going to be temporary?

Will I have to say goodbye to Dec one day and expect not to see him again? And, her?

Now that they’re in my life, I can’t imagine not having them in it in some way. I don’t want to go back to the time when I didn’t know either of them, when I didn’t get to watch her shuffle from foot to foot, humming along to the music playing while she cooks.

“Where are you from?” I wonder out loud, admiring the contrast of her dark lashes against her ivory skin and the fullness of her lips. And the way her eyeliner always accentuates the brazenness in her eyes like a siren luring me in.

“Uh. Here?”

“No, I mean your heritage.”

“Oh. I don’t know—a mix of things I guess. My mom had blonde hair, and blue eyes like Dec but I got the dark features from my dad. I never knew who he was. My mom would never tell me.”

“My mom refused to talk about my dad, too.” Our poor single mothers.

“Your mom is so small, he must’ve been a giant.” She laughs softly at her statement.

“One time during a bad episode my mom rambled about her time working at the Governor’s estate. She let it slip about sneaking around with him, but that’s all I got from her. She might have had me from an affair with the Governor.” I laugh but Natalie looks at me like I’ve sprouted three heads.

“You never looked into it?”

“No, I’m sure it was crazy talk. I never took it seriously. It’s easier to pretend like my father never existed at all.”

“Have you ever thought about doing a DNA kit?” She asks, her eyes wide with wonder.

“No. Have you?”

“Yeah, I’ve looked into it. I had a classmate in culinary school who was this beautiful Eastern European girl. She had dark hair and high cheekbones, dark cat eyes. People would get us mixed up until she stood next to me. She was like 5’10 and a model.” She laughs. “I always kind of hoped that I had something cool in me. Greek, Native American, something Latin, I don’t know.

“I was too afraid to send off my DNA though and find out that I have a bunch of half siblings out there. I can barely manage to take care of Dec. If anyone else was out there in a worse situation I don’t think I’d have the capacity to handle it,” she admits.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that too. There could be a whole family out there that I belong to and they don’t even know I exist. Or worse, they knew I existed and chose to ignore me.” I’ve never shared that fear with anyone.

“Exactly,” she whispers, plating the food.

“I’ll do mine if you do yours,” I challenge her.

“You’re kidding?”

“Why not?”

“My heart can’t handle it right now.” She shakes her head, dismissing the idea.

“Because of Dec?”

She bites her bottom lip, hesitating. “Yeah, I guess.”

I give her the benefit of the doubt and drop the conversation for now. If she changed her mind, I’d help her navigate whatever dirty secrets she’d discover with her ancestry. I’d probably ignore mine.

“I have a lawyer that a friend recommended. She’s said to be one of the best.”

“Really?”

“I even think she’d give us a friendly discount, too. I’ll set up a meeting.” She might not give a discount, but I’d also cover whatever she can’t afford. I can’t stand the thought of her going with someone less reputable because she can’t afford the best.

“Thank you, that’d be great. I’ve been holding my breath waiting for the phone call about Declan filing for custody. I haven’t heard a peep.”

“Maybe he’ll give up before he starts.”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” she huffs incredulously.

“Will you tell me what happened between you two?”

She drops the utensils she’s cleaning in the sink with a loud clatter before turning off the water. As she turns slowly to face me, indecision plays in her eyes.

I hope one of the choices is that she’ll trust me enough to tell me. The other one is probably to tell me to fuck off.

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s okay. I had just turned 17 and my mom had already been with Declan for a while when she told me she wanted us to live with him. I couldn’t believe it. I mean he was degrading toward me, creepy, and he was in his early twenties. It was weird for me and my mom didn’t understand. She refused to accept that she aged after she turned 30 or that she was supposed to be the responsible one.

“Then she told me she was pregnant and as you can probably imagine, I flipped out. Like screaming, cussing, and blaming her for being so stupid.” She pauses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut for several seconds.

“She accused me of being jealous.” She scoffs at the thought but continues. “It was absurd and it only made me furious… I told her to get an abortion.” She hesitates before continuing, staring at the ground for a moment. I don’t say a word, giving her space to continue.

“We were inches from each other’s faces, screaming, and then suddenly I was thrown back. I landed on the couch but Declan jumped on top of me and started-” She grasps her own throat as if to show me so she doesn’t have to say it. My fists are clenched together painfully on the counter.

“He squeezed until I was seeing stars. I couldn’t breathe but I was more concerned about what would happen after I passed out. His body was on top of mine and I couldn’t stand feeling him on me. I was afraid he would rape me if I lost consciousness. I knew my mom would probably let him.

“The police came because the neighbor heard the fight. They ignored the marks on my neck and listened to my mom when she said that I was a bad kid. She swore I was making it up and they believed her. I tried to push it further but they dismissed my complaint.

“I tried to leave, I wanted to but then my mom had Dec and I knew I couldn’t stay away. It was hell, though. He never physically hurt me again but he would still mock me or threaten to hurt me any chance he got. My mom never stood up for me, not even when she was sober.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that,” I utter, truthfully. Now I can see her as the younger version of herself. Lost and abandoned, not taken care of by the one person who should have always kept her safe.

She nods her head stiffly, squeezing her eyes shut again, and all I see is pain. Pain in her heart and in her memories. “The police never saved me. I needed help so badly when I was growing up and they were never there when I needed them… They’d pull my mom over when she was driving under the influence, ignoring me in the backseat and letting her go because she’d bat her eyelashes or flash her cleavage.” Her eyes burn into mine as she tells me her story, begging me to understand.

“We’d get evicted from someplace and they’d be there to escort us out, but ignore the little girl who was living with a drug addict.” She chokes back a sob, her eyes fluttering as if she’s reliving the memory.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m around the counter. I want to hug her but stop short because I don’t know that she’d want me to. She eyes me up and down, wondering what I’m doing, while I stand in limbo, not knowing if I should take a step forward or back.

Instead, I open my arms to indicate my intentions. She huffs a sad sound and melts into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She doesn’t let go and neither do I.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to get Declan behind bars. He’ll slip up, I’ll get him on something. I’m never going to let him get to you and Dec again,” I vow against the top of her head, punctuating it with a soft kiss.

She starts trembling and warmth floods my shirt. Maybe she is a crier and I had her pegged wrong from the beginning.

I’m still thinking about it when I get back to work in the afternoon. It takes more than a few tries to dive back into my case files.

I’m so close to catching a break in all of these crimes but all I want to think about is the woman living in my home. The way she fits in my arms when she lets me hold her, the sadness in her eyes that I want to ease.

The quicker that I can get Declan back behind bars, the better.