First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Forty-One

Jackson

D eclan Randolph is hiding something. I’ve been following him all day, watching where he’s going and who he’s with. He’s been looking over his shoulder the entire time because he already suspects someone might be watching him.

Except, he hasn’t spotted me yet and I don’t think I’m the one he’s worried about. Although I should be. I’m going to make sure this bastard never enters Natalie and Dec’s life again.

When Declan emerges from a gas station, I follow him back to his apartment. It’s the one that Natalie’s mom lived in when she died, where Dec lived. When he gets out of his car, I pull up right behind him and jump out.

“Declan.”

“What do you want?” The disgust is clear on his face but I don’t give a shit.

“I’m giving you a warning. Don’t come near Dec again. Don’t go to his school,” I state cooly even though I want to yank him around by his shirt collar.

“He’s my son. I don’t care what the fucking judge will decide.” He spits on the ground only a few inches from my boot.

“You didn’t treat him like your son before, don’t act like you’re a father now. Consider this your notice that an Order of Protection has been filed. If I see you near him or Natalie, I’ll throw your ass in jail.”

“You’re letting that piece of ass drag you around by the balls? You’re dumber than I thought. That girl is worthless.” He steps through a chain link gate to separate us as I step toward him, barely containing myself enough to stop from throwing him to the ground.

“It’ll only be a matter of time before she ends up like her mother. I’ll get my boy back,” he states boldly.

“What the hell did you just say?” I shout at him as he turns toward his apartment.

“Have a good day, Sheriff.” He smirks as he walks away from me because he can. I have no legal standing to arrest him, not for a vague statement like that.

I hate when I can’t protect people because of the black-and-white nature of the legal code. This is one of those moments I resent the laws I’ve sworn to enforce.

* * *

“Why don’t you drink?” Natalie asks after dinner, interrupting my thoughts about work. I’ve been a little more distracted since the incident with Declan. With all of the other unanswered questions about the crimes in Rollins, the pressure is building.

“My recipe called for red wine and I noticed that you don’t keep any alcohol in the house,” she adds when I don’t respond.

“I used to but decided that it wasn’t worth it after a while,” I tell her honestly after I have a second to filter my thoughts. She looks at me thoughtfully so I continue.

“I drank quite a bit in my early twenties. A couple of beers after work or socially. It helped me wind down and get to sleep when I knew I had to be up for class in five hours. Then it got to the point where I couldn’t remember how many I was drinking a night.

“When I almost missed my alarm the morning of my first day at the Academy, I realized how badly I was messing with my life. My mom already had a brain-eating disease. I didn’t need anything else to contribute to my downfall.”

“So you gave it up completely?” She asks, surprised.

“Yeah. I figured that if I only have so many good years, I should take advantage of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom was in her forties when she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. If I get it, I might only have less than a decade.”

That realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I might only have less than a decade. The thought echoes in my brain.

It used to be one of the reasons that I never cared to date or have a family. I never wanted anyone to have to take care of me.

“Jackson?” Her voice suddenly sounds far away because my heartbeat is pounding in my ears. How selfish can I be?

I’ve inadvertently pushed that aside and jumped head first into this life with Natalie and Dec. I’ve been begging her to take a chance on me and I might end up losing my mind.

The stress of taking care of my mom at such a young age drained my life. I love her to death but having that weight on my shoulders was devastating. I can’t do that to them.

“You don’t know that you’ll get it.” She must see me spiraling but I barely hear her words from across the kitchen.

“It’s probably a good thing that you’ve kept me at arm’s length all this time,” I laugh sadly. “You wouldn’t want to be stuck with me once my mind rots.” I stand up but I can’t quite get my bearings.

My head is begging me to think this through logically but my body is trying to flee.

“Jackson-” She starts to say something else but I shake my head at her.

“I’m sorry, I need to…” I can’t finish my sentence, I can’t finish a thought. All I do is turn and walk out of the house and away from her. I hear her yelling after me but I can’t even process what she’s saying.

What the hell was I thinking?

She can’t be with a man like me. Potentially have a baby with a man who could pass on genes for an incurable disease. I’ve seen the statistics, I know the chances. They’re not zero.

I reverse out of the driveway, screeching the tires into drive once I hit the road, escaping before I think better of it because I’ve offered this woman a life I don’t know that I can give her.

How can I keep her and Dec safe if I don’t even know who I am one day?

* * *

By the time I walk in the front door the next day, I’m dead on my feet and it’s been well over twenty-four hours since I’ve slept.

I barely manage to drag myself to my room, hitting the bed with a thump. I’m staring up at the ceiling when I hear my door click shut.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

It’s not the first time she’s ever asked me that question, but this time I can’t seem to form a response. There is so much wrong with me. The biggest is that I’m in no way deserving of having a family.

“Jackson,” she huffs when I don’t respond.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been awake all night.” I speak directly to the ceiling.

“Doing what?” She snaps.

“Working.”

“You were at work all night? Right. I’m sure.” She storms out of my room and it takes more than a second to recognize that accusation. She thinks I went somewhere else, to someone else.

I don’t have the energy to defend myself but I don’t deserve her forgiveness either. She’s going to hate me regardless when she realizes that I can’t be the man I’d promised for her.

I roll over and face plant into the mattress. Maybe I’ll suffocate in my sleep and it will solve all my problems for me.

A few hours later, I begrudgingly get up and shave the two days of stubble before exiting my room. I need more sleep but I owe an explanation to the woman I got so caught up in pursuing that I forgot I don’t deserve her at all.

I can’t give her what she needs.

Dec and Natalie are outside in the driveway, and I watch while she watches him ride his bike. He’s brave already, hardly needing to think about what he’s doing as he rides around.

Natalie looks on like a worried mother and it makes me smile before the corners of my mouth droop. If I had died in my sleep then at least I could take care of them properly.

She must sense me because she turns suddenly, narrowing in on me in the doorway. Other than throwing daggers at me, she turns back to Dec quickly and ignores me. I deserve that.

I make my way toward her anyway as if gravity itself could keep me away.

“I was at work last night. I was in the office, by myself, doing paperwork. I promise.” Her shoulders stay rigid, her head refusing to look at me. “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did but I’m more sorry that I led you on. I understand that you can’t have a future with me. Dec deserves better than that, you do too.”

“What are you talking about?” She finally responds, whipping around to look at me. She’s so pretty and it hurts because I don’t deserve her.

“I can’t expect you to be with me. I would never want you to take care of me if I got sick. It’s a burden and Dec needs all of your focus.”

“Jackson, you act like you’re already sick. You don’t have Alzheimer’s and you probably never will. Why are you convincing yourself that your life is over?”

“It’s easier than getting my hopes up I guess. I don’t deserve you guys, and never will.” I clear my throat, willing away the pain. “I’m going to visit my mom. I’ll be back in a few hours.” This time when I leave she doesn’t shout after me.

My poor, sweet mother who has had her life taken over by the disease that I’m terrified of didn’t recognize me when I walked into her room. She rarely does. This time I was greeted with the preferable confusion rather than fear.

She’s rocking in her chair with a baby doll, immediately resuming her appraisal of the flowers outside her window after I enter.

Mary walks in behind me, greeting me kindly. She’s her regular nurse and has taken great care of my mom while she’s been here.

“How is she today?”

“Oh, she’s doing great. It’s been a calm week.”

“Where did the doll come from?” The soft pink blanket-wrapped doll is nestled tightly to her chest.

“I assumed you brought it.” Mary shrugs. “It’s a helpful tool for Alzheimer’s patients though, she loves it.”

She exits the room briefly and returns holding a plastic bag filled with plastic Tupperware. “If you don’t mind taking these home with you.” She hands me the bag.

“What is this?”

“It’s the empty dishes Natalie brought. Well, they were full when she brought them.” She laughs to herself. “Your momma is going to gain weight in no time eating that good.”

“Natalie’s been visiting?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. She said you guys were living together and I just assumed… I apologize,” she busies herself fixing my mom’s already perfect bedding.

“I didn’t know.”

Natalie has been visiting my mom. Why didn’t she tell me?

“She comes about once a week and usually brings a couple of meals with her. She might’ve been the one to bring the doll.” Mary looks at me thoughtfully, seeing something on my face I’m not aware of.