Fever (Breathless #2)(27)

“What are you shaking your head about?” Jace asked with a frown.

She looked up to see that he’d slid onto the couch beside her. He was close—within touching distance—and his heat and scent wrapped around her, warming her from the inside out.

Without thinking of the consequences, she was instinctively honest.

“I thought the fire made the room seem so homey, and then I realized how ridiculous the thought was since I know nothing about what makes a home.”

She heard the sadness in her voice before she realized it was there. Instantly she bit her lip, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Jace looked as though someone had punched him in the face. Then he bit out another swear. It was long and vicious and it sent a chill skittering up her spine.

She flinched when he reached out to touch her cheek and then he dropped his hand down to her waist, where the shirt covered the bruises. He found the spot that ached the most, however, and cupped his palm over it.

“Who did this to you, Bethany? What the f**k happened out there? And don’t lie to me. I want the whole bloody truth.”

She sucked in her breath, her eyes wide. She couldn’t tell him. How could she? He’d toss her out so fast her head would spin. But wasn’t that what she wanted? To be able to go? He couldn’t very well keep her. But even as she thought it, she had doubts. He seemed so . . . determined.

Jace was staring hard at her, silent and expectant. He wasn’t going to let her out of this.

“I can’t tell you that,” she said in a choked voice. “Please don’t ask me, Jace.”

His lips thinned even further and anger glittered in his eyes.

“Let’s get a few things straight, okay? I already know a lot about you. You’re homeless. You have a prior drug possession charge. You haven’t eaten in three days. You have no money. No place to sleep and someone out there put their f**king hands on you.”

All the blood drained out of her face. Her stomach knotted viciously and shame crawled over her shoulders and seized her by the throat. She gave him a stricken look, her humiliation so keen that she wanted to cry.

Jace moved his hand from her abdomen up to cup her cheek. He brushed his thumb tenderly over her cheekbone, his gaze softening as he took in her horror.

“Bethany,” he said in a quiet voice. “I knew all this before I came for you. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, unable to look at him any longer.

She dropped her gaze, closing her eyes. She felt so . . . unworthy, and she hated that feeling. Hated it with a passion. She’d spent a lifetime feeling unworthy, unlovable. Not good enough.

“Look at me,” he said firmly.

When she hesitated, he lifted her chin with his hand until her face was directed toward him. But her eyes were still shut.

“Open your eyes, baby.”

When she did, her vision was obscured by the sheen of tears that threatened.

“Don’t cry,” he said huskily. “What it says is that it doesn’t matter to me. I knew that about you, and I still went to the shelter. I’ve been looking for you for two goddamn weeks. I’ve scoured every f**king shelter I could find, hoping like hell to find you in one of them. And when I didn’t come up with you anywhere, it made me livid because I knew you were out there on the goddamn streets, cold, hungry and alone. Where I couldn’t protect you. Where I couldn’t make sure you had enough to eat. Where you didn’t even have a f**king coat to keep you warm.”

Despite his command for her not to cry, a tear slipped down her cheek and collided with his hand. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her face and then he kissed his way upward, removing the damp trail.

“Now, tell me who did this to you,” he said, anger vibrating in his voice. “I want to know everything. I’m going to take care of you, Bethany, but I have to know what I’m getting into here.”

She shook her head adamantly. “You can’t. Jace, I can’t move into your sister’s apartment. You can’t just sweep in and take over. Life doesn’t work that way. It never has.”

Impatience glittered in those dark eyes. “Life works however the hell you make it work. And the hell I can’t take over. Not to hurt your feelings, baby, but you haven’t done such a great job taking care of yourself. I’m going to change all that.”

“But why?” she burst out. “I don’t get it. I was a one-night stand for you and Ash. I can’t do that again. You were my relapse. I can’t go back down that road. I won’t. I’ve worked too hard to get to this place.”

She was shaking by the end of her outburst. And deeply shamed that she’d just blurted all that out. Wasn’t it bad enough that he knew about her arrest? Now he’d think she was a whore on top of being a drug addict.

“What place?” Jace demanded. “A place where you have no home? Nothing to eat?”

“To a place where I could gain back my self-respect,” she said quietly.

She edged backward on the couch, ready to bolt toward the door. Jace seemed to know exactly what she was contemplating. He moved fast, before she could even blink. He was right up next to her again, arm wrapped around her waist. Trapped. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Start talking. Everything, Bethany. Tell me what you mean by ‘relapse.’ And then you’re going to stop avoiding the question I’ve asked you four times already. I want to know who the f**k put their hands on you,” he said menacingly.