Fever (Breathless #2)(55)

That made him insane. For the space of a few hours she’d been beyond his control. Beyond his ability to provide for her, to protect her. He still couldn’t dwell on those hours without losing his tenuous grip on his sanity.

Maybe Ash was right. Maybe he was utterly obsessed. But obsession seemed such a mild term for his thoughts and feelings where Bethany was concerned.

Where did it come from? Was this how Gabe felt about Mia? Why he’d lost any and all control when it came to her and why he’d been determined that no one would come between them?

Jace didn’t have an explanation. Some things just were and such was this obsession with Bethany. He wasn’t going to fight it. Hell, he couldn’t. He was utterly powerless when it came to her, and he lost all reason. All ability to make rational decisions.

Jesus, if this is what love and emotion did to a man, he wasn’t at all sure he wanted it. But he wanted Bethany. With every breath. With every conscious thought. He wanted her and he wasn’t letting her go without one hell of a fight.

“Are you all right?” he asked when he had a better handle on himself.

He stared at her, checking for any sign that she was hurt or shaken. But all he saw was uncertainty as she carefully watched him with large, wounded eyes. Christ. She’d thought he was kicking her out when he was the one who thought she’d walked out on him.

“I’m fine,” she said in a low voice. “Jace, I’m sorry. I know what I did was stupid.”

“Stupid? Yeah. That about covers it. Jesus, Bethany. Do you have any idea what could have happened? I know you’ve lived on those streets and it’s only by the grace of God you haven’t already become a statistic in a city full of sad statistics. Why did you do it? Where the f**k did you go? What did you think you were doing?”

She sank onto the couch as if her legs would no longer hold her up. Her hands trembled and she pulled off her coat, laying it in a neat arrangement beside her. He couldn’t sit yet. He hadn’t calmed enough. So he paced back and forth in front of her, waiting.

“I had to find Jack,” she said quietly.

“Jack.”

The one word was explosive in the living room. Fucking Jack. She’d risked her life because she had to find Jack. A man who’d thrown her to the wolves. Who hadn’t given a shit about her when he’d borrowed money he hadn’t a hope of repaying and then left her with the fallout.

“You had to find Jack,” he repeated.

“I was worried,” she said, near pleading. “He’s all I have, Jace. And with those men . . .”

Jace huffed in a huge breath. “Exactly, Bethany. Those men are exactly why you shouldn’t have gone off on your own. Did it ever occur to you to talk to me about it? To talk to Kaden and Trevor, who are hired to protect you? Do you think I hired them for the hell of it? Do you think I make it a practice to hire a professional security firm to follow people I don’t care about around?”

She dropped her gaze and he continued on, needing to get this out, needing to rid himself of his anger and the images of her lying on a sidewalk bleeding.

“And he’s not all you have. You have me.”

Her gaze jerked back up, her eyes stricken. “I didn’t mean it that way, Jace. Please believe me. I know I sound so ungrateful. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important. I just meant he’s the only family I have. For so long, it’s been just me and him.”

“He’s not your brother,” Jace said tightly, addressing the other issue that had bothered him ever since Ash had given him that piece of information.

Fuck, Ash’s warning played over and over in his head. Was she playing him? Was he the victim of some scheme hatched by two down-on-their-luck lovers to take him for a ride? Staring at her, he didn’t see it. But then, maybe she was one hell of a good actress. There was no guilt in her expression as he revealed that he knew Jack Kingston wasn’t her brother. Or maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to see.

There was only sadness.

“Am I being played, Bethany?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Is this a scheme you and Jack have going? Did you give him the money I left for you?”

All the blood drained from her face. It was so stark, the look of utter horror, the absolute revulsion that spread across her features. In that moment he knew he’d been terribly wrong to even suggest such a thing, even if he’d never really bought it to begin with. It had come out, a product of his fear and anger and frustration. He’d felt the need to bite at her, to make her feel, just for a moment, what he was feeling. He regretted it with everything he had as he watched her falter, her pale face looking like he’d just pulled the rug right out from underneath her.

She rose unsteadily, her knees buckling. She almost went down and he lunged for her but she yanked back, the color completely leached from her face. Her expression scared him. More than her disappearance. More than the idea of her playing him. Her eyes were haunted and betrayed, so wounded he wondered if she’d ever recover.

Haltingly, she walked toward the kitchen, her gait that of a much older woman. Her shoulders were hunched in a defeated posture and her chin was lowered. Her arms wrapped protectively around herself as if defending herself from a gut punch.

He watched with a growing sense of dread as she riffled through one of the kitchen drawers. A moment later, she pulled out a familiar envelope. The bank envelope he’d gotten when he made the withdrawal. Inside was several thousand dollars in cash, mostly in twenties. It had been stuffed full, and it was still stuffed full.