Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(65)

“Duh, because you’re holding me down.”

“And I will keep doing it until you stop wanting to run.”

She lifted her eyes to him. “You won’t be always here, remember? This is temporary. It comes with a fast-approaching expiration date.”

He held her gaze and didn’t correct her. For some reason that made her even sadder.

“So you better get over this running-away shit fast. Besides, it doesn’t help a f*ck. Tried that.”

“You also killed half your family?”

He gave her a firm shake. “No, and neither did you, pet. The drunk driver did. You need to forgive yourself.”

Too bad she didn’t know how to do that.

“So what did you have to run away from?” she asked changing the subject.

Jack gave her an are-you-serious look, and for a second she felt ashamed of her mocking tone. As if the marks all over his body weren’t explanatory enough. “Lots of shit went down while in the military, and then later on. On the sleepless nights, we would meet at a diner.”

“To talk feelings?”

He snorted. “Fuck no. Sometimes we didn’t even talk at all. We sat there, drinking coffee, until dawn. But it helped. You learn to forgive yourself and move forward. You face your fears head on, and the pain. You don’t bury them. Cry as much as you have to and yell and get mad at the injustice of it all. Get rid of that anger and despair so that the good memories can take center stage again.”

She looked at him and nodded. She would try.

“I’m sure neither your dad nor your brother would have changed places with you.”

True. She would give anything, her life included, to have them back, but didn’t doubt for a second they wouldn’t let her.

Maybe it was the crackling of the fire, or the rhythmic movement of Jack’s chest, or the fact that for the first time in two years she was talking about Jonah and her dad, but she found herself relaxing, her mind not racing every time there was silence.

“So now you do all the stuff Jonah used to do.”

“Yes.”

“The flash mob?” he asked.

“Technically, that was Emma’s thing. She dragged Jonah into it, but he sure as hell enjoyed it.”

“And the twerking?” His tone was laced with amusement.

She laughed softly, her face on his chest. “Oh, that’s all me, baby.”

They lay there for a long while, her sprawled over him, listening to his heart, him petting her hair. Both in silence.

“Jack?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you mean you read the police report?”

“Of course I did. That’s the sensible thing to do when new people come into your life. Have them investigated.”

“You had me investigated?”

He assented. “Thoroughly.”

“And?”

“It was as I suspected. All trouble.”

“I’m glad,” she mumbled, little by little falling asleep.

When she woke up, dawn lit the sky. She lifted her head and found Jack looking at her. After her hissy fit and her crying jag he hadn’t let go of her, holding her tight. And funny enough, she didn’t feel trapped. She felt great. Lighter than she had in years, even before the accident that truncated everyone’s lives.

“I fell asleep.”

A smile flashed on his face, softening his otherwise harsh lines. “You did.”

Man, her Borg was so handsome with that do-not-f*ck-with-me vibe. He was the hardest man she’d ever met, and not only in the physical sense. Jack was the most uncompromising, the most infuriating, and yet there was something about him that soothed her. In spite of all his lord-of-the-manor comments and behavior, he was steady as a rock.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “This Diablos gathering you want to attend, that’s something you used to do with Jonah, right?”

She nodded. “It was our thing, although the last year I bailed on him. Too busy keeping bad company.”

He studied her for a long moment and then asked, “How important is it to you?”


ELLE LOOKED AT him, her beautiful eyes shimmering. “Very important, Jack.”

“I understand you wanting to honor your brother, but getting killed is not the way, pet. If you need to honor his memory, I’m down with it, but do it by living to the fullest, enjoying every second, not spacing out and going through the motions on automatic. Spacing out delays the pain, but it also delays life and all its joys. Not to mention Maldonado is in Boston.”

“Yes, but at a fund-raiser,” she insisted. “He doesn’t know about me. All of us wear glasses and scarfs, and with the costumes, it’s virtually impossible to distinguish who’s who. Please—”

He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her. “I’ll make you a deal, pet.”

“Name it. No sex, though. I don’t exchange sex for favors.”

“Me neither. I’ll get the sex from you anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at him but he pushed on. “I’ll let you attend the Diablos parade. Afterward, you’ll stay where I put you, quietly and without complaint, while I go take care of this Maldonado situation.”

“Where exactly do you intend to put me?”