“Jane, wait. I’m so—”
“No you’re not. You’re not sorry. Don’t pretend to know my story, and I won’t pretend to know yours. It wasn’t my place. I apologize.”
The blanket slid off her body into a pool on the floor. She left him alone, staring at the blinds.
They stared back at him.
And he wondered if the blinds were just that: a symbol of the day he’d decided to let his grandfather control his life—solely based on the fear of a twelve-year-old boy who’d felt he had no other choice but to hold on to the man who promised him everything would be okay.
The blinds still stared.
And he stared right back, challenging them—wondering if he pulled them open, what exactly would happen?
Would the sky fall?
Would Grandfather die?
Or would his life be exactly the same?
He stood and walked over to the blinds, lifting a shaky hand to the string that held them closed, and then jerked his hand away.
Some memories were best left buried.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jane woke up with a knot in her neck and a dizzying feeling of anticipation. Talking with Brock hadn’t been a wise idea, mainly because she was reminded that underneath all that fear—the very fear she saw in his eyes when he spoke of the past—was a decent guy.
He was in there next to all the yelling and insults.
Well, she’d always loved a good project; finding a new home for a rescue dog, walking an old lady across the road, bringing food to the homeless. Helping a man she was insanely attracted to get over the death of his parents…
She clenched her fists.
No. She refused to help him.
He didn’t deserve it! And what would come of it if she did? She’d help him see past his demons, he’d become the man he was supposed to be, and they’d ride off into the sunset together?
More like, he’d thank her, give her a hug—that was, if it actually worked and he didn’t strangle her first—and he’d ride off into the sunset with Barbie’s twin. They’d have beautiful children, who in turn would have beautiful children, and people like her would watch from the sidelines.
She swallowed the giant lump forming in her throat.
Something needed to change in her life—and it started now.
With trembling hands she turned on her phone again and gasped as texts flooded her inbox.
All of them from her sisters.
It seemed like they’d gone from angry to understanding in an instant.
Esmeralda: Jane I’m so sorry, just come home. We miss you!
Essence: HUGS!
Esmeralda: Best sister ever!
Jane groaned into her hands and continued reading the messages. After five or six kind messages they started turning threatening and manipulative again.
Esmeralda: You can’t just leave like this. You’re our family. What would dad have said? It’s so selfish!
Guilt spread through her body. In a way, it was selfish of her to leave them, but she was going crazy! They were choking the life out of her and they didn’t even seem to care how they were hurting her.
She was just ready to text back when another message popped up.
It was a picture of Essence.
And she was wearing Jane’s pearls.
The ones that had broken all over the nightclub floor. But how? She’d just assumed they were done for. It had been dark in the club and bodies had been everywhere.
Essence: This just got delivered, but since you’re gone…
Jane texted furiously.
Jane: My pearls! Who sent them? How?
Essence: Oh, so NOW you respond? When there’s something you want?
Tears blurred her eyes as she typed back.
Jane: No! I had my phone off. Please! I’ll be home in a few weeks! Just keep them safe.
Essence: No promises.
Emotion clogged Jane’s throat as she touched the screen to her phone. It wasn’t the fact that they were expensive—it was the fact that the pearls had been her mother’s.
Given to her.
The next text was a picture of Esmeralda wearing Jane’s shoes, the ones Brock had gotten for her.
Esmeralda: They look better on me.
She knew it. She’d just known that Esmeralda had taken the shoes that day, but she’d been too weak to fight her on it; she didn’t want to start a fight she knew she couldn’t win or finish.
But now. She turned the phone back off and let the reality of her situation with her sisters hit her full force.
Brock hadn’t realized it, but he was right, and she had been talking about herself as much as she was talking about him. She needed to face her demons, her ghosts, and deal with them once and for all.
It was amazing how easy it was to see how her sisters manipulated her, now that she was away from them. It was as if a fog had cleared, and she could see that the only reason they kept her around…
Was for them.
Her father wouldn’t want her to live that way.
It was a revelation she’d never had before, and it was the first time in the last five years that even though her body was sore, her heart felt light.