A Warrior Wedding (The Protectors #7)

“I never knew how to help you, Jillian,” her mother replied.

“By being my mother.” Hot blinding anger made her heart beat faster, but she did her best to keep the attitude out of her tone. “That’s all I wanted. I felt like a burden because I had a reading disability.”

“I didn’t know how to help you, so I ignored you and brushed the problem aside.” Her eyes never flickered from Jill’s. “I failed you in every way a mother could fail her child.”

Feeling weak, Jill walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. “And then I came home a monster.”

Her mother wiped the tear that leaked from her eye, but didn’t answer. “I’m sorry.” Those two words her mother spoke rang true.

Looking away from her mother, Jill’s eyes roamed her room, seeing everything that once made her who she was. All her drawings were still taped to the light blue walls of her room. A weird sense of wanting to laugh filled her soul. She was finally getting what she wanted from her mother, yet she was dying. Lowering her head, Jill looked at the floor she had laid upon doing drawing after drawing. Tears spilled from her eyes, some clear, others red. Her chest hurt so badly, she thought that this may be it—she was going to die right there in the room she spent so many hours hoping, dreaming...wanting her mother’s approval, her love. A laugh mixed with a sob escaped her throat.

“You can have your wedding here with your friends, Jillian.” Her mother’s voice broke through her meltdown.

Hearing her mother’s footsteps moving past her, Jill raised her head, stood and pulled her mother into a hug. She couldn’t say anything except cry. And she cried even harder when her mom held her just as tightly, her own body shaking in sobs.

“I know I can never ask you to forgive me, Jillian. I will never be able to forgive myself,” her mother said against her shoulder. “Just know I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve already forgiven you. All I’ve ever wanted was your love, your acceptance.” Jill sobbed right back. Jill pulled back to look at her mom, a sob escaping her throat and ending in a laugh. “We’re a mess.” Her mom did the same, laughing on her own sob.

“Jilly, Shade’s here.” Seth’s small voice broke through their laughing and crying.

“You mean Slade?” Jill corrected him with a grin. Letting go of her mom, she wiped her face.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Seth frowned. “Why are you crying, Momma?”

“Because I’m happy.” Jill’s mom also wiped her face.

Jill hoped her face was clean of blood before turning around. She didn’t want to scare Seth. Her mom actually reached up and wiped her cheek. She then nodded, which made Jill well up again. Fighting back the tears, she turned. Seth stood in the doorway, his little hand in Slade’s big one.

Slade didn’t say a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. All Jill could manage was a nod because if she opened her mouth, she was going to lose it again.

Jill’s mom walked around Jill and stood in front of Slade. “I want to apologize for the way I treated you.”

“It doesn’t matter how you treat me, ma’am.” Slade looked down at the woman. “Jill’s my concern and how she’s treated.”

“Fair enough, but I still apologize.” She grabbed Seth’s hand. “And please, call me Ruth.”

Slade stepped to the side so she and Seth could pass. He then headed directly for Jill.

“Why are you here?” she asked and then grinned at his cocked eyebrow. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Shade,” she teased with the name Seth gave him.

“I’m here because Jax texted me worried about you.” Slade frowned. He reached up, touching her cheek then forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Jill started to lie, but knew he would know so she sighed. “I’m okay, just really shaky and weak. You know, the usual.” She tried to tease, but fell way short of being funny. “Do you think you can try the transfusion on...?”

“No!” There was absolutely no give in his voice. With that single answer, the subject was closed. “I would change you first.”

“Not if it gets you put in jail, or makes you lose your VC status and medical license you won’t,” Jill replied with a no give tone to her own voice, but Slade didn’t seem impressed. Instead, he glared before looking around her room.

“So, this is Jillian Nichols’ room.” Slade walked over to the wall looking at her drawings. “You are very talented.”

“Thanks.” Jill smiled with pride. “This is probably one of my favorites, other than the one I drew of you.” She pointed to one of Sable and Bebe.

“Are you sorry?” Slade asked without looking at her; he continued to look at the pictures.

“About what?” Jill frowned, hearing the emotion he was trying to hide in his voice. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “Sorry about what?”