Hannah

The great debate begins.

If I tell him, he’ll flip out. But will his anger only be directed toward my ex, or will he look at me differently?

My aunt is wrong about my mother. She was never weak. She was smart. But she was right about me being just like my mom. I was strong enough to walk away.

Jet will see that. Beautiful and brave. He already does.

“You know my history with Hunter. You know it was more than cheatin—”

“He hit you. Say it, Hannah.”

“He hit me.” Saying it is easier these days. “If I tell you the details, please don’t get upset.”

“I can’t make that promise.”

“Nothing can harm us now.”

When I try to wrangle my thoughts, to make my words concise with enough details to be honest, he reaches over and taps the table twice. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

“I know you are, Jet, and thank you for being my rock when others just thought . . . I don’t know what they thought. I just know that no matter how disappointed I was with someone I loved, I could never turn my back on them when they needed me most.” I look at his hand, palm up and open for me, and set mine on top. “I struggle to trust people because it’s not only my heart that was hurt.” I hate remembering.

I hate that I didn’t blackout and take each hit without my knowledge. I would rather deal with the consequences of the abuse then relive it over and over in my head. My jaw starts aching, so I move it back and forth.

“Hannah?”

Looking up, I realize he’s still here while I was trapped in my head. “He beat me until I started to black out.”

“Unconscious?” He mutters swear words under his breath.

“He was out of his mind, high as a kite. I didn’t know him at all that night. I’d never met the devil until I caught him fucking someone else.”

“When you say beat, you mean he tried to kill you?” The words are hard for him to swallow, a look of disbelief on his face as he chokes them down. “I knew it was bad because of the night he came by, but fuck, Hannah, it’s worse than I imagined.”

I can’t sugarcoat what Hunter did to me any longer, not if I want to heal and move on. Move on. Move forward. That’s what I want with Jet, for me and for Alfie.

I’ve protected my ex for too long. I’ve hidden secrets behind a façade of better memories and excuses, pretending it could never happen to me while trying to remember who he used to be when he was just the cute boy across the street who adored me. I believed my own deceptions, candy coating the truth to make the lies more palatable.

Jet’s eyes never leave mine, and I shift under the intense stare. The deeper hues of his widened pupils engulf the sweet caramel of his eyes, taking me in and inhaling every word and breath I take, and move I make.

The hand that holds mine, slips out, and begins to curl into a fist. Before it disappears under the table altogether, I lift and grab it. His gaze softens, and he gives in to me, resting his hand on mine again.

“I love you.” I don’t know why I say it other than I just feel how much he cares, and I want him to know what that means to me.

“I love you, too,” he replies, some of the fight leaving his body. His shoulders don’t relax entirely, but he’s calmer. “Was hitting you a regular occurrence for him?”

“One time was all it took. I was lucky I could walk away. He didn’t cause permanent damage—”

“He didn’t leave any visible scars.”

“Yes, visible.”

“Promise me you’ll never defend him or his actions again. Not ever, Hannah.”

“I won’t.” I didn’t realize I had until I said the words, making excuses for him. I hate feeling like a victim, but I hate being a victim even more. I will never own that title. I will never be labeled less than beautiful and brave again.

With Jet by my side, I know I’ll never have to.

“Sometimes, I remember how distant his eyes were when he was hitting me and how the blows came faster. I wonder what would have happened if his band wouldn’t have found us when they did. If Dave hadn’t been there, would I be dead?” My gaze shoots back up to his. “I fought.”

A little squeeze of my hand reassures me. “Even though you never should have had to, I have no doubt you did.”

“The band went on to play that night, and he never even washed my blood off his hands.”

“What the fuck? They pulled him off you. What—”

“Dave helped me. He never took the stage. Instead, he took me into the bathroom of the bar by shielding me under his jacket. He washed my face and let me cry on his shoulder.”

“Fuck. Glad he was there. Did you go to the hospital?”

“No. I had no money. My credit cards were maxed. No insurance. Nowhere to go.”

“Where’d you go?”

“We left and found a cheap hotel about a mile away. Dave went and got food, and we watched TV. Well, I listened because I had bags of ice on my face, and my eyes were too swollen to see anything anyway. He was worried I had a concussion, so he kept me up all night talking. I don’t even remember what we talked about, maybe a little of everything. Anything other than our exes and what happened.” Unburdening my soul lightens the worries that weigh me down. “The next morning when the sun rose, we slept. He held me all night.” Making sure he understands it was purely platonic, I add, “As friends. Nothing more. We didn’t do anything then and never since.”

Jet nods his head. Loyalty. He gets it. “He is a good friend to you. I have no doubt you are to him as well. What about your family? Where were they?”

“In Austin. I had been on the receiving end of my father’s cold shoulder most of my life. He was all work and no play. Still is. I realize he only had one kid for a reason, but deep down, if he had none, he might have been happier. Not everyone who can reproduce should.”

“So he knew and did nothing?”

“My father and aunt were bred from cold parents and inherited their traits.”

He nods, looking away, and then turns back to say, “If I could punch your father right now, I would.”

“He’s not deserving of my time or energy. He most certainly is not worthy of yours.”

“What happened with you and Dave after that night?”

It sounds like he’s a little jealous by how he phrases it like that, but he’s met Dave. He knows we’re just friends. I see genuine curiosity as he waits to hear more.

“The next day we went our separate ways. Dave left the band the night before, but they still had all his stuff in their van. He asked me if I wanted to go with him and then head back to Austin, but something just felt in my gut wrong about going back. I think it was my dad. Dave gave me enough money to cover another few nights at the hotel, and I had enough to buy food. I had to pay daily, so when I went downstairs the front desk clerk, Sherri, took pity on me. She even let me stay two extra nights for free. After that, I waitressed at the diner next door and rented a room in Sherri’s house. After a few months, I found a job as a receptionist and moved into my own place. It wasn’t that nice, but no one knew where I lived. I liked the anonymity. I liked feeling safe because monsters don’t just live in your nightmares. In Dallas, I was safe from them; the monsters I knew in real life.”

“When I was fifteen, my mom dated a guy who walked into her house, seizing an opportunity to take over.” He scoffs and rubs his face. “He sold used computer parts he found in dumpsters and on bulk trash pick-up days. He labeled them as new without packaging. He forced us to help him once. The next time, he was smart enough not to take the three of us.”

“He sounds awful.”

“He hit my mom across the face, backhanded her for not having dinner on the table when he was ready to eat. He told us that you have to get a firm hold on your household or it falls apart, that women would look at us for direction and it was our job to dole out rewards and punishments so they fall in line.”

That’s not the Jet I know. It’s not Rivers, and even though Tulsa’s sowing some wild oats, his heart is good. All of them are good. They’ve shown me nothing but respect. That awful man’s lessons were never learned. Thank God.

Jet continues, “Then he looked at the three of us with our empty dinner plates on the table and pointed his fingers like a gun, shooting us one by one.”

He reaches for a cigarette, gets as far as pulling one from the pack, but then stops. Glancing at me, he puts it away. “To this day, I remember the sound he made as he shot each one of us.” His voice is so low as he replays the memory for me to hear.

My body knows to still, my mind focused on the man across from me. My heartbeats slow to a stop, and my breathing has ceased altogether.

The shift in his mood as he comes back to me this time is with a devious glint in his eyes. “The doctor told him his fingers would only take two months to be good as new. He could have pressed charges against us, especially me being fifteen, but I had a little talk with him as we walked back to the car. I told him if he ever came near my mom, my brothers, or my house again, he wouldn’t have fingers to heal. He dropped us off, and we never saw him again.”

This man astounds me at every turn. No wonder he took to Alfie so quickly. No wonder he didn’t shirk his responsibilities. When he loves, he loves fiercely, and in that, we are so very much the same. How did we get so lucky? “Your mom was fortunate to have you.”

“We were fortunate to have her.” He gets up and comes around, taking the chair next to mine. “Our break’s almost over, but why didn’t you go back to Austin? Why did you stay in Dallas so long?”

“I had enough for the bus fare to get back home in hotel money, but there was no point. I didn’t want to go back. There was nothing and no one worth wasting my life on. Except for my cousin. I came back for her because she asked me to. As you know, Eileen needed help with Alfie while she cared for Cassie.”

“So you left the life you created, gave it up to be there for the family who wasn’t there for you?”

“I came back for Cassie and Alfie, not my aunt, despite what she believes.”

“Where does that leave you now?”

“Right here with you.” I reach over and rest my hand on his leg. “I’m sorry you have to deal with the aftermath of the emotional damage from my ex. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“I’m not sorry. It just means words won’t be enough. I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman. Every day. And one day my love for you, shown through my actions, will drown his out.”

“They’re already starting to.”

“That’s not enough. I want you to forget the other life and live in this one with me.”

“You talk as if we’re already set in stone. As if we’re eternally meant to be.”

A sliver of a smile appears, that arrogance I tease him about, but secretly, love shines through. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. We’re what legends are made of, written in the stars for all time. There’s no shaking me. I’ve had a taste of forever, and I’m not willing to lose you now.”

“What does forever taste like?”

“It tastes like you, Hannah. Wildflower and cinnamon.”

Oh God. How I love this man.