Fever (38 page)

whatever it was he had to know. It was pivotal to understanding her and why she clung so fiercely to

Jack.

“Then make me understand,” he said quietly. “But we’re going to talk inside where it’s warm, after

you’ve gotten into dry clothes. Then I’ll listen and you’ll explain. We’ll figure this out. Together,

Bethany.”

She started to shake her head but he stood, scooping her up with him.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he bit out. “The
hell
I’m letting you walk out of my life. We’re

going to sort this out and you’re going to tell me why you have such blind loyalty for fucking Jack.

And by God, when it’s all done with, you’re not walking out of my life. You’re not going anywhere

but to bed with me.”

chapter thirty-one

Jace breathed a discernible sigh of relief as soon as the elevator doors shut behind him in his

apartment. He’d make damn sure she didn’t get anywhere near the elevator. Not for a damn long time.

He carried her into the bathroom and after setting her down on the closed toilet, he reached in to

turn on the shower. Then he immediately began to peel off the soggy clothing. His hands were shaking

—not from cold—and he was powerless to make them stop. He was utterly wrecked by the magnitude

of what he’d almost done.
Had
done.

“Jace, please, just let me go,” she said in a soft voice choked with emotion. “There’s no need to

prolong this. Just let me go back to my life and you go back to yours.”

He grasped her face in his palms and stared fiercely into her eyes. “I’m not letting you go. Ever.

It’s not happening. How the fuck am I supposed to get back to my life when you
are
my life? As if my

life would mean a goddamn thing if you weren’t in it. Now we’re getting into the shower and

warming up. We’re both freezing our asses off. You more than me. You’ve been out in the fucking

weather for hours. I’ll be lucky if you don’t have hypothermia.”

Her eyes widened, and then he released her face and pulled her to her feet, shedding his own

clothes as he shoved her toward the shower.

He couldn’t control the shaking that had invaded his limbs. He could barely manage to hold on to

her in the shower, but he anchored her firmly against his body, using the heat of the water as well as

the heat from his own body to warm her.

She was like a block of ice, the cold so deeply ingrained that it had chilled her blood. It killed him

that she’d been so long out in the rain, desolate, distraught, all because he’d handled things

completely wrong. He’d made her believe she was nothing. That she had nothing. When she was

goddamn
everything
to him.

He loved her. If there’d been any doubt before this, it was gone now. And you didn’t treat someone

you loved like he’d treated her. He hadn’t shown any understanding. He hadn’t listened to her, hadn’t

waited for her to explain. All this time, he’d been patient, waiting for her to discuss her past, to share

that part of her with him. And when he’d had the opportunity, he’d blown it.

That would never happen again. And he’d be damned if he let her walk out of his life when he’d

waited thirty-eight years for her to walk into it.

Heat swelled and surrounded them and he felt her shivering finally ease as she sagged into his

arms, warm and pliant and so very precious. All he’d ever wanted, he held right now in his arms. He

wasn’t letting go. He never lost a battle he was truly invested in and this was the most important one

of his life.

He kissed her temple and let his mouth slide down her soft cheek to her chin. His. His woman. His

lover. His
wife
, if he had any damn thing to say about it. He was going to tie her so tightly to him that

she’d breathe the same air as he did.

“Are you warm now?” he murmured against her ear.

She nodded and he reluctantly pulled her from his embrace and turned the water off. He hurried her

out of the shower and rubbed her briskly with a towel so she wouldn’t grow chilled again. When he

got to her hair, he pulled it from her neck, his gaze settling on the choker he’d given her for Christmas.

She hadn’t taken it off. Even when she’d been so hurt. He traced the lines with his finger and then

leaned in to kiss the space between her ear and the choker where her pulse fluttered under his lips.

She took a step away, her eyes still haunted and guarded. “Jace . . .”

“Shhh, Bethany. Just give me some time here. You need to be warm and dry and then we’re going

to talk. About everything. And you aren’t leaving. Don’t even think about it. I’ll tie you to my bed and

not suffer an ounce of remorse, if that’s what I have to do to keep you here.”

She bit her lip but went silent, allowing him to wrap her hair in the towel. Then he grabbed his

robe from the hook on the back of the door and helped her into it, tying it securely around her waist.

He took only a few moments to towel off and pull dry clothing on before he urged her into the

living room.

He turned on the fire and settled her on the couch.

“Give me just a few more minutes to make you a cup of hot chocolate and I’ll be back.”

He waited, hesitant to leave her for even that amount of time, but the fact that she was only in his

robe—something he’d done purposely—reassured him that she wouldn’t be bolting out of his

apartment.

But still, he waited for her agreement and when she finally nodded, his chest lightened in relief.

It seemed to take an eternity for the milk to heat in the microwave. He hastily stirred in the mix and

sweetened it just how she liked it and then he went back into the living room where she was cuddled

on the couch.

Her feet were tucked underneath her as if she were seeking more warmth and she’d taken the throw

from the end and positioned it over her lap. He wasn’t sure if she needed the extra warmth or if she

was adding layers as a protective measure . . . from him.

He’d allow no barriers between them. Not anymore. But first they had to get everything out in the

open.

He handed her the mug and she clasped it in both hands, absorbing the warmth into her palms. He

settled onto the couch next to her, turning so they faced one another. He pulled his knee up and toward

the back so that it was touching hers. She didn’t move away, something he took as a positive sign, but

he knew he had a lot of ground to make up.

“I owe you an apology,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I just lost it. When I thought

of all the things that could have happened to you, I went a little crazy and I said things I didn’t mean. I

never meant to make you feel like you were nothing or had nothing. If you believe nothing else,

believe that.”

The mug shook in her hands as she lowered it from her mouth. “I understand. I do. But, Jace, I told

you what I almost did.”

Her face was a wreath of pain and shame. It was nearly his undoing. No longer able to keep any

distance at all between them, he took the mug from her hands and placed it on the coffee table before

returning and moving closer. He looped one arm along the back of the couch so his fingers touched

her shoulder and he pulled her other hand into his, caressing her palm with his thumb.

“‘Almost’ is the key word, baby. You almost took a pill. But you didn’t. You stopped. You didn’t

do it.”

She closed her eyes and his heart clenched when a tear slipped down one cheek.

“I had come such a long way,” she whispered. “Until today. Until I saw those pills. I don’t think

about them. I mean, I hadn’t. I haven’t wanted them. Not since I got clean. And then today I wanted it

more than
anything
. It was a compulsion.”

She shuddered and bowed her head. He slid his fingers underneath her chin and gently lifted until

she was forced to meet his gaze once more.

“Baby,
you didn’t do it,
” he said quietly, with emphasis. “It doesn’t matter what you wanted, what

you thought. You didn’t take it. That took strength. You beat it and it doesn’t have you in its grasp any

longer. Didn’t today prove that to you?”

Hope was so poignant in her eyes that it cut him in two.

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t want you beating yourself up over this. And from now on, I’m going to be here

to help you. You don’t have to be alone. You won’t be alone. You’re moving in with me. I’ve waited.

I didn’t want to push you too soon. That’s why I moved you into my sister’s old apartment. But I’m

done with that. You’re going to be here with me.”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened to protest and he silenced her with a kiss.

“You’re mine, Bethany. You belong to me. I belong to you. You belong here. That’s not

negotiable.”

“But Jack . . .”

He drew away, some of his mood deteriorating. “We do have to talk about Jack. He’s dangerous to

you, Bethany. I won’t tolerate that. I won’t tolerate any threat to you.”

Her breath stuttered out and it was obvious she worked to control the tears that threatened.

“I can’t just turn my back on him, Jace. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Make me understand. Tell me why. Tell me what hold he has on you.”

She closed her eyes and the tears she’d battled slipped in silent, silver streams down her cheeks.

“He took so much for me. He protected me. You can’t
imagine
what he took for me, Jace.”

His chest burned and a knot formed in his throat. He knew with certainty that he wouldn’t like what

she was about to tell him, but he would sit and listen if it killed him. This was her past and she was

finally giving everything to him. Trusting him with the secrets she’d kept and the dark pain in her

eyes.

“We were in and out of foster homes. We aren’t related by blood. You know that. But we’d bonded

and social services tried to place us together when possible. It wasn’t always. But they knew if we

went together that we were less likely to cause trouble and so when they could they accommodated

our need to be together. We were the only family each other had.”

She paused and sucked in deep, steadying breaths.

“Go on, baby,” he said gently. “I’m listening. Nothing can hurt you now.”

“When I was twelve, Jack was fifteen. He was big for his age. I know he doesn’t look it now. He’s

too thin, but when he’s healthy and well fed, he’s a big guy. Tall and broad shouldered. Anyway, we

were in a home together and the father . . .”

Jace tensed, his entire body bristling with rage. He didn’t like where she was going with this.

“The father used to look at me and it worried Jack. Jack would never let me out of his sight or

leave me alone with our foster dad. It turned out the father didn’t much care if it was girls or boys.”

She shuddered in revulsion, her face going pale. Distress radiated from her in waves. He pulled

her into his arms and held her tightly, turning her face so she could continue speaking. He stroked her

hair, trying to offer her comfort in any way he could.

“He took that for me,” she whispered. “He put himself in the way every single time the father came

after me. Jack allowed that man to abuse him so that I wouldn’t be abused and, oh God, I can never

forget that, Jace. I can’t forget it. He took that for me for
months
until we were finally able to get

away.”

“Oh baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Jack’s always taken care of me. When I was in the car accident. Before that. After that. It’s

always been him who made sure we had food to eat, clothes to wear. When I wasn’t able to get more

pain medication prescribed—and at that time I was still having so much pain—Jack got the pills for

me. And then, when I became addicted, he risked arrest and God knows what else to make sure I had

what I needed.”

Jace sighed. It was a sticky situation, no doubt. He saw Jack in a new light, but it didn’t mean he

was okay with the man fucking things up for Bethany now. Jack was into more than just a habit for

prescription drugs. He was buying, if not dealing, the hard shit. The kind of stuff that could get a

person killed or sent to prison for a very long time. There was no way in
hell
he was going to let

Bethany be exposed to that.

“I understand why you feel the way you do, baby, but listen to me. Jack has gone beyond that now.

He’s in deep and he’s putting you in serious danger. I can’t allow that. I
won’t
allow it. I’ll never

agree to anything that can harm you. Do you understand that?”

She shifted and raised her head so she could look him in the eye. “I do understand, Jace. I do. I’m

not making excuses for him. I don’t like what he’s doing, but the idea of him being cold and hungry

and in danger himself . . . it breaks my heart. I can’t help but wonder if he’d be like he is if it weren’t

for me.”

Jace shook his head, making sure she saw his vehemence. “You can’t take the blame for this. I

won’t let you. He protected you. I’ll always be grateful he did that. But baby, even he wouldn’t blame

you for what he is now. We all make choices. He made some bad ones, but that doesn’t mean
you