Hope for Us (Hope Series Book #3) (20 page)

Finding Carrington lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, the disgusting puss coming out of my ankle after surgery, all the scary shit I had seen in my life did nothing to prepare me for walking into that room and seeing Jack’s limp body on the hospital bed. His lips were blue and they had a tube down his throat and my heart and head exploded with emotion. A few hours later, he sat up in bed, watched television, and flirted with the nurses. 

I knew about these attacks but had never witnessed them myself. I felt so stupid for not being more prepared, not asking more questions. I was more prepared for a fucking football game than I was prepared for if something happened to Jack on my watch.

I tried not to take Carrington’s statement to heart. Her stress and worry, made her say things she didn’t mean, but I felt like the progress we made in our relationship, in her trusting me, took two steps back today. I avoided her gaze and concentrated on Jack. When he started drifting off, I excused myself. I needed to get some air, and Mr. Griffin joined me.

“That was scary,” I said.

“Yes, but Carrington handled it like a pro.”

“She's amazing.”

“Yes, she is,” Mr. Griffin said and smirked up at me.

“What?”

“I’m thrilled the two of you found your way back together.”

I lowered my head.

“You are together?” he asked.

“Yes …but.”

“But what?”

“Nothing. I just.” I shook my head. “I should have been more prepared for this.” I pointed to the hospital.

“You didn’t cause this. Jack has been managing his asthma well for a long time. He knows everything about it.”

“This is going to sound really stupid and immature, but it pisses me off that you know more about them than I do.”

“Well … I don’t mean to sound like a pompous ass, but I didn’t give up on them.”

“I didn’t give up.”

“Well, what do you call it?” He reached up and put a hand on my shoulder. “You haven’t been in their lives for six years. If you hadn’t gotten traded here, who knows how much longer you both would have been content at begin miserable. I’m not trying to upset you, but you do understand that if you’re together, that’s it. No more back and forth. No more it will happen for us, but not right now. This is it. You are either in or out.”

“Hey.” We both turned to watch Carrington walk toward us. She wrapped her arm over her chest. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. How’s Jack?” I asked.

“He’s fine. He’s annoyed that he missed your flyover. Why don’t you go sit with him for a while?”

“Okay.” Mr. Griffin kissed Carrington on the cheek and she leaned into it like he did it all the time. Another sign that their relationship had evolved over the year.

Carrington stood in front of me, her head back, looking up at me. I placed my hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Of course. I’m just … I don’t know, relieved.”

“It’s okay to talk about it. It’s scary. The thought that he can stop breathing so easy.”

“How often does this happen?”

“The last time he had an attack like this, he was five.”

“I wish I knew this stuff. Like you know it. I mean, we’ve hung out alone a few times, and what if he had an attack while he was with me. I would have no idea what to do. How do you let him out of your sight?”

She giggled. “It scares me every day, but he is really smart about his issues and can handle them. If he can’t, he knows how to get help.”

“Fuck Carrington.” I pulled her into my arms and held her tight. I rested my head on hers, afraid to let her go. Being with her and what it means, got all too real tonight.

“Listen. I know it’s a lot to take. Believe me. If you …” she said. “If it’s too much. You know. It’s okay.”

I pushed her back, holding her at arm’s length. I studied her face. Mr. Griffin’s words echoed in my brain.

He was right. I always see myself best reflected in the way Carrington looked at me. She thought I was looking for an excuse. She thought I couldn’t handle it. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“I’m not standing here trying to figure a way out.”

Carrington looked away. I turned her face back to me. I needed her to look at me, to understand what I was getting at.   

“I’m trying to figure out a way to tell you … show you … how sorry I am.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For giving up on you, on us so quickly. For not trying harder with you. For taking the easy way out.”

“That’s now how I see what happened between us.”

“It’s how I see it.”

“It doesn’t matter now. The past is the past. We’re together now.”

“It kills me to think of all the times you had to deal with something like what happened tonight alone. When I could have been there for you. I should have been there for both of you.”

“Jackson.”

“I want to know him and what he needs like you do. Like Mr. Griffin does. Okay? Promise me.”

“Okay.”

“And promise me you will let me help you when you talk to him about Josh?”

She sighed and blinked back tears.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do or what to say. It’s up to you how you want to handle it, but it does need to be handled, Baby.”

“I know,” she whispered. I pulled her into my arms and felt her body shake as she cried over the loss of her son’s innocence. I hoped it gave her some relief to know she wouldn’t be going through it alone.

We slept propped up on an uncomfortable couch in Jack’s hospital room. The next morning, Carrington insisted that I go to practice. I tried to stay present and worked my way through it, but my mind remained on Carrington and Jack.

I called Carrington as I left the facility.

“Hey Baby, I’m on my way back to the hospital. You need anything?”

“No. I …” she coughed to clear her throat. “I’m fine.”

“You okay? Jack okay?”

“No, he’s fine. Listen, I ran home to grabs a few things. Go on to the hospital, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” She hung up and I headed toward her house. Something was wrong; I could hear it in her voice.

When I arrived, I knocked but let myself in. Carrington enjoyed her background noise; the quiet house increased my concern. 

“Carrington.”

A muffled whimper came from the back of the house.

I walked into her room and found her in bed, under the covers.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I walked over. When I sat next to her, she turned away from me. I put my hand on her arm and she pushed it away.

“Carrington, please. Talk to me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Not gonna happen.” I reached out to her, and this time, she didn’t push me away. “What’s wrong?”

“I ruined everything.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned back toward me.

“You and I-” She rubbed the tears off her face. “And Jack. We could have been together all this time and I pushed you away and now I’ve ruined all of us.”

“That’s not true. We are not ruined.”

“Yes, we are.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. “When I came back to school. The first game I went to with Mr. Griffin, he told me then how great we were together. He told me if you and I hurried up and got together, then Jack would never have to worry about not having a father. He was right.”

“Carrington.” I shook my head.

“No, he would have been raised with you as his father, and he wouldn’t be missing anything. He wouldn’t have the blank hole in his heart for something unknown that now is going to be filled with the pain after he finds out the type of man he came from. I could have avoided all of it if I hadn’t pushed you away.”

Tears were falling now. I reached out and tried to pull her into my arms, but she crawled across the bed to the other side in an attempt to avoid my touch. Her pity party didn’t seem like her, and I didn’t like it.

She swung her legs over the other side of the bed and sat staring out the window. 

“You blame yourself for not fighting harder for me. Well, I blamed you too, for so long, but now I see it wasn’t fair. I was the one who ruined us, and I don’t see how you can forgive me. I don’t see how I can forgive myself.”

I stood up and placed my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking. I stared at Carrington and watched her shoulders rise and fall as she cried. She wore her hair pulled back, off her neck. I squeezed my eyes shut as I recalled what it felt like to kiss her in that spot, to wrap my arms around her waist, and hold her close to me.

The times we had been together, since I arrived in Phoenix, Carrington had been in control, of everything, every aspect of our relationship; I waited and followed her lead. Even when we had sex, it was how she wanted it.

I had been this way our entire relationship and because I knew how controlled she felt being with Josh, I let it happen. I overheard Josh talking to a few of our brothers how Carrington did whatever he said in and out of the bed and that image stuck in the back of my brain. I had been trying so hard not be like Josh, that I never showed her what I needed and wanted from her.

I needed to show her now.

The bed shifted when Jackson stood up. I breathed a sigh of relief. Jackson must have come to the same conclusion as I did. Too much had happened. Too much hurt and pain and distance between us. I feared I would never be myself and be who he needed. I fooled myself into think those two people could be the same person, but they weren’t. I liked having someone on my side, there for me, but it wasn’t enough. My insides were twisted in a knot and my heart squeezed in a vise with every breath I took.

It’s better this way.

It would only hurt for a minute and then it would all be over and life would return to normal. I could concentrate on living my life and taking care of my son.

In a few minutes, Jackson would walk out of my life and I—

The bed dipped behind me and before I could turn, Jackson's arm's wrapped around my waist. I gasped as he pulled me back across the bed, pushed me on my back and swung his leg over to straddle me. His strong legs on either side of my hips. Before I could push him off, he grabbed both of my wrists and pushed them over my head. He sat back, over me, glaring down at me, his blue eyes dark and wet. His jaw clinched as he gnawed on his lip. I narrowed my eyes and tried to keep my breath steady.

I knew he would never hurt me. His power move had me curious, but not scared.

“Jackson, get off of me, please.”

He shook his head and gnawed on his lip, his eyes wide and damp. I twisted my wrist to get free, but Jackson tightened his grip. 

“Stop,” I whimpered, but he wasn’t listening. He was beyond listening. He stared down at me, looking for something. I knew what he wanted. I wasn’t sure I was even capable of giving it to him. He wanted me to stop running, stop making excuses, stop pushing him away.

He placed both my wrists in one hand and used the other hand to touch my face; he touched my forehead, down my nose, and across my lips, as if memorizing my lines by touch. He continued down my neck to my chest. He placed the palm of his hand on the center of my chest and pressed, covering my heart from the outside in. I released a throaty whimper.  I watched his hands, but when he settled on my chest, I found his eyes, staring through me. The tension in my whole body released, and I sighed again, but for another reason.

Jackson leaned over and kissed my lips, soft and gentle. A direct contrast to the grip he had on my wrist. He pulled back and I dared to follow, not wanting our connection to end. His mouth curled into a sly grin and my head feel back down on the bed. He rewarded me with another kiss—slow, long, wet and firm. His tongue darted into my mouth, possessing it, and I welcomed it. I welcomed him.

I spent so much time being too scared to get too close, too intimate. I forgot what it felt like. Every sense, every nerve ending on my body turned on. My body hummed. My wrists were free, but I didn’t realize until both his hands found their way under my shirt, pushing it up over my head. My throat caught when his hands brushed over my breasts. He sensed it and as soon as he had my shirt off, his hands returned.

He stopped kissing me and watched my response to his touch. His fingertips grazed my nipples, and I stifled a moan. He blinked and instead of grazing, he squeezed my breast, his rough palm massaging my nipples and I couldn’t hold in the moan any longer. I licked my lips and Jackson captured them between his and sucked on them.

I felt things in his kiss and in his touch I had never felt before. I felt his desperations and his need. I felt how much he had to have me in his life. How much his sanity along with my own depended on it. He moved his lips down my neck and chest without leaving my body. His mouth replaced his fingers on my left nipple and then my right.

At the same time, he slid himself down and pushed my legs apart with his knee. His hand found its way between my legs, and he wasted no time pushing my panties aside and pressing his fingers into me. When I tilted my pelvis up to meet his fingers, he pulled them out and I whimpered and my eyes shot open. He stared up at me grinning. He enjoyed frustrating me.

“Jackson-”

“Shh. We tried it your way. Now it’s my turn.” His fingers plunged into me, and I cried out in hopes of encouraging him to continue to do what he wanted.

I laid back and let him explore me. His lips would be on my hip while one hand massaged my breast and another hand scraped the back of my leg. Some part of him touched every part of me. I was wrapped within a Jackson Latre Mitchell cocoon, and I felt safe and warm, my body awake and turned on. I wasn’t sure I could take much more. I wanted him so badly it hurt.

“Jackson,” I whispered his name.

“Mmm,” he said, his mouth busy.

I tried to push myself up on my elbows to watch as his tongue flicked in and out. My body shivered as I collapsed back on the bed. Jackson pushed my legs apart even further as he licked, sucked, and made me moan. Words left my brain. I gripped the sheets as I squirmed away from his mouth. His kisses were too rough for my sensitive area as I climaxed, but he wouldn’t let me get away as he placed small kisses on my thighs.

I reached down and touched his face, and he kissed my hand. He pulled me up by my wrist and came up to meet me with his lips on mine. He removed his clothes and crawled on the bed with his back against the headboard. He pulled me onto his lap, and his hardness, rubbing against me. I wanted him inside of me, but I waited to see what he would do and what he wanted me to do to him. I didn't have to wait long.

“Touch me.”

I sat back on his thighs and looked down at him. I gripped him, wrapped my fingers around him tight, and stroked him. I searched his eyes for confirmation. He stared back and nodded for me to continue.

I swiped my thumb over the tip and he winced and groaned.

“I want you so fucking bad."

I whimpered at his choice of phrases.

“Do you want me, Carrington?” I exhaled and nodded my head. A tear fell down my cheek, and Jackson leaned over and caught it with his thumb.

“Tell me,” he said. He placed his hands under my thighs and jerked me up close, my arms wrapped around his neck, our faces centimeters from each other. He positioned himself for action in anticipation of my answer. He wasn’t just asking if I wanted to have sex with him. His question, broader than that, and my answer would determine the rest of our lives. He asked again.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Jackson thrust up as he pushed me down on him. We both gasped. The intensity swelled and bubbled to the surface. It had been bottled up since the day we met.

Glimpses of our true feelings for each other surfaced over the years. In a random conversation back at school, as he held my hand after Josh attacked me, in the first time we slept together, but they were only glimpses. A fraction of how we truly felt about each other and what we needed from each other. Here and now, the emotion of our true selves exuded from each and every pore, and we clung to it and to each other and stared into each other’s eyes vowing to never let anything or anyone alive or dead come between us again.

I lay curled up in his arms, feeling more open and vulnerable. What happened between us spoke volumes, but I knew I needed to talk. I needed to tell him everything.

“I’m sorry, about what I said in the hospital about not needing you when it came to Jack. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“I am so mad at myself for letting Josh control me and making me feel sorry for him, and the way he manipulated me. I didn’t want him. I wanted you, and he made me doubt that. He made me doubt what my heart and my brain were screaming at me." As I let it out, the tears fell. "I need you to believe me. I didn’t want to want him. We both missed out on so much because of what he did to me. Why did he do that to me? Why?”

“Shh, shh, come here.” Jackson sat up and pulled me in his lap. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I hate him, Jackson. I hate him so much.”

“Shh, I know.” He held me as I sobbed, feeling safe to let it all out. I closed my heart off for so long because of what Josh did to me and now it was so wide open because of the love offered by Jackson.

I clung to Jackson as he held me and took everything I had to offer. 

When my sobs subsided and I could speak, I sat up and stared into his eyes.

“Thank you for coming to look for me.”

“I told you a long time ago that I got you. Whatever you need.”

I exhaled and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his chest to mine. “You know, it’s okay.”

“What is?” He rubbed my back.

“If you need to talk about Josh. It’s okay.” I pulled back again. “I can handle it. I knew Josh for nine months; you knew him for nine years. ”