The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1) (21 page)

Jessie didn’t know what to do next. The hours she spent literally wringing her guts out, and exposing everything she usually denied left her feeling totally drained. Totally flat. There was nothing left in her. Nothing left to feel. Nothing left to give. Nothing left to say. She was on the floor of Will’s bedroom, but she felt empty. He was leaving. She was leaving. Whatever small comfort, or sense of safety she possessed here was also now leaving.

They stayed silent for almost an hour. Finally, Will shifted,
and started to get up, his large body moving with unexpected grace.

“You need to get some sleep.”

She knew he was right. Will was always right about what she needed, although most times, she could never see it. Things like her sister. And Gretchen’s help. And marrying her. He knew, he saw, and still… he stayed with her. She didn’t quite know what to do with that knowledge.

He was up and moving around, while she felt dazed, almost drugged. She blinked when he spoke, and
nodded, slowly getting to her feet. She felt uncomfortable, dizzy. In contrast to the grace and poise of Will, she appeared just the opposite. Every part of her felt like it was stretching, and in ways her body shouldn’t move. She felt creaky, sore, and ill.

She scrimmaged around for a nightgown, and got into bed. She
tugged and pulled at whatever covers she could find. Exhaustion and fatigue were so deeply felt in her muscles, as well as her soul, she wondered if she’d ever find the strength or motivation to get out of bed again.

Will
disappeared into the other room. She heard him talk in muffled tones on the phone. No doubt lining up plan with Gretchen and Lindsey. Plans for her. He came in to check on her and clicked the lamp off. He turned to leave quietly.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay with me?”

She could physically feel his resistance. “Please? Just tonight.”

“Al
l right.” He left the room, no doubt to get his kitchen chair, and she sat up on the bed.

“That’s not what I meant. Stay here, as in sleep next to me.”

“That’s definitely not happening.”

“I’m not, I swear. I’m so
—”

What was she? What words in the English language could describe what she was? She felt terror in a deep place, which she couldn’t name, as well as pain, and the irresistible urge to run sharp objects across her skin. Were there names for all the terrible things she felt? Or haunted her mind, and told her what to do?

“Scared. I’m so scared.”

He knew. She could feel his energy. He knew she wasn’t afraid of the dark, or scared of simple things. She was scared for her life. For her mind. For her sanity. And for whatever was next.

Mostly, however, she was scared of what she might do to herself as soon as he left her.

He came to the bed, and paused. She could feel his hesitancy as he went to the opposite side of the bed, pulled down the covers and slid in beside her. He still wore his jeans and t-shirt. It didn’t matter to Jessie. His body felt huge, strong, and warm. His smell surrounded her, enveloping her. His massive body and his strength made her feel secure. Will meant safety. Safety from the dark, from her nightmares, and from her memories. Will was the beam of light that first gave her hope in the dark, dank cell.

He turned on his side, next to her, and nearly spooning, but not quite touching. His arm crossed over her and fell on the mattress near her stomach. She grabbed his hand between hers, and hung onto it with childlike need. His muscles felt huge against her, pinning one of her arms beneath her. He seemed so massive and strong that she had no doubt he could easily overtake her in one second flat. But that wasn’t how Will used his body or his mind. Will protected her and cared for her. He was always there for her, unlike everyone else. She liked trusting his nearness to her, always protecting her. It was the closest she’d ever come to feeling loved by a man,
as well as true intimacy.

They lay there together in silence and warmth
, and Jessie felt so comfortable, it made tears fall from her eyes. If only it were real. Why couldn’t Will cuddle her with genuine affection? She wished he had met her like a normal girl, got to know her and started dating her, until he could fall in love with her.

Instead, Will was embracing her, still there for her, but because of the sick connection they shared, and because he was a decent man. Jessie knew he was truly the most decent man she ever met. Until she met him, she never really believed that decent men existed in the world.

Will proved himself over and over to her. His loyalty and concern for her well being wasn’t something he had to give her. But he did, as well as the responsibility he accepted for her. She valued and cherished those attributes now, because clearly this was her last chance. Today became the day Jessie chose which road her life would take. Either she fixed her damaged psyche, and found a way to live with herself, or she was forever doomed to remaining dysfunctional, broken, and unlovable. It was her choice, and test, to make it or not.

“Gretche
n is lovely, isn’t she? As a woman, and as a person.”

Will jerked his arm as if stunned and sighed. His tone was a little hesitant, but resigned, when he answered, “
Yes. She is.”

“She’s your type, isn’t she? Lovely. Intelligent. Caring. It isn’t the tall, blond siren thing I first thought drew you to Lindsey. No, it’s their goodness. Their innocence. Their girl-next-door
niceness. They’re the kind of girls a man wants to spend his life with. The kind of girls men don’t do kinky things with for one night out.”

“Yes. I guess. I never really put much thought into it before.”

“I’m not that. None of it.”

“Jessie, that’s not
—”

“The point? I know. I just wish... that I was. I just wish when you met me, I had been in college, or maybe working somewhere. And that you saw me, liked me, and wanted to ask me out, simply to get to know me better. I wish I could be lovely, intelligent, and caring. I wish I’d been the kind of girl you’d choose to get to know.”

“That’s not—”

“Possible? I know. I know that. You met me naked and chained in a cell. There is no making me that girl. The good girl. I know that. I just wish I wasn’t so... so bad.”

His arms tightened around her. “Don’t. Stop it. I wasn’t going to say anything like that. I was going to tell you how lovely I think you are. I know there is wisdom and caring inside you. I think none of what happened to you was ever your fault. And the thing is, knowing what I know makes me off limits. But someone else won’t be, Jessie. Somewhere, there is a nice, decent man, who will truly love you, if you let him see and know the real Jessie. Not the Jessie who punishes herself for her father’s sins and perversions.”

“My father didn’t do it all.”

“He did. He did it all to you. Including Mexico. And someday you’ll know that. You aren’t to blame. You aren’t bad. You aren’t anything except General Travis Bains’s victim.”

“Have you, even for a second, wished we met some other way?”

“Every time I look at you, I wish I met you some other way.”

She turned in his arms and lay flat on her back. The room appeared gloomy in gray shadows. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah, of course, I mean it.” His face was closer and his eyes stared deeply into hers. She didn’t move or breathe, and didn’t shift her eyes.

“Would you do something for me?”

“If I can.”

“Would you kiss me? It’s not to have sex with me, or hurt me. But just to kiss me. Would you do that? Would you pretend we just met, and you really think I’m lovely and you want to kiss me for just that reason?”

His neck drew back, and his jaw stiffened, while his lips pressed into a frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please? I just want to know what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to be lovely. I don’t know how to be caring. I would like to know what it feels like to be kissed by someone who knows those things, like you.”

“Like me?”

“Respectful. Decent. Good.”

“You’re very naive about me. I’m not some fucking saint lying next to you. I’m not gay, Jessie. I’m a guy, like any other. You turn me on. You know you do. So no. I won’t lie in a bed next to you and kiss you, just so you can feel something that middle school kids feel.”

She was quiet
and never expected Will to respond like that. Not Will. But then, there was the other side of Will. The one who stormed a compound for her, and killed four men. The soldier who made a profession out of killing and maiming people just because the government ordered him. Will was not her nice, gay friend, whom she could cuddle with. He was right. She didn’t want to have sex with him. She didn’t feel turned on that way. Not by anyone. She felt safe, and well cared for with Will. And she just wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by someone who really cared for her. Not sex. She knew sex, as well as all its forms.

“You don’t even know what you’re like. You’re unlike all men. You’ll stop.
You will always do what I ask. I just want to know what it feels like to control it. To stop it and enjoy it. I never enjoy it.”

“Ever?”

“No. Not ever. I hated every man that ever touched me, kissed me, or pushed himself into me. I hated each and every one of them. I know it makes no sense. I was the pursuer most of the time, and told them to do it. Yet, I hated them. I hated myself. And it was a good way of punishing me. I don’t want to do that anymore. For once, I just want to kiss a man because I like him.”

His hand shifted to her elbow, then slid down her ar
m to her hand. He laced his fingers into hers. He rarely held her hand. His other hand brushed her side, her stomach, and the outside of her breast as he ran it up her torso, so gently, and slowly until it met her jaw line. He cupped her chin, and slowly lifted her face, her mouth, towards his. He had to shift slightly and lean over her, before his mouth descended on hers.

His lips were warm and full. They pressed hers so gently. Then he raised his head, and looked at her, before lowering it again, and placing his lips back on hers. This time, there was more pressure. He moved over her lips, first her upper, then her lower, kissing her softly and gently.

She nearly sighed with pleasure. It was so... nice. Slow. Gentle. Languid. And lovely.

His hand moved into her hair. Goose bumps broke out on her skin. It was so new: his affection, his slowness, and his awareness of her as a person.

He started to pull his head back, and she shifted, raising her head so her lips stayed on his. He lowered his head and suddenly, his mouth changed, becoming firmer, faster. He opened his mouth and she felt his tongue. She instantly closed hers. Here it comes. The inevitable overpowering. The taste of a man. Sex.

He suddenly stopped.

“Where did you go just then?”

She opened her eyes
and saw him staring right at her. “What?”

“You changed. You didn’t like that. It becomes clinical, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

His mouth lowered on hers again. Closed and gentle, she liked that. He was right. She liked it that way.

She could feel his body next to hers. He was getting turned on. She could feel him rigid and hard along her leg. His heat penetrated his jeans, warming her. He warned her. She couldn’t get mad or frustrated. They weren’t still in middle school. She couldn’t expect him to let her explore foreplay without it all leading to the logical conclusion: sex.

His hand slid to her shoulders, and his mouth came off hers, moving to her chin, and then her neck. Butterfly-like kisses. She felt a strange chill settling over her skin, but it wasn’t abhorrence or fear. On the contrary, it was pleasant.

His hand slid to the side of her chest, and along her breast. He could feel the weight of it, but he didn’t move. He didn’t grab, and he didn’t rub. His mouth stayed on her neck, her collarbone, her jaw, her earlobe. His breath was warm and sweet. He moved slowly. Easily.

She sighed at how nice it felt.

His hand slid from the side of her breast, and over the top of her, touching the silk of her nightgown. Her nipple hardened into a tight, almost painful bud at his soft caress. Then his hand swept back over it, barely grazing it. Barely touching it. She nearly came off the bed with surprise. It felt so good. A little intense, but soft and tender.

Then his hand slid lower. And stopped.

Because her baby was there in a growing round mound.

She sighed. It was over. All of it. Only a few seconds of her life allowed her to escape her reality.
For only a few seconds she actually felt something new. Something nice. Something good. Something that felt like it would be a different way to have sex than she ever imagined.

His lips moved off her. He put both arms around her and pulled her closer to him. She could feel him against her. He didn’t, however, do anything with it, but just held her near him. Her body warmed to his, but he didn’t move against her, or even try to relieve the pressure he had to feel. Tears leaked from her eyes. They trickled onto his arm under her head.