“I did. The cops weren’t as scary as I thought they would be. One in particular spoke with my mother. It was evident she was beaten up pretty bad. He asked if I loved her.” He shakes his head. “He was just setting me up. He dragged the truth out of me in less than fifteen minutes. My whole life flashed before my eyes as the gravity of what I did hit me.”
My fingers float to my lips. “Then what happened?” Even though this was years ago, a part of me still fears for that frightened little boy.
“He gave my shoulder a firm squeeze—said it’s a tragedy when accidents like that strike. He told me to keep my stuff off the stairs so my mother and sister wouldn’t get hurt, and then he looked me in the eye and said I was the man of the house now—it was up to me to make sure they were taken care of. And that’s what I did up until the day my mother died. That’s what I plan on doing for Lucky until my dying breath.”
My arms squeeze tight around him one more time. “He gave you great mercy.”
“He did.” Jet’s warm tears drench my shoulder. “I understand if I’m not the person you thought I was. You might even think I’m a monster.”
“No way.” I inch back until our eyes are locked once again. “You are my man. I am not going anywhere. What happened back then—you were operating on instinct, trying to protect your mother the only way you knew how.”
“That’s true. Honestly, I was shooting for a broken leg at most and got a hell of a lot more than I bargained for. Toxicology came back, and he was lethal that night, but I know the truth. My mother was wrong. It wasn’t the alcohol that killed him.”
“In a way it did. Life wouldn’t have played out that way if he had never touched a bottle.”
“Maybe so.”
“You’re a wonderful big brother to Lucky. Your parents are proud of you—both of them. I know they are.”
“That’s the strangest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” He gives a dull chuckle as we settle back and watch the night sky in all its splendor.
“Maybe so, but Lucky sure isluckyto have you.”
Before he can respond, a brilliant white explosion sears across the sky.
“Shooting star!” My voice shrills into the night as I point up at the long silver tail.
Jet and I marvel as the cosmic wonder dissipates to nothing.
“That was amazing.” I twist until I’m looking up at his gorgeous face once again. “Someone up there agrees with what I said. Lucky is veryluckyto have you.” My fingers graze against his stubble. “And I am, too.”
Jet blesses me with a kiss that erases all of the heartache and pain from both of our lives. It rinses out the sins of the pasts and trades them for something pure and right. Jet and I are pure and right. There’s not a man in this world I’d rather have by my side during this hurricane that’s overtaken my life.
It will all work out. And if none of this nonsense goes away, it’ll still work out because I have Jet with me every step of the way.
It’s all good.
There isone thing that doesn’t feel very good at the moment, and that’s this new and improved circus that’s taken over my life. Jet’s front lawn is a nest of vipers. Whitney Briggs is flooded once again with reporters posing as students. Scarlett suggested I stay away, but I can’t afford to flunk out, and if I stay away until this scandal dissipates, I might just do that. Jet walks me to each of my classes and waits for me outside as if he were my personal body guard. Once the last of them is through, we head for his truck.
“Where to?” he asks, squirting washer fluid into the eyes of a couple of nosy bodies trying to get a picture of me through the windshield.
“Downtown Jepson.” I hand him an address I’ve been itching to get to all the livelong day.
He stares down at the name scrawled up at the top. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Oh, honey, I was born to do this.”
Jet speeds us all the way down to the shiny, glossy skyscraper that needles into the stratosphere. We take the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and walk into a sprawling reception area ensconced in dark wood. It’s fitting. My world feels rather dark at the moment.
Once my name is called, I take Jet with me as we follow the receptionist behind a set of immense double doors where we see the woman herself—Dorma Morano.
I have admired a lot of people in my life, but this woman has held a place of special honor. This petite-framed brunette with the rather no-nonsense, bullish look on her face is the living, breathing reason I wanted to go into law in the first place.
“What an honor to meet you!” I stumble forward until an awkward handshake ensues. “All my life I’ve wanted to meet you—beyou! I have such admiration and respect, and I think—”
“That’s very kind.” The impression of a forced smile comes and goes as she nods for us to take our seats. “Daisy Pembrooke.” She searches my features. “I’ve been waiting days for this visit.”
“You know me?”
