His question is gentle, and though it feels somewhat like an invasion, I don't turn away from him. Though I do cry harder, then my hands cover my face and I find myself curling into a ball. Jace is the only person I've told about what happened who didn't tell me it was all in my head. He read my journal and so far, I don't think he even doubts me for a second.
The bed dips and then Jace is there, settling beside me and curling around me until his weight cuts through the spiral ofgrief threatening to pull me under completely. "Talk to me. What do you need?"
"I don't know." I can barely speak between sobs. "I don't know what I need. I thought if Ethan wouldn't help me, that letting you hurt him would make me feel better and…" The sobs take over again and I can't stop them. This isn't how a trained soldier is supposed to behave. I'm stronger than this, but I'm falling apart anyway.
He holds me tighter, and his mouth is right by my ear. I can't believe I'm letting an assassin in my bed to hold me, but I really don't want him to leave. "Sabine, it's okay. You've been hiding this pain forever and no one ever let you feel vulnerable to let it out. Hey… shh…."
"But I'm supposed to be stronger than this." Every bit of my military conditioning is screaming at me to stop it, but I can't. It hurts too much to hold back. "I'm a soldier. I've been through so much worse… right?"
"Being violated by someone you trusted and then having the system fail you would break anyone." He curls some hair around my ear but he doesn't pull away. "You're a strong woman, Sabine."
I know his words are performative, just something people say to others when they don’t know what to say, but hearing them helps a little. My hands lower from my face and I turn slightly to look at him, and the expression he's wearing isn't pity or discomfort. It's understanding. He's carried his own pain and understands me. It's more than I'd ever have gotten from Caldwell or any of those other military brutes.
"I'm sorry," I tell him. "You don't need to deal with this. You have your own problems and I'm just?—"
"Stop." To my surprise, he doesn't pull away at all. I half expect him to retreat now, go back to the couch where he's more comfortable. "You're not a burden and you don't need to apologize for being human. We're in this together now, and that means when you're falling apart, I catch you. Same as you caught me when I was bleeding out on your floor."
I chuckle as I think of how easily he's let go of the fact that I almost killed him with my knife. "This is the strangest partnership I've ever had."
"Same." His mouth quirks in a smile. "But it's working so far."
The crying has subsided into occasional hitches in my breathing, and the exhaustion that's been hovering at the edges finally crashes over me in a wave that makes keeping my eyes open feel impossible. My body is heavy and my mind is foggy, and the thought of being alone right now fills me with dread. When Jace starts to finally pull away, I capture his wrist.
"Will you stay…? Just for a while. I don't want to be alone right now." This is the weirdest thing I've ever asked a complete stranger in my life. I don't know him. He doesn't know me, and the last thing we should be doing is spooning like lovers, but the idea of this big bed alone after feeling the comfort of his arms around me feels painful.
For a moment he doesn't respond, and fear that I've overstepped flickers through my chest before he moves. His weight shifts back against me on the mattress and then he's curling around me again. His arm comes around my shoulders and pulls me against his side like an anchor in a storm.
"I'm not going anywhere." His hand rubs slow circles on my upper arm. "Get some rest. I've got you."
I lay there feeling tense for a few moments. It's such an intimate thing for us to be doing when we both know this doesn't end well for either of us, but I feel safe. It's like he understands my heart is fragile. I wonder how much of that played into his decision to kill Caldwell in that parking lot. Or if he even thought about it at all when he pulled that trigger. And his answer comes before I can ask the question.
"I'm going to help you get the bastards who hurt you." Jace sounds determined, which is more than I can even muster right now. "Bryan and everyone who covered for him. We're gonna make sure they all pay for what they did, and when it's done, you'll have the proof you need to expose everything."
I believe him. After seeing what he did to Caldwell and watching the news stories about the others, I believe Jace will do what he says. And I don't like the way that thought comforts me.
"Thank you… For staying. For helping. For not making me feel broken."
"You're not broken," he says, and I swear I feel his lips press on the back of my head in a soft kiss.
But sleep claims me before formulating a response, and the last thing registering is the warmth of his body next to mine and the security of his arm around my shoulders. I feel safe, and that safety is the sweetest thing I've felt since before my world fell apart.
Dreams come eventually, fragmented and disjointed, but they're not nightmares. They're just images of moving forward, of finishing what we started, of standing in front of Captain JasonBryan with proof of everything he's done and watching his carefully constructed world crumble around him.
When waking hours later, the room is dark and Jace is still there, breathing deeply and evenly in actual sleep now rather than just keeping watch. His arm is still around me and my head is still on his chest, and the position that should feel strange instead feels exactly right.
9
JACE
Morning light wakes me, and the first thing registering when consciousness returns is the weight of Sabine's body against mine. Her head rests on my chest with her hair spilled across my arm, and her breathing is deep and even in sleep. She finally looks peaceful after the breakdown last night. My arm is still around her shoulders where it's been for hours, and I don't want to move a muscle.
Something about lying here with her just feels right. I'm not one to show a lot of affection or be sappy, but she was clearly hurting so badly last night and it was the right thing to do to comfort her. Now, the thought of moving away from her has nothing to do with whether it wakes or disturbs her. I want to stay here for me, because she's bringing me as much comfort and grounding as I know I bring her.
Her alarm clock blinks seven forty-three a.m. I slept in her bed the whole night, which is a first for me. Holding a woman all night long never happens. Either I leave or they do the walk of shame before I wake, but never this. And we didn't even have sex, which is even more insane. I'm not a womanizer, but theidea of taking a woman to bed without even touching her has never crossed my mind.
But I felt so protective over her as I watched her hit that scumbag. When he fell to his knees, I kicked him, but most of the abuse he endured before I put that bullet in his head was at her hands. Such rage, such pain erupted out of her, and no doubt, that suck fuck deserved what she gave him. It was the least he deserved—he helped cover up the murder of innocent people and Sabine's rape. And the whole time, I had to restrain myself because I'd have given him worse.
That bullet was mercy.
