In me.
Chapter 15
Jase
The thought that someone hurt her was excruciating. Adding the knowledge that it was at the hands of my own father was utterly unbearable. No one should know that kind of physical violation, especially not someone like Charlie.
It was a real physical pain, and it sliced me up the middle, making me stagger back. And through this all, she watched my reaction, and I knew I had just made everything worse.
Without thinking, I devoured the small space between us and reached out for her. I cursed under my breath at the way she tensed when I touched her. Those big green eyes looked up at me, and all the hate and rage fell to the wayside, shoved somewhere in the background for a moment, because that beautiful woman should never see an ounce of bad again. Never feel fear again.
Her breathing completely stopped when I wrapped my arms around her and gathered her into my chest. She shuddered in a small hiccup of a gasp, stiffened in my hold, and frantically wiped her eyes and cheeks free of tears.
"You were never supposed to figure it out," she whispered, leaning her head against my shoulder and sniffling. "Now all you see is a victim. You can't seemeanymore."
I carried her into the bedroom.Damn it, the place was a mess. I knew what she meant about seeing her as a victim. I understood completely, and I didn't want to say anything to mess up this situation any more than it already was. Silently, I pulled back the covers of my bed and laid her down.
"I have a big T-shirt to wear if you want to change. Get comfortable," I offered, quickly rummaging through my drawers. I handed her the shirt and turned my back to give her privacy, even though it just about killed me to allow her to think I wouldn't want to watch. But, now was not the time.
I heard the material shifting and folding. She still sniffled a few times before she whispered, "Okay. I'm decent."
I couldn't tell if she was though, since she'd tucked herself into my bed with the covers up to her chin.
It was the most gorgeous sight I'd ever seen.
I could remember the nights I sat and watched her as she slept in her tree house. I'd stay up until sunrise, tracing my fingers along her skin. I had never loved anyone the way I loved her and at that moment, I couldn’t do anything but have incredible awe and admiration for the courage this woman before me had to go through—all she did alone.
"I’ve been in love with you since I looked up and saw the nine-year-old you standing next to Joey, and I flipped you the finger. I've been in love with you through everything and everyone I have ever spent my life with." I shook my head and sighed, "It was always you. Always. There is nothing you can tell me that will make me look at you as anything other than my Charlie."
A look of terror flashed in her red-rimmed eyes. She was exhausted and scared. I needed to give her some time to process me knowing her secret.And I had to make sure it was true.
"That call I got before...I have to go into work," I said.
"But you didn't sleep."
"I'm a cop; we don't sleep. Not when we can stop the bad guys," I smirked.
I backed away from the bed and tried to give her a comforting smile. "Sleep for a while. You're exhausted. I'll be back in a few."
She nodded her head and was out cold before I reached the bedroom door. A few soft sniffled hiccups slipped through her body.
I hated to leave her. But, I needed to make sure. I needed to make sure I wasn't going into this blind. I've been on the job for too long; I didn't trust anyone. The last person I trusted was Charlie, and before this, I hadn't seen her for seven years.
Walking into my kitchen, I pulled out my phone and found the contact for the lab. It rang four times before someone picked up.
"City of New York Crime Lab," a male voice greeted.
"Hey, how are you doing? This is Detective Jase Delaney, from OCCB narcotics. I need to get a hold of an original case file of a sexual assault that happened a few years ago. The suspect's name was Anthony Delaney."
The douche had me on hold for way too long, and by the time he got back on, I was halfway there already. My hands slammed down on the dash and my fists smashed into the steering wheel at every light. If I only thought to get into the file as soon as I got on the job, I would have known all this time. Butif onlysnever help anything, they just drive you insane.
At seventeen, as soon as I'd heard the accusations against my father, I knew he was guilty as Hell. He had dragged me screaming away from Charlie and deposited me in Ivy Ridge, anacademyfor troubled teens housed in the remote Adirondack Mountains. My eighteenth birthday came, and when I still couldn't get in contact with Charlie, I enlisted.
They had evidence of the assault from some interview with the doctor that was in the hospital the night of the attack. My father killed himself just before the authorities got to question him. I was away at boot camp. I didn't even attend his funeral. I didn't care to. In my rulebook, rapists didn't deserve to be cried over, remembered, or mourned. He could rot in Hell for all I cared.
My stomach wrenched, thinking I might actually see physical evidence of the incident in the file I was racing toward, blowing stop sign after stop sign. Collecting evidence for a rape kit was such an invasive process. How the hell did she do it? How did she get through it all alone and only seventeen years old?
Jamaica Avenue was an absolute disaster to drive through. The morning rush of people heading out to work or school had me cursing all the way to the front door of the lab and slamming it open with a thunderous crash.
