“I’m right here,” Hope whispers.
But Daisy’s voice is louder, louder, softer, louder, softer, every plea, every whimpered “no” like she knows it won’t do anything, it’s just something to fill the silence.
I’ve never known what he did to her. How he destroyed her. I’ve known some, just… not early enough. Not enough. I was never enough. Never good enough. Strong enough. Fast enough.
Goosebumps spread over my skin, making me shake. My throat tightens. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. I need to hurt something, need to rip into myself. I need to ruin anything and everything that could be a problem, but my body is jelly, can’t do a damn thing other than melt to the ground.
I grip a tree root so tightly it splinters in my hand while Knox, Dimitri, and Hope talk to one another. I don’t care what they’resaying. It doesn’t matter. I don’t recognize Daisy screaming like that, her pleading to make it stop, to be gentle, to stop. Tostop.
“I’m right here,” Hope whispers in my ear. “I’m not going anywhere, Jax. The guys are going to take a look. We’re staying here. You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re good. We’re going to be good.”
I’m panting, wheezing, and I clutch my chest.
I don’t know if it’s possible for me to believe in “good” anymore. Not when closing my eyes means imagining Daisy go through something I wasn’t there to protect her from. Not if opening my eyes meansnotseeing Daisy because she’s dead and her last moments were this terrible.
“There’s no good.” I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect anyone. I’m weak. Worthless.
“There is, even if you can only hear the worst right now,” Hope says.
I can’t. It should’ve been me; Daisy is supposed to be alive.
Then Hope takes my face between her hands, her palms covering my ears as she stares into my eyes. I hear my own heart thudding, my blood boiling in my veins. But there’s Hope. Her gorgeous blue eyes… like Daisy’s. So much like Daisy. Why couldn’t Daisy be stronger? Why couldn’tIbe stronger?
“It’s us, Jax,” she insists and opens her jacket, pulls down her shirt. “Us.”
My eyes dip to where our initials are carved into her flesh. I remember that night with her. How she cried, how she begged, when she tried to say no before just giving in, moaning, closing her eyes, and only opening them now and again.
“I deserve hell. I’m in hell. I deserve hell. Couldn’t help her. Broke you. Hell. Hell…” I breathe again and again.
Twenty-six
HOPE
Ihaven’t ever seen Jax like this. Not even when he told me about Daisy. He leaned on me, opened for me.
I stroke through his hair, while hoping the bush we’re hidden behind is enough to keep us safe for the time being. I can’t lean too much on it considering half the leaves are gone, but I can watch the light flickering in the cabin as it plays through the windows.
I close my eyes and fold myself over Jax. Before he tries to push me away from him, I tilt his head up and kiss him. I don’t know what else to do. He starts to pull away, but I grab his hand when he pushes on my chest and put it over the mark they gave me. The mark Daisy never had.
Because I’m me, not her. “Listen to me, Jax. I need you. I’m yours to protect. I need you to be that man now. The one who will burn the world down for me, who will slaughter, who will defend. And I won’t leave your side.”
“I can’t,” he whimpers. “I just fail. I failed you so many times. I failed her. I fail again and again. My back—”
“Is okay,” I say softly. “It is. You’remy Jaxon. Good enough to protect me, good enough to protectusand everything we’ve built.You’regood enough.”
He stares at me for a long time, his eyes watery, almost glassy, but suddenly he yanks me forward. I don’t know if he’s going to kiss me, to hurt me, but I squeeze my eyes shut because as much as I want him to ignore Daisy’s screams, it’s almost impossible to do when it’s soloud. Always getting louder. Like it’s clawing into our minds.
I try to squeeze Jax but realize that I’m holding onto his shirt, that my head is against his sharp shoulder blade. I’m still on my knees. I crack one eye open, then another to find a flashlight beaming down on us, too intense for us to see anything… other than the gun.
“Knew you’d come back. It only works if you come back. All of you. Even her,” Gauge snarks.
The barrel of the gun trains on me, but Jaxon moves, hiding me from it.
It won’t make a difference. I know enough that bullets travel through bodies more often than not and they don’t stop. They can rip through two people.
“Jaxon,” I whisper.
“I warned you, Hope. I told you to untangle yourself, but you didn’t listen. It’s like youwantto be hurt. Just like Daisy did. She was aching for agony just to feel alive. It becomes an addiction. The only way you can tell you’re alive is by seeing what you can survive and hating every second of it. Because trauma is better than apathy, right?” Gauge continues.
