She shot upright and clutched her throat, gasping for air.
“Are you okay?” He held out both arms and stepped toward her.
She scurried back and hit the headboard.
“Fucking hell. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He trembled and fisted his hair. His chest rose and fell like a piston. “Marissa, answer me. Are you okay? Did I cut you?”
She pulled back her hand—no blood—and swallowed hard. “I-I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”
“It was a reflex. I didn’t mean to attack you. I didn’t know who you were. God, I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded as his rambling words sliced through the haze clouding her mind. The choppy air entering and leaving her lungs evened out as she rubbed the goosebumps from her arms.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I heard you moaning and thought you were in trouble. You shook and jerked as if you were in pain. I tried to wake you...” she trailed off as her throat tightened.
“And I grabbed you.” Jarrett scowled at the discarded knife and locked his hands behind his back. Shadows deepened the creases bracketing his mouth and the splotches under his eyes. “I’m sorry. I would never hurt you, not intentionally. I swear.”
She wrapped the blanket around her. Why hadn’t she dragged on a pair of pants? Her T-shirt and panties left little to the imagination, as did Jarrett’s snug underwear.
He grabbed his jeans from the floor and dressed. “May I sit with you?” After she nodded, he claimed the spot beside her and grasped her shaky hand. “Please tell me what to do. I can’t stand seeing fear in your eyes.”
“I-I’m just in shock,” she stuttered and pulled from his grip. “No one has ever jabbed a knife against my throat.” She had to breathe, think, calm down, but Jarrett’s sudden ferocity scared the hell out of her. Perhaps he was right? Was he someone she didn’t want to know? Damn it, no. Sheknewthis man. Despite the trouble he’d been in or whatever he had done, he was a decent person down deep. She would bet her life on it. But what about the life of her son? “Why did you attack me? What made you think you were threatened? You’re safe here.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I know I am. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Liar. A normal person doesn’t sleep with a blade under a pillow. Jason could have heard you and come in here. You could’ve put a knife to my son’s throat.”
His breathing sharpened. He braced his hands on his knees and stood.
She grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.
“Damn it.” He rubbed his squinty eyes. “I would’ve pulled back. That boy is precious. I wouldn’t hurt him for anything in the world. God, Marissa, he’s my nephew. I’d give my life for him.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Regardless, I love him.”
She released his arm. “You owe me the truth.”
“I can’t.” He hunched over. “My regrets and mistakes eat away at me. I crossed the wrong people.” He shifted closer and cupped her face with his hands.
The callouses on his palms abraded her skin, but his gentle touch soothed the pressure clutching her heart. What the hell was wrong with her? She should kick him out of the house and never speak to him again, but his misery checked her sharp tongue.
“I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, but I have to keep these secrets. I don’t want to endanger your life.”
Oh, God. Her chest ached. Those three little words—I love you—ripped through her, but his confession meant nothing without his trust. “Endanger me? What did you do? Tell me, please. I won’t judge you.”
“You would. Anyone would.”
“Don’t decide for me. It’s my choice to fear or hate you. It’s my choice whether I’m strong enough to accept what you tell me.” She pulled his hands from her face. “Why do you think so little of me? I can handle whatever you tell me.”
“I’m not so sure.”
She struck her fists against the mattress. “Goddamn it. Talking to you is like talking to a freaking tree. Why won’t you listen to me? I’m not your enemy.” She tossed aside the blanket, jumped from the bed, and stalked to the door. Warm air sliced across her bare legs. Who gave a damn about her lack of nightclothes? She flipped around. “You’re all alone, aren’t you? No true friends or girlfriend in San Francisco? You show up here and ask all about me, but you won’t tell me much about you.” She stiffened as he stared at something behind her. “Damn it, Jarrett. Look at me when I speak to you. Why are you here?”
He hung his head and sighed. “I missed you.” He stood and grabbed the rest of his discarded clothes to toss on the bed. “I shouldn’t have come back. It’s just another mistake on my list.” He pressed on the circular scar marring his shoulder before pulling on his long-sleeved jersey shirt. Then he stuffed his wrinkled clothes into his backpack.
