Then the pounding of his footsteps gets faster, echoing through the night as he tries to catch up with me. I’m quicker and make it to the car first.
Perks of having sky-high legs.
I’m not dealing with this in public. I have a reputation to uphold in this city, and I’ve always tried to keep my private life just that.
Private.
Jackson jumps in behind me and slams the door. Not sure what he has to be mad about when I’m the one who had to get out of bed to come here.
Even though I was up already, he doesn’t need to know that.
“Fuck,” he mutters, realizing who’s driving. “Why couldn’t you just pick me up in a taxi?”
“Jackson Peters,” I grit, so angry I could scream, but keep my voice down so I don’t make a scene in front of John. “You’re lucky I even came at all. You should be thanking John for having your back and always bailing you out.”
“John, I appreciate it, but you can’t tell my sister. Sadie will kill me this time since I promised no more fights.”
John’s eyes flicker to me in the rearview mirror, then back to Jackson, “This is the last time, Jackson. I won’t tell your sister, and not because you asked me, but because I don’t want her to be any more stressed than she has been recently. You’re almost forty years old. Grow the hell up.”
Jackson flinches, likely knowing John’s right.
On both accounts.
Sadie’s been overly stressed lately with finalizing the last-minute details of her Paris wedding.
On top of that, her dad has tried to reach out, and with them being estranged for many years, it’s not been easy. Though if he’s trying to contact her, I’m more worried that it might mean her mum could reach out next, ruining all the progress Sadie’s made to heal and build herself up over the years. Jackson and Sadie’s mother is the Wicked Witch of The West and an abusive fucking cunt.
I’ve never hated someone more in my life.
From my peripheral vision, Jackson nods his head to John. I can see he’s clearly embarrassed, even through the darkness of the car.
Which doesn’t surprise me. This isn’t Jackson.
I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I’ve repeatedly told him that he needs to calm down. The first time he laid a hand on someone was a couple of years ago when he punched Wills—his future brother-in-law—which is a story for another time. But other than that… he doesn’t fight people.
He’s similar to his sister in that respect.
Somehow even with fucked-up parents, they both think with their hearts, and despite his boyish charm and good looks, Jackson is sensitive and always means well.
He may go about it the wrong way at times, but I know who he truly is deep down, which is what makes this hard.
“Belle,” he mumbles. “You know I hate when you’re mad at me. If you knew what he was saying this time. He—”
“No.” I take a breath to prepare myself. Did I mention his fights are to defend my honor when my toxic, wanker ex runs his mouth? Let’s face it, what girl wouldn’t swoon over that?
Still though, it upsets me, because he turns into someone I don’t know.Someone I don’t like.“Don’t even go there. I’ve told you time and time again that I don’t care what that lying, cheating, piece of shit ex of mine has to say about me, and neither should you. He’s a loser cokehead and can say whatever he wants because I won’t let his words get to me anymore.”
I’ve done it for too long.
I pride myself on being a strong, independent woman, and I let that arsehole get to me for too long.
I’m done.
Jack turns his body toward me and takes my hand. “I’m proud of you for that, but the words still get to me, and as one of your best friends and husband—”
“Shh!” My eyes bug out. Is he kidding me right now?
I raise the partition so John can’t hear Mister Big Mouth.
