“But you didn’t say it.”
Anger remained in Jackson’s voice. Ryn flinched. Old habits.
“I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
She blinked out more tears. “Everything. You don’t understand. I lived like a prisoner in my own home for so many years. I couldn’t get up from the table without permission. My hair, my weight, my clothes, my exercise routine, my friends … they were all controlled by Preston. His verbal abuse did so much more damage than the physical abuse. I became anorexic, stopped having my periods, and eventually ended up in the hospital because I kept having fainting spells.”
After all those years the pain felt as raw as the day it happened. “Preston had to come home from a business trip to ‘deal’ with me. They discharged me two days later, and he bashed my head into the dash before we left the parking lot. He said that’s what I deserved for ruining his trip.” She shook her head. “He bled every ounce of self-esteem from me. I don’t want to be this way. I hate that I don’t have a shred of confidence. Inside … I have so much anger, so much hatred, but the fear is so crippling I can’t do anything with it, so it just festers and eats me alive.”
*
Holding Ryn was like holding an egg with a dozen cracks. Jackson knew he could never completely mend her. He could give her the self-defense skills to fight off a small army, but he couldn’t make her use them any more than she could give Gunner the go ahead to attack her enemy.
Brushing his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks, he smiled. “So Vera Wang and Ed Sheeran?”
Her laugh came out as a half sob. “Don’t … you can’t possibly still want—”
“You. I want you, Ryn. I know you’ve lost so much of yourself … maybe so much that you don’t know where you belong in this cruel world. But I do. You belong with me.”
“My God, that was …”
“A better line than swimming in your pond?”
Ryn laughed. Jackson smiled back at the forty-year-old with freckles and innocent blue eyes. She was truly beautiful in every way. He knew he would destroy anyone who ever tried to take that smile away again.
“Jackson Knight, I’d marry you in a paper bag, with a boom box playing Boyz II Men.”
“What’s a boom box and Boyz to who?”
She grabbed his hair, yanking his head an inch away from hers. “Knock that shit off.”
Perfect. The woman who feared everything, dominated the heart of a killer. What were the chances?
Jackson surrendered the final inch, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he whispered.
Her hands released his hair and slid to his cheeks.
“I didn’t understand, but now I do. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
“What you said to Preston … you wouldn’t really kill him, would you?”
They danced around his past, giving him ample opportunities to tell her everything. Telling her would break the rules—G.A.I.L’s rules. Members weren’t allowed to share that information unless they were married. It was ridiculous. What kind of wedding gift was that? A marriage certificate didn’t buy the kind of loyalty and trust required to keep G.A.I.L hidden. Yet, somehow they’d managed to keep everyone silenced for years. Jackson knew their tactics were rarely worthy of “Guardian Angel” status.
“Ryn …” he whispered.
“Tell me. Would you kill him?”
“Yes.”
Jerking back, her gaze bored into his, searching for truth. For the first time in his life, he wanted someone—Ryn—to see that truth.
Yes. The ultimate truth. A drop-all-weapons-hands-up surrender to only the second woman in his life for whom he would lie down and die for.
She swallowed hard, choking on that one little word. Jackson didn’t blink. He kept his eyes trained to hers because in spite of the number of lives his hands had taken … he didn’t regret one.
He knew her next question before it passed her lips.
“Aside from AJ … have you ever killed anyone?”
As sure as he knew her question, the intensity in her eyes said she knew his answer.
“Yes.”
Did she see him? Really see him?
Her eyes closed. Jackson said nothing. All he could do was wait for her to open them again and pray they’d look at him the same. Love him the same. Accept him … accept Jude.
“I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. “I-I can’t handle it.”
“Ryn?”
Fluttering open, her eyes focused on his chin, his chest, his arms … but she didn’t look him in the eye. “The answer is yes. I fear it will always be yes.”
What was the question?
When those blue eyes met his again, he couldn’t read them. Was the sparkle in them the beginning of unshed tears or the light of life drawing him from the darkness?
“You want to know if I still love you.”
More than the secret to life.