Page 18 of Bitter Truth
Walking behind him, I curl my hands over his shoulders and start kneading his muscles, surprised by how many knots I find. Though he tenses at my initial touch, by degrees, he relaxes until his rigid posture and the strained tendons along the sides of his neck are gone.
He leans back against me. Slips his hands over mine. Though I hate to undo all my hard work, now that he’s unwound a bit, I have to know.
“Is this about your mom?”
In an instant, the knots are back. His voice is equally tight as he says, “No.”
“It’s okay to be upset. You know that, don’t you? It doesn’t matter what she’s done. She’s still you’re family.”
“I’m not upset about Janine. She’s right where sheneeds to be.”
The way he says it suggests otherwise. Rounding his chair, I prop myself against the table in front of him. “Then what are you upset about?”
“Nothing.”
“Jake—”
“Seriously, Cassie. I’m not going to say something just because it’s what you want to hear. Sometimes I wish you’d just back off.”
My head reels back. He’s never spoken to me so sharply before. And though I know I’m overreacting, I can’t help it.
Tears sting my eyes. I blink rapidly, trying not to let them fall, but as he stands so abruptly that his chair tips over, I lose the battle. One slips over my lower lid and trickles down my skin until it falls off the cliff of my jaw.
His face crumples.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
His touch is soft as he cups a hand to my cheek. The kiss that follows is even softer. But almost before it starts, it’s over.
I catch his arm as he pulls away. “Stay.”
“I’ve got to get some sleep.”
My chest aches as he steps around the table. I feel like I’ve been gutted with a plastic spoon. A second tear escapes, then a third. The sound of his steps is fading. He’s almost left the room. If I’m going to do something, it needs to be soon.
“I’m sorry,” I say, voice breaking over the words.
He stops.
“For what?”
“For whatever I’ve done to make you so mad at me.”
“Cassie, I’m not mad at you.”
I give him a look over my shoulder that lets himknow I don’t believe him. Turn my head away as a fresh volley of tears begins to fall.
Then he’s standing in front of me again, though he’s so blurry I can’t see his expression. His thumbs gently dry under my eyes. “Please don’t cry.”
“Then don’t lie.”
“I’m not.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, holding me against his chest. His face nestles in my hair, muffling his voice as he says, “I’m not going to say that I don’t get annoyed by how reckless you can be, but it’s not you I’m angry with. It’s the guy who hit you today. The one who shot at you last night. And all the rest of the people lining up to try and hurt you. But mostly it’s with myself.”
“Why?” I ask, not understanding.
“Because I should be doing more to protect you. To keep you safe. And every time something like this happens, I feel like I’m failing.”
Shaking my head, I pull back until I can see him.
