Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” Max whispered.
Jersey remained statuesque in the corner of the room. She confessed to him something that was only meant for him to hear right before he died. But he didn’t die.
“Cancel the rest of the tour,” he said with no emotion to his voice.
“Ian—”
“Cancel it!” He shoved the phone back into her hand. Eyes pinched shut, jaw muscles flexing.
“Jeanine said the neighbors were out of town. Had he not been there—”
“We’re going home. Now.”
Max nodded slowly. It was a rare moment when she let her vulnerability surface—at a loss for words, at a loss for control.
“Jersey—” Max took a step toward her.
“I’ll tell her.” Ian interrupted Max again.
She backed up to the door, giving Jersey a sad smile before leaving them alone.
Whatever he watched on her screen should not have changed the course of their fate, but it did. Ian silenced Max and unarmed Jersey with a look, a tone, a new side she had not seen before. It made her feel like someone pummeling her into the ropes, the way Racer did to her so many years earlier.
After several minutes, Ian turned, meeting Jersey’s gaze. “My house is on fire.”
Jersey flinched. “Chris …”
“He’s fine. Saved my dogs. A real fucking hero on the news right now.”
Fire. The man who survived a horrific accident and lost everything but his actual heartbeat had to escape the jaws of twisted fate again.
Jersey despised the contempt on Ian’s face. Only a monster would show so much anger toward a hero. Ian’s life was spared, but only temporarily. Jersey knew what needed to be done. As soon as they returned to L.A., she planned on digging his grave amongst the rubble of his house.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Jersey: We’re on our way home. What happened?
She shot off a text to Chris on their way to the airport.
Chris: Gas explosion at the neighbor’s house. The wind carried the flames to Ian’s house. So tragic.
Jersey stared at his message, trying to decipher the meaning and the context of his words.
Jersey: Where are you?
Chris: Another neighbor’s house. The Blevins. I’m a hero at the moment. On every news channel. Saved the dogs. Called 9-1-1. Warned the other neighbors to evacuate. I’ve already had people offer to adopt me, feed me, house me. Better late than never, right?”
Jersey: He did it.
She stared at the three pulsing dots on the screen. Did Chris understand what she meant?
Chris: Not news to me. But I’m glad you’ve seen Jesus.
Jersey: ?
Chris: The truth. Why haven’t you done your thing?
Jersey: Because you had to be a hero.
Chris: Sorry. I didn’t think you’d grow a pair and do it.
Jersey: Fuck you.
Chris: Love you too. Have a safe trip.
Jersey: Do you?
Chris: ?
She stared at the screen, keeping it tipped away from Ian’s line of sight. Not that it mattered, he seemed content with ignoring her.
Jersey: Love me. If you got all of your memory back tomorrow, and you found out you have a life waiting for you, would you love me?
Chris: Absolutely. If you asked me to leave my imaginary wife and kids for you, I would do it in a heartbeat.
Swiping out of the message screen, she tucked the phone into her bag and tipped her head back, closing her eyes.
As soon as they were in the air, the flight attendant closed the curtain, giving Ian and Jersey privacy. Jersey leaned her seat back. Ian watched her from the wide sofa that doubled as a bed, the bed where they usually had sex.
“I’m not taking my clothes off for you.” She frowned, holding his unreadable gaze.
He blinked a few times, not looking like a man who cared if Jersey took her clothes off for him. “Finish telling me what you were going to say before Max interrupted us. On the record you said, ‘I think I could have loved you.’ There was a but coming. Finish it.”
“Not now,” she whispered, exhausted from a long day. Almost twenty hours without sleep.
“It has to be now.”
“I’ll finish it if you tell me how horrible the thing is you did.”
“Horrible enough to leave that life behind.” For the first time, she could see lines of regret on his face and hear it in his weak voice.
“Tell me.”
He closed his eyes and mumbled, “Not now.”
“Jesus …” Max frowned as they pulled into the driveway.
Half of Ian’s house looked charred. The other half seemed untouched. Chris traipsed through the front yard from the Blevins’s house with Ian’s dogs. Ian climbed out and greeted Lola and Foxy while Chris opened Jersey’s door.
She fell into his arms, her mind riddled with the events and revelations of the previous twenty-four hours. Ian glanced at her, looking like he could murder someone. Jersey didn’t care. His days of killing would soon come to an end, and so would hers.
“I missed you.” Chris squeezed her.
“Missed you too. I’m so glad you’re okay. You had to be freaking out. I mean …” She looked him over when he released her. “Did it trigger any emotions or memories?”