I also told her of how my father hated us and my mother abandoned us, and then of how I abandoned Jax and left him with my father when he refused to leave with me.
Tate’s eyes got red and pooled with tears that she tried to hold back.
I released all of the sickness in my head and the crud that had blackened my heart, and I wanted to wipe away the tears that she cried for me.
She’d always cared. She’d always loved me.
I’d treated her worse than a dog for three years, and she still cried for me.
I felt the ache in my throat as I looked at her, her face twisted up in sadness, and I knew she had every right not to forgive me.
But I knew she would.
Maybe that’s the thing I’d been missing about love.
You don’t withhold it or partition it out when it’s deserved.
You can’t control it like that.
After I told her the ugly story, I sat there next to her, waiting for her to say something.
I didn’t know what she was thinking, but she let me speak, and she listened.
“Have you seen your dad since?” she finally asked.
Your dad. The words were so foreign. I referred to him as my father only to identify the twenty-two year old man that preyed on a seventeen year old girl, and I was the result.
“I saw him today,” I told her. “I see him every weekend.”
Which was true. Even though I technically didn’t get my last visit.
“What?” Her blue eyes went wide. “Why?
“Because life’s a bitch, that’s why.” I exhaled a bitter laugh.
After the punch I threw last week, the judge decided I’d fulfilled my commitment and let me off the hook today. I saw my father from a distance this morning, but I hadn’t seen the last of him. I knew that.
Tate looked at me, and drank in everything I said. I told her about the trouble after she left for France—how I missed her, how Jax got hit by his foster dad, and how the judge cut me a deal.
I got up and walked back over to the French doors, leaving her on the bed to absorb everything.
“So that’s where you go,” she finally said. “To Stateville Prison in Crest Hill.”
Crest Hill?
She must’ve seen other stuff in my room when she was snooping the last nightt. My mother had asked me to save receipts for the motels and gas for tax time. Shit was scattered all over my room.
“Yeah, every Saturday,” I said with a nod. “Today was my last visit, though.”
“Where is your brother now?”
Safe.
“He’s in Weston. Safe and sound with a good family. I’ve been seeing him on Sundays. But my mom and I are trying to get the state to agree to let him live with us. She’s been sober for a while. He’s almost seventeen, so it’s not like he’s a kid.”
I wanted him to meet her, and if my mother was successful with the lawyer, then he’d be living with us sooner rather than later.
She got off the bed and walked over to me by the French doors. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this years ago?” she asked. “I could’ve been there for you.”
I wish I’d let you.
That was still something I was going to have a hard time with. Tate holding me up—or trying to—made this room feel ten times too small.
Small steps, baby.
I combed my hand through my hair and leaned back on the railing. “When I finally got home that summer, you were my first thought. Well, other than doing what I could to help Jax,” I added. “I had to see you. My mom could go to hell. All I wanted was you. I loved you,” I whispered the last part, my stomach knotted with regret.
I tightened my fists, thinking back to that day when I’d changed everything. “I went to your house, but your grandma said you were out. She tried to get me to stay. I think she saw that I didn’t look right. But I ran off to find you, anyway. After a while, I found myself at the fish pond in the park.” I finally looked at her. “And there you were…with your dad and my mom, playing the little family.”
I understood the confusion in her eyes. Even now, I knew it was a sad series of small events that I took too much to heart. I was wrong.
“Jared—” she started, but I stopped her.
“Tate, you didn’t do anything wrong. I know that now. You just have to understand my mindset. I had been through hell. I was weak and hurting from the abuse. I was hungry. I’d been betrayed by the people I was supposed to be able to count on: my mom who didn’t help when I needed her, my dad who hurt me and my helpless brother.” I took a deep breath. “And then I saw you with our parents, looking like the happy, sweet family. While Jaxon and I were in pain and struggling to make it through every day in one piece, you got to see the mother that I never had. Your dad took you on picnics and for ice cream while mine was whipping me. I felt like no one wanted me and that life moved on without me. No one cared.”
That day and the weeks preceding were too much, too fast, and all of a sudden I was a different kid.
“You became a target, Tate. I hated my parents, I was worried about my brother, and I sure as hell couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. When I hated you, it made me feel better. A lot better.”
I saw her jaw harden, and I knew that this wasn’t easy for her to take in.
But I kept going.
“Even after I realized that nothing was your fault, I still couldn’t stop trying to hate you. It felt good, because I couldn’t hurt who I wanted to hurt.”
Silent tears fell down her face again, and—goddammit—I didn’t want Tate crying over me anymore.
We’d had a hell of a lot of good growing up, and I wanted it back.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking her face in my hands, hoping like hell she didn’t punch me. “I know I can make this up to you. Don’t hate me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t hate you. I mean…” she shot me a little scowl, “I’m a little pissed, but mostly I just hate the wasted time.”
Yes.
I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into me.
She was fucking mine. I wanted to scream and smile at the same time. I molded my forehead to hers, my lips hungry to taste her as I breathed her in.
“You said you loved me,” she whispered. “I hate that we lost that.”
Nothing was lost.
I lifted her up, guided her legs around me, and walked us to the bed, feeling the heat of her center on my stomach.
“We never lost that.” My hand was on her cheek, and I brought her eyes up to meet mine. “As much as I tried, I could never erase you from my heart. That’s why I was such an asshole and kept guys away from you. You were always mine.”
“Are you mine?” she asked, wiping her tears with her thumb.
Her shaky breath caressed my face, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. Lightly kissing the corner of her mouth, I whispered against her lips, “Always have been.”
She wrapped her arms around me, and I just held her, close and tight.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Are you?” I shot back, not deluding myself for a second that the last three years hadn’t been hell for her, too.
“I will be.”
If we had each other, we were going to be okay.
“I love you, Tate.”
And I fell back on the bed, bringing her with me, hopefully forever.
Chapter 31
“Jared, you’re poking me.” Tate’s sleepy whimper stirs me awake, and it takes me a few moments to open my eyes.