Maddox put a big beefy hand to my shoulder a while after and told me he was going to call Mack. I tried to protest, and mid-way through his phone rang, and it was Mack, so my protests were cut short. That’s when I turned to the wall and refused to take my eyes off it. I don’t want Mack here. What’s the point? He’s made it clear we’re done. I think it’s time I make that possible.
The very idea of leaving Diesel has my heart twisting in an ugly way. That baby has become important to me, super important. I would even go as far as saying I love him, and that terrifies me. At the same time, I can’t allow my heart to get broken when Mack breaks it, and he will—it’s just in his nature. It’s not that Mack doesn’t know how to love, because he does. It’s simply that he doesn’t want to.
Sometimes, I think that’s worse.
I hear his bike pull up, and I keep my eyes to the wall. I can’t remove the images from my head, I can’t stop seeing that letter, and I can’t stop processing how it all made me feel. I press my lips together, keep my eyes wide, and pull back any emotion trying to shove forth. I can’t let Mack see it. Instead, I need to keep it together until I can end this finally. That means I’ll have to find a way to pay him back, but I will.
The door opens, and I listen as Maddox greets Mack.
“She been like that long?” Mack asks.
“Yeah.”
Normally, I’d be the first to yell “I’m in the room!” but right now I just don’t care.
“Fuck.”
Now he feels sorry for me. That’s not what I want.
“Diesel?” he asks next.
“He’s fine, sleepin’.”
There’s silence.
“Jaylah?” he says, breaking the quiet and walking closer to me.
I stand, not facing him. “We have to talk.”
He doesn’t answer, and when I turn he’s staring at me, and God, his brown eyes are killing me.
“Outside,” he murmurs.
I nod, and follow him out.
We step out onto the back porch and I turn to him. I keep my face blank as I begin speaking.
“I can’t be in Benito’s way anymore. I’ve decided it’s time I leave—”
“Jaylah—”
“Because there’s no way I can keep feeling like this. I did nothing wrong, and—”
“Jaylah—” He tries again.
“It’s not fair,” I continue, speaking as if he’s not trying. “It’s not fair that I should be the target of someone after you because of your ex-girlfriend—”
“Fuck, Jayl—”
“It’s certainly not fair that I should be your sex toy.” My voice breaks but I keep going on. “I know I owe you money, and I promise you I’ll pay it back but I can’t—”
“Listen to me—”
“Keep going on like this. I’m a person. I have feelings, too. I know that doesn’t matter to you. Nothing does. You fuck and let them go, but it matters to me. I care about you, for whatever stupid fucking reason, but there’s only so much I can take, and—”
“Jaylah!” he roars.
I close my eyes and tears leak out and run down my face. I keep talking.
“I hate that I care about you. I hate that he keeps telling me I’ll never be her. I hate that I know that. I hate that I love your son like he’s my own. I hate that he’s after me, and I’m fucking scared. I hate that no matter how much I try, walking away from you is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because—”
“Enough,” he rasps.
He doesn’t let me finish. His fingers go up and curl into my hair, and he jerks my head forward, capturing my lips in his and kissing me so hard he takes my breath away. He kisses me like I matter; like there’s a small piece of him that thinks I could be his new Ingrid. That I could make him happy, make him laugh, make him smile.
“Mack,” I whisper through my tears and his lips, which are still roaming mine, his tongue sliding out to touch my bottom lip.
“Fucked up,” he groans, running his mouth down my jaw.
“Mack, please.”
“So fuckin’ beautiful.”
“Mack.”
“Not Ingrid,” he says, and my body flinches. I go to shove him back, but he holds me firm, and murmurs, “Better.”
Better.
My knees wobble, but he keeps going.
“She was sweet. You’re sassy. I like sassy. Sassy makes me want to wake up.”
Oh, God.
“She was beautiful. You’re stunning. I like stunning. Stunning makes me want to kiss every inch of you.”
I’m going to lose it.
“She was perfect. You’re not. I don’t like perfection. Perfection is a lie.”
My body starts trembling.
“She loved me, but she was too scared to tell me how it was. You’re not. That makes me want to fuckin’ keep you.”
I’m sobbing now, and I don’t care.
“But most of all . . . she didn’t fight for me. You do. You fight for me, you fight for my son, and you fight for those you love. That’s what makes you better.”
I hiccup and clutch his shirt.
“I’m not good at this. Fuck knows, I’m really bad, but I’m goin’ to try, because you’re the first girl since her that’s made my heart come to life. Only with you, I know what I’m gettin’. You’re real, you’re beautiful and you’re exactly what I need. Does that mean I didn’t love her? No. I did. With every piece of my heart, but that was then . . .”