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Her eyes widened. “I told you I can handle it.”

“And I’ve stepped aside for the most part and watched you ‘handle’ it the entire time I’ve been here.” He shoved the bag down and pushed the gun in the small of his back. “I’m not handling it, Autumn. I’m ending it. There’s a difference.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Too late.” Jackson moved past her and she grabbed his arm again. This time he stopped. They stared at each other, both refusing to give an inch.

“Jackson,” she pleaded, hoping he’d back down.

“I love you.” He moved toward her and leaned down to kiss her. “But please, just for once, listen to me. I don’t need to worry about you, okay? Just stay here with your father and play card games or watch movies.”

“Jackson—”

“Don’t wait up.”