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He lets out an exasperated sound. “When you defend him… that’s hard for me, Jenna. It made it easier to tell myself you were on his side. I hurt, and it made me want to hurt you.”
“Well, you did. Good job.”
“I don’t want that anymore, Jenna. When Ronan hit you tonight, I lost my mind." His voice roughens. "In that moment, I didn't care about revenge or justice. I just needed to keep you safe. That's when I knew I couldn't deny it anymore."
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I hate that he can see it. I don’t want him to think there will ever be a chance for me to trust him again. "Deny what?"
"That somewhere between plotting revenge and falling into your arms, you became more important than my hatred. I love you, Jenna."
I jump up from the bed, wanting to hit him. Instead, I push him. “Don’t you dare. You said you loved me under the tree, and like a dummy, I believed it. But I won’t believe you anymore.”
His hands fall to his sides. "I know I hurt you?—”
"Hurt me?" A bitter laugh escapes. "You made me fall in love with you. You had sex with me with the sole purpose of humiliating me. Of breaking me.”
He looks stricken, as if he realizes just how heinous his actions have been. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"That doesn't make it better. You used me to hurt me?—”
"At first, yes." He reaches for me again, but I slap his hand away. "But things changed?—”
"When? When exactly did they change? Was it before or after you took my virginity? Before or after you told me you loved me? Before or after I gave everything I am to you?”
His face twists with guilt.
But before he can say anything more, I cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want explanations or apologies or declarations of love. I just want you to leave me alone."
“What about the baby?”
"A baby created out of your sick plot for revenge. I'll handle this on my own. I don't need you pretending to care about me or this baby out of some misplaced sense of duty."
"It's not duty?—”
"I want you out of my life." My words hang in the air between us, sharp and final. The hurt that flashes across Blaise's face tries to create doubt, but I force myself to hold firm. I've been naive enough for one lifetime.
"Okay." He retreats away from me. "You'll never have to see me again after tonight. I'll make sure you and your mother are set up somewhere safe, far from Boston."
He pulls a burner phone from his pocket and holds it out. "This is encrypted. You can use it to contact your mother through Flint while she's in the hospital. Once she's strong enough to move, we'll arrange everything."
I take the phone, careful not to let our hands touch. "Thank you."
"I know you don't want to hear this, but I am sorry, Jenna." His shoulders slump. "For everything. You deserved better than being caught in the middle of my revenge."
I turn away, unable to look at him anymore. "Just go."
The door clicks shut behind him, and I sink onto the bed. I want to weep. I want to scream in frustration. Instead, I dial the number to my mom’s hospital room.
“Yeah.” A male answers.
“It’s Jenna Hart. Can I talk to my mom?” My voice has no affect. It’s like I’m completely gone.
"Hold on," he says, and there's rustling before Mom's weak voice comes through.
"Baby girl? Are you okay?"
The sound of her breaks something inside me. "Mom… Everything's fallen apart. The Keans… they're not who we thought. They killed the Ifrinns. And Blaise, he's one of them. An Ifrinn son."
"I know, sweetheart. Flint told me everything." Her breath wheezes slightly. "How are you holding up?"