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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Margot

“Thank you for listening to all of that.” Jigsaw forces a tight smile. “And still saying you love me.”

His tone’s light. Like he doesn’t actually believe it. How could he think he failed anyone when he did more for his sister, brother, and even his father’s victims than any other person would?

He thinks I’m some sort of saint for loving him? He couldn’t be more wrong.

How do I say this, so he understands and absorbs my words?

“Of course, I still love you. How could I not?” I reach for his hand, curling my fingers lightly around his. “You seem to have mistakenly placed me on a pedestal.”

“That’s because you’re perfect,” he says, dragging his gaze over my face.

“No, I’m not.” I squeeze his hand gently, urging him to listen to me. “Jensen, please take a breath. Quiet your mind?—”

“I don’t think mediation is the answer right now.” He lets out a humorless laugh.

I tilt my head and give him my sternest stare. “Your cute quips aren’t needed right now. I want you to actually hear what I’m saying, not sit there churning up excuses to give me when I’m finished speaking.”

He closes his eyes and draws in a long breath, then slowly exhales like he’s forcing himself to shut out everything else.

“Thank you.” I place my hand over his. “I love you. You have more courage than anyone I’ve ever known?—”

“Make no mistake, Margot. I went back for my sister. But I went back for revenge too. I was planning to kill him whether I found him hurting Jezzie or not.” He swallows hard. “He was a dead man.”

“And you should know that I understand that better than anyone. However.” I take a breath. “If you make a mistake, I have no problem telling you so?—”

“So you admit I made a mistake?” A spark of vindication lights his eyes.

“No.” I squeeze his earlobe and gently tug. “List-en-ing, remember?”

He snaps his mouth shut. Probably a rare occurrence.

I wait a beat to see if he’ll remain quiet.

“Even if you make a mistake, I’ll still love you. I love you so much that I’ll tell you you’ve made a mistake, and I’ll try to help you fix it.”

He swallows hard and slowly nods.

“But I meant what I said,” I continue before he jumps in again. “I don’t think the way you handled things when you were a teenager was a mistake. I think what you did was compassionate and empathetic.”

“How?” His eyes widen in disbelief. “How can you say that?”

“Oh, buddy.” I let out a weary laugh. “Buckle up because I have a list of reasons for you.” I hold up my hand, curling it into a fist and stick out my thumb. “One, you could’ve not gone back for your sister at all. It sounds like you had a good life with Rooster’s family.”

He opens his mouth—probably to object—but I quickly cut him off with a headshake.

“I know things were hard there too. His aunt and uncle sound like they were good people who died way too young. But in the middle of your grief, you still made your sister a priority. You rescued her . It sounds like you saved her life. Or saved her from a traumatic injury.”

His eyes shine and he closes them, slowly turning his head away.

I won’t let him sink into those dark memories. “Stay with me.” I squeeze his hand.

He nods but still doesn’t look at me.

“You could’ve just grabbed Jezzie and run,” I say. “That would’ve been the easiest thing. But you didn’t.”

His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.

“You could’ve killed your father and left everyone else to rot—but you didn’t. Even though someone might’ve seen you, might’ve turned you in… you didn’t hurt anyone else.”

I keep my voice steady. “You could’ve taken the money and vanished. But instead, you tried to do right by the people your father hurt. You tried to restore his victims in the best way you could.”

The enormity of what he actually did catches in my throat. “Your actions were thoughtful and kind at an age where most men only care about getting laid and partying.”

He meets my stare head-on. “I did plenty of that afterward. I’m not a hero, Margot.”

How cute, he thinks he can scare me away with his playboy past. As if I didn’t already know. “You’re a brother. A good friend. And the best boyfriend.”

“Such a great boyfriend that I took a joyride to Maine instead of telling you what a fuckup I am?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Your communication skills need improvement.” My lips curve into a teasing smile. “But I’m willing to work with you.”

He slides his hands over my hips, holding me in place. “You’re like this shining light for me. All goodness and warmth. I want to bask in that and keep you away, far away, from the bad things in my life.”

“Jensen.” I use the most patient, authoritative tone I can muster.

“I live in a funeral home. I’ve been surrounded by death and darkness from birth.

It’s twisted me in ways you already know.

” I cup his face, staring into his questioning eyes.

“I love you. And I accept all of you. Not just the fun parts.”

“Thank you,” he rasps.

“But don’t do this to me again,” I add with a harsher bite to my tone than I intended. “The days of silence. Worrying about you. Not knowing where we stand.” My throat tightens. “It was humiliating asking Wrath if you were okay. And I felt like an idiot texting Shelby.”

“But you did it.”

I can’t tell if that’s pride or disbelief in his voice.

“Yes. I swallowed my pride and asked because I love you.”

The cobwebs of the past entangling him seem to snap. He leans forward and takes my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to having someone worry about me.”

“I’m not saying I want to stalk your every move. But you left here abruptly, then nothing. I was worried.”

“I know. I won’t do it again.” He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Will he be able to keep his promise?

Who knows.

I can’t keep raking guilt over him. He’s carrying enough.

I take a breath and gently shift the conversation. “When do I get to meet Cain?”

He sits back, a frown creasing his forehead. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust him.”

I plant my hand on my hip. “He’s a kid.”

“So? I just told you what a shitty thing I did to him and his mom.” He holds up his hand as if he wants to preemptively cut off any argument. “What you said made me look at the situation differently, but that doesn’t mean he sees it that way.”

“What did he say when you met with him?”

“Not much. He wants to see Jezzie. I told him she’s busy with school right now.”

“Jensen.” I fail at keeping the scolding tone from my voice.

“You don’t get it.” His voice lowers. “Jezzie was furious with me for years.” He swallows hard and glances away. “When I took her away from the farm, she assumed she was coming to live with me.”

My stomach sinks. “Oh no.”

“She didn’t remember our aunt. She was only a baby when we moved out west. I had some money, but I didn’t know how to raise a teenage girl and I didn’t have a stable living situation for her.”

“Understandable.” It’s not even remotely the same thing, but as someone who lost her mother young, if my brothers had tried to raise me, that would’ve been a disaster.

“When we got to my aunt’s and Jezzie realized?—”

“No! You drove all that way and never explained it to her?”

His eyes narrow. “No, Margot. I didn’t know how.” His expression softens. “Besides, I told myself if Angela seemed off, or if anything felt wrong, I’d figure out a way to keep Jezzie with me.”

Well, that’s something. I blow out a breath. “But their reunion went well?”

“Oh yeah. They got along great. Angela set up a really nice room for Jezzie. She never married or had kids. But she actually seemed excited to have her. She was my mom’s older sister, and it hurt her when my mom cut off contact.

So she welcomed Jezzie into her home. Me, not so much.

” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I think I reminded her too much of my dad or something.”

“That’s unfair. Did she know what happened?”

“I never told her. But I’m sure she guessed.”

I nod slowly. “And Jezzie? She was happy?”

“Oh yeah. Loved it at first. Angela took her shopping for normal clothes—stuff she’d never had before.

She was excited.” His jaw tightens. “But when it was time for me to leave, she lost it. Screamed, cried. Wouldn’t speak to me for months.

Angela kept me updated, but it took a long time for Jezzie to come around. ”

“She probably felt abandoned,” I say gently. “Even if it was the best choice.”

“Yeah. She thawed eventually. When I finally moved to the East Coast, I was closer, so I visited more often but as you’ve witnessed, things are still tense sometimes.”

“It had to be hard to stay mad at you for leaving her someplace she was happy.”

He shrugs. “That’s one way to look at it, yeah. But as prickly as she can be, Jezzie’s sensitive. She doesn’t like hurting people’s feelings. Well, except mine.”

I elbow him lightly. “Maybe stop being so stoic and let her know you have feelings.”

A slight smirk tilts his lips. “Sure, that’s an option.”

“Does your aunt know about Cain?”

“Good question. I don’t know if Jezzie ever mentioned him to Angela or not.”

“Do you think Jezzie wants to see him?”

“She rarely mentions him. I’m the one who brought him up last time I saw her.”

I bite my lip, unsure I should offer my opinion. “I feel bad for Cain. He has no family.” And no one seems to care about him at all.

He exhales a long breath, like the weight of that landed hard. “I know. I told you I’m a piece of shit.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t protect Jezzie back then. You were right about what my father did to her—he could’ve killed her, or left her with brain damage. I should’ve been there sooner. That’s why I have to know Cain’s not a threat before I let them near each other again.”

I understand that. I love him for it.

But several doubts keep circling in the back of my mind.

What if Jezzie doesn’t want to see Cain? What if Jigsaw decides he doesn’t want a relationship with him at all? The only brotherhood he seems to need is his club.

Cain came all this way.

Looking for a family that might end up rejecting him.

Again.