Page 25

TWENTY-FOUR

JACK

NOVEMBER

Red. Everywhere.

Ringing in my ears. Feeling very far away from the scene before me, like I was outside myself. Panic. Rage. Nausea. Fury.

They were hurting Mara, and someone had to pay. There were two women nurses and one big guy, so I went for him. I had the sense enough not to fight a woman, and though I’m small, I’m feisty. I could take the big guy.

My hands gripped his shoulders, his locked onto mine, and we grappled. I poured every ounce of my core strength into trying to force him to the floor. In the background, I faintly registered Mara shouting, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another nurse looking ready to step in and take me down too.

Then Mara’s voice cut through more clearly, “Jack, please!”

My rage bubble popped, and I stopped fighting the guy. Now with the upper hand, he pinned me to the wall.

“You done?” he demanded in my face.

I looked over his shoulder to Mara’s worried, puffy face. “Mara.”

“Please let him go,” she whimpered, and the man released his grip on my shoulders.

“You can’t act like that here,” he said. He went on, something about grief and difficult time, but I just wrenched past him to sit on Mara’s bed.

I took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.

“He has to leave,” her nurse insisted.

“Please, I just need a few minutes with him,” Mara said.

Her nurse said something about the ice packs and bracelet, and then the room cleared out. I chewed on my bottom lip, not sure what to say for myself. I was embarrassed. Mara was the one in trouble, and she was comforting me. “I’m okay, Jack. They’re taking good care of me.”

My jaw was almost chattering, coming down from the adrenaline. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Mara gave me a sympathetic smile and squeezed my hand. “It’s how I look right now.” She examined me, and I feared what she’d see. “You’re shaking.”

She looked better than she had when she almost passed out on me, but she was still obviously not well. I was shaken up by all of it, and all I wanted was for her to be okay. “You scared me yesterday. Hearing you struggle to breathe . . .”

Mara’s eyes cast down. “I’m lucky you showed up when you did.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone after that. What if it happened again and I wasn’t around?”

She gnawed her bottom lip. “I could have knocked on my neighbor’s door.”

I planted her with a look. “Mara, there are a lot of what ifs in there that I don’t like the answer to.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, scared to even think of what might have happened if I hadn’t made it to her in time. “I’m glad you called me. You can always call me.”

I looked down at her hand in mine. It looked so small and fragile against my inked-up hand, but I didn’t want to pull away. She barely touched me when we did sexual stuff, and that was torture, so what did it mean when she touched me in not sexy times? “I know. I appreciate that. You can call me too.”

I brushed my thumb over the IV in her hand. “Does this hurt?”

“I’m okay, Jack.”

“But does it hurt?” I repeated.

I could tell she was getting tired. She blinked slowly. “It’s sore, yeah.”

I could have chosen to be a tough guy. I could have chosen to act like this didn’t affect me. But I hated it. I felt protective of her before this happened, and now that sentiment was times fifteen and plus a hundred. “I don’t want anything to hurt you.”

She smirked, her lips still swollen from either the meds or the reaction itself. “I hurt sometimes. It’s my life.”

“It’s not fair,” I said.

Her eyes sparkled. “You’ll have to take out a complaint with Mother Nature, then.”

I shook my head and snorted. “You know I’d try.”

“Shaking your fists at the sky,” she laughed. “But hey, don’t assault medical staff anymore.”

“No guarantees,” I said. “Why aren’t they back yet?”

“Because you scared the piss out of them, Jacques. They’re probably talking shit about you right now.”

“Please don’t call me that,” I said, my voice going harsher than I intended. How did she even know my real name? I even made the League call me Jack in all official settings. Mara recoiled at my tone, and I softened. “Sorry. I just . . . I’d do anything to get you what you need.”

Mara looked upset suddenly, her gaze going to her lap where her other hand smoothed her blanket. “I need to tell you something. You have to promise not to freak out.”

“I won’t freak out. I’m done. What’s wrong?”

Her cheeks drew in where she chewed on them. “I got fired yesterday.”

“Oh my god.” A hand clamped over my mouth. “Mara, I’m so sorry. Why?”

She was biting her lower lip so hard it went white. “Because I brought the kids in. Too many times I guess.”

Silence fell between us. This would have been the perfect reason for her to marry me. She now needed a job. She wouldn’t be able to support herself and her kids for long on her own without a job. Plus, there was insurance to consider. You can pay for it on your own, but I imagined that was more expensive than what she could afford.

But I assumed she’d already thought about that.

“The offer still stands.”

She nodded, her lower lip trembling. I ran my thumb under it and she squeezed her eyes shut, a tear dripping out.

“Hey. Look at me, sweetheart.”

With a shaky sniff, she opened her eyes, pressing the heel of her hand to her cheek to dry the tear. I waited for her eyes to focus on mine.

“If you decide to marry me, I want it to be your choice. Not because your back’s against a wall. I’m not going to pressure you to take the offer. You’ve told me what you need, and I’ve told you what I can give you and what I can’t.”

“I know,” she squeaked. “It’s just all so much. Everything’s on hard mode right now.”

“Come here.” I wrapped her up in a tight hug, and her arms banded around my back. “One thing at a time. You lived. That’s the most important thing.”

She let out a watery laugh against my chest. “Yes. I lived.” Then she fell silent again. “What about my kids, Jack? What if I had died? If we’re married, you’re probably the next in line to be their guardian. And they could be just like me.”

I drew back so she could see my face. “I’m okay with that. I mean, not with you dying, but if the worst happened, I’m okay with being their dad.”

She sniffled and sucked in a choppy breath. “They could be just like me, Jack. Like this.” She gestured to the bed around her.

“I can handle them. I can handle this.”

Her eyes watered. “Jack, you assaulted medical staff. I don’t think you can handle this.”

My stomach dropped. I nodded because she was right. I did the opposite of handling it. It was like a switch flipped in my body and I had no control. And I hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m fucked up, Mara. I don’t want to lie to you and say I’m not. When I care about somebody, it’s like I have to protect them at all costs. And I get it if you don’t want that, and you don’t want to marry me because of that.”

She looked up into my eyes, rolling her lips between her teeth. “That’s part of what makes you such a good dad, Jack. You protect what you lo—care about.”

“Nice save,” I chuckled.

“Well, you do love your kids, even if you won’t ever love me.”

I held her close, her scratchy hospital gown open in the back and allowing me to touch her skin. I wanted to tell her: I cared about her. It unsettled me, but at the same time, it was also the most natural thing in the world. Nothing made it clearer than the way I dropped everything to help her.

And it wasn’t just when she was in trouble. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her at my game. From wanting her at my house for Harper’s birthday. From feeling more settled when she was under my roof.

There was no way around it. I cared about Mara.

That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from kissing the top of her head, and she nuzzled into me harder. “Can I get you one of those alert bracelets or something?” I asked.

“Instead of marrying you? Sure.”

I sighed, and Mara laughed. She loved irritating me. “For when I’m not around after you marry me.”

“If I want to,” she teased, but that part needed emphasis from me.

“I’m serious about that part, Mar. We can figure out something else if getting married doesn’t work for you. I can help you until you get back on your feet.”

She shook her head. “That is so not your job.”

I held us nose to nose and she actually looked happy for a second. “I’ve got a big nose. I like sticking it where it doesn’t belong.”

Mara let out this throaty, raspy laugh that under different circumstances would have made my pants tighten. But instead it just reminded me of the stakes. If things had gone even slightly differently, Mara might not have been here at all.

Feelings surged through me: protectiveness, concern, care, and some lurking feeling I couldn’t define.

We were still wrapped up in each other, her head tipped back to look at me. I drank her in: sparkling blue eyes flicking over my face, her bangs somehow still intact despite everything she’d been through, those heart-shaped red lips. “I’m really glad you lived. I like having you around.”

Mara feigned shock. “I was previously told you don’t like anyone. Especially not hockey moms.”

I shook my head and she cackled. “Brat.”

She puffed out her bottom lip and batted her lashes. “Be nice to me. I’m sick.”

“You came to the wrong place if you want nice.”

“I don’t believe you,” she hummed. “You’re such a softie for me.”

With my thumb on her chin, I tapped her lips with my finger. “What do I have to do to get you to shut your fucking mouth, Mara?”

A beat. The space between before and after. The pulse between a world before Mara and all the majesty that came after. Eyes glowing, breath held, lips parted with the slightest smirk.

My hand in her hair and hers on my neck, and finally, fucking finally, her eyes closing and her lips on mine. Soft lips. My nose pressing into her cheek, swiping my tongue along her lips and her deep hum.

Sydney used to shit on me for kissing her in a way that wasn’t aesthetically pleasing. Before our wedding, she made me practice the picture-perfect kiss.

I didn’t give a fuck how this looked. I fucking devoured Mara because I needed her. I needed her tongue and her taste. I needed her air and her little gasps. Her whimpers and mine. The relief and the security and the feral desperation of it all.

I needed her alive. I needed her safe.

But most of all, I needed her with me.