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Hot Ticket

Page 65

   


“Why not?”
“She was my mother.”
“Yes, she was, but she was also a person. A person who hurt you. I don’t like it when people hurt those I love.”
“Need to inflict all the pain yourself? Is that it?”
She slapped his ass with the paddle, and he groaned, his head tilting back.
“I don’t hurt you the way she did,” Aggie said.
“But you’re trying to.”
“No, I—”
“Do you think I’m stupid, Aggie? That I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You think I’m broken. You think you can fix me. All that ‘I love you’ bullshit doesn’t mean a damned thing, does it? You don’t love me. Not the real me. You love who you think you can make me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. Unfasten the cuffs. I’m done.”
So that was his game. She wasn’t going to release him—no matter how unaffected he pretended to be.
“I’m not. Not even close to done.” She tossed the paddle aside and caressed his skin with her hands and her lips. Touched him. Kissed him with the same tenderness he frequently showed her.
After several minutes, he pulled away, yanking on his restraints. “Okay, you win. Let me go. My shoulder hurts.”
“What do you mean, I win? Do you think this is a game?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you blame yourself for your mother’s death?” she asked. “Or just for her failures in life?”
“Shut up.”
“Do you think she would have been more successful if you’d never been born?”
“I said, shut up, Aggie! I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Do you wish you would have died in that car accident instead of her? Do you think she would have been happy if you’d died? Do you—”
“Shut up, Aggie.” He yanked on his chains hard now, trying to pull the hook from the ceiling. “Just shut up. You don’t know a goddamned thing about how I feel.”
“Because you won’t talk to me. If I’m wrong, then tell me how you really feel.”
“You’re not wrong,” he shouted. “Okay? I do wish I’d died instead of her. I did ruin her life.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Just… just let me go. Take the cuffs off.”
“Then you’ll run. You’ll hide.”
“That’s all I know how to do. It’s all I can do. Hide from it. If I don’t, it will find me. Hurt me. Until I feel like I’ve been eviscerated. Until death would be a blessing.”
She touched his face, and he looked into her eyes. She’d never seen his pain this close to the surface. It tore at her heart.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His gaze drifted to her forehead.
“Look at me, Jace. I want you to believe what I say. I want you to see it in my eyes.”
After a long moment, his eyes settled on hers.
“I love you,” she said.
“Why?”
“I need a reason?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. She was losing him again. And she had plenty of reasons. She wasn’t sure which one would get through to him.
“I love the way you make love to me, so tenderly, and with such care, that I feel like the only woman in the world.”
“That’s just sex, Aggie.”
She caressed the crease in his forehead gently. “It’s more than that to me. It’s a way to connect with you. I love your smile, your laugh, your ticklish spots.”
His eyes opened.
“I love how you put everything you are into your music.”
He smiled slightly.
“I love when you confide in me. I know you don’t do that with many people. It makes me feel like you trust me, and somewhere in there, you know I love you, even if you don’t think you’re worthy.”
“I’m not worthy.”
“You are. I’m not such a great person, Jace. I have a dark past too—things I wish I could take back, change, but I realized long ago that you can’t change the past. You have to let it go. Move on.”
“I can’t forget, Aggie. I’ve tried.”
She shook her head. “You’ll never forget. You shouldn’t forget, but you have to forgive yourself. And there’s nothing to forgive as far as your mother is concerned. Being born is not something that needs to be forgiven.”
He stared at her, his defenses crumbling. “I never told her good-bye, Aggie. I was too afraid.”
“Why were you afraid? Tell me.”
He didn’t lower his gaze as he spoke. “She looked like a monster. The accident twisted her body, smashed her face. Every inch of her was swollen and broken and bloody and bruised. I couldn’t stand to look at her. My father told me I’d better tell her good-bye before it was too late, but I ran away and hid. I hid for hours until my father found me. He beat me so badly that I couldn’t get out of bed. I missed her funeral. I couldn’t stop him from getting rid of her piano. I was too weak. And too scared.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “There was nothing left of her for me to hold on to. Nothing.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “I should have said good-bye. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t…” Tears dripped from both eyes, and he squeezed them shut.
“Of course, you were afraid. You were a child, Jace. You shouldn’t have been forced to be strong. It’s okay. You have to forgive yourself. You have to.”
He bit his lip and shook his head.
She reached up and released his hands from the restraints. When he tried to turn away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He didn’t pull away as she expected, but instead, burrowed his face in her neck and trembled with emotions. She didn’t push him. She let him fall apart or pull himself together, whichever he needed.
Slowly, his ragged breathing returned to normal. Sometime in the long moments that he held her, she realized she needed this as much as he did. He gave her something no one else ever had. He gave her a reason to live—a future to look forward to and someone to love. With everything she was or dared hope to be.
“Let’s go watch the show,” he murmured.
She leaned away to look at him. “Huh?”
“The concert. I want to watch it tonight.”
“Even with Jon onstage?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I get to be your date?”
He flushed and grinned. “Will you?”