“You hated her.”
“I loved her.”
“You raped me after she decided to stay with him … for me. You hated her.”
Knox stared at the floor, or the past, or maybe into the void in his heart that used to house his soul. Jillian’s words caused him pain. She could see it. He deserved it.
The creak of the door at the top of the stairs brought them out of the past. Irene probably heard everything and was ready to add her take on the unfolding of history.
“Everyone decent?” She called from the top of the stairs, punctuating her question with a cackle. “Of course you’re not. Oh well, it’s time to welcome our prestigious guest.”
Jillian held her breath, not sure if she would ever breathe again.
“Look at me,” Knox said through gritted teeth. Gone was the scorned lover. He was all commanding. “Don’t you fucking lose it. What she’s going to do will hurt worse than anything I ever did to you. Do you understand?”
For the first time they got to see Irene’s accomplices as they escorted a new prisoner down the stairs. She didn’t recognize them. Maybe because she wasn’t looking at them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Their eyes locked. His eyelids heavy from being drugged didn’t hide the pain. She’d only seen that look once before. It was when she told him about the rape. Even the man whose superpower was masking his reaction had his breaking point, his kryptonite. Luke’s was Jessica.
“Set him there.” Irene nodded toward Knox. “It will be easier to play truth or dare if they can make eye contact. Besides, she’s been pissing herself longer, no need to subject anyone to that.”
Irene wanted to humiliate her. Jillian didn’t need a mirror to know that she had never looked or smelled worse. That certainty, mixed with the probability that Luke hated her for leaving him, was too much to bear. Her gaze drifted to the bow and arrows on the table. Maybe Irene would extend some godly mercy and put Jillian out of her misery.
“Feel free to chat amongst yourselves. I’ll be back in the morning.”
Creak. Thunk. The door closed, leaving a painful silence. Jillian never noticed it with Knox. They talked. They didn’t talk. It made no difference. Had it not been for her mom, there wouldn’t have been anything to say. But with Luke … there was everything to say.
She felt both of their gazes on her. Every second that passed without either one of them saying a word was a gift. Maybe they would both just go to sleep and maybe, just maybe, her body would surrender to death in the middle of the night.
“Jessica, look at me.” Luke made the first stab to her heart. Just the sound of his broken voice brought her one breath closer to death.
She didn’t look at Luke. Her gaze moved to Knox. Hell had officially risen to meet her. It was the only explanation for her finding courage from her enemy to look at the man who had unequivocally loved her.
Knox didn’t say anything, no “keep your shit together” or “don’t let her break you.” Instead, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall—a proverbial leaving the room.
“I have to know …” That voice.
She drew in a shallow breath—all her lungs would allow—then she gave him her eyes. It hurt so bad.
“Were you pregnant?”
“Luke …” she whispered, her face contorted with pain from that one forgotten detail. “How did you—”
“The receipt to the pregnancy test was in your purse. God … please just tell me.”
The downside to dying without a moment’s notice was all the unfinished details: the half-carton of milk in the refrigerator, the unclaimed dry cleaning, and the unshared pregnancy test results.
*
Day
Lake lost her leg. A week after the accident, just like the doctor predicted, infection took over, threatening her life. It was awful, but it paled in comparison to the real concern: she’d been in a coma since the accident.
The Jones family rallied; it was all they knew. Tom and Felicity refused to leave the hospital until she came out of her coma, so their other children took turns staying in Tahoe to keep the B&Bs up and running. Luke went back to work half-days and spent the other half at the hospital. On a good day he managed to convince his parents to go back to his place for a shower and a decent meal.
Jessica did what she did best—gave of herself unconditionally. She couldn’t cook, but she could order food, deliver it, hold hands, get coffee, share hugs, and listen to their deepest fears while reassuring them that Lake would come back to them.
Both she and Luke devoted their non-working hours to his family. The almost wedding never came up, partly because it didn’t matter in the light of a life and death situation and partly because they saw little of each other. Usually one or the other would stay at the hospital to be there for his parents, who seemed to be losing hope a little more each day.