Desertion
Page 20“I know, Mom. But do you think this is fair for me? For Ava?” I step out of her arms and prepare for an argument that is sure to follow. I wasn’t prepared for it, but now I’ve started, I want to get it all out. I want her to know it’s not okay to make me feel this way.
“I’m trying to protect you,” she whispers and the sorrow behind her words is tough to hear.
“From what? From life? ’Cause it’s what you’re stopping us from doing. You’re stopping us from living our lives.” Her intake of breath tells me I’ve delivered my blow, but a part of me wants to push even further. At what point is it too much? Am I meant to sit back and be okay when every year goes by and I lose a bigger part of myself? She’s not happy she lost one child; she’s forcing us to lose ourselves?
“Bell, you should go. You don’t want to be late.” Dad steps in before Mom can react. I nod and carefully retreat.
“I’m sorry,” I say, but the damage has been done. Dad gives me a wink and nods to the door, while still holding my mom. I turn and catch my sister’s eyes. She drops her brows like she doesn’t get me. I’ve never stood up to my parents, always going with the flow. Seeing me stand up would be strange for her.
“I’ll message you when I’m on my way home,” I tell the room, but no one responds. “I love you,” I whisper, picking up my coat.
“Be safe, sweetheart,” Dad says over Mom’s head.
“I will,” I promise, taking one last look at Mom before I turn and head for the door. I love my family more than anything. Even though I just pushed my mom, I won’t allow myself to feel guilty. I need to live my life even if there’s a risk. I’m doing everything I can to find Paige. If they knew my reason, they would understand.
“Bell.” Jesse stands from the booth in Fireside Bar and waves me over. He wanted to pick me up, but I shot him down very quickly, telling him I would meet him. He didn’t push, but I could tell he wasn’t happy. I thought I’d risk an annoyed Jesse over my mother having a fit.
“You made it.” A crooked smile forms and my pulse quickens. It’s the same look he gave me when he pushed his fingers inside of me last week.
Raw.
Wild.
Free.
He’s wearing his Rebels’ cut and a pair of dark-washed jeans, completing his signature look. So simple, but he looks good, too good.
“You think I would’ve stood you up?” I lose my jacket and slide into the booth seat.
“It was fifty-fifty.” He laughs before sliding in next to me. I wasn’t expecting him to follow me in to this side, and all of a sudden, I feel trapped.
“Well, I want to find my sister.”
“Did you find anything out?” I ask, wondering if this is all for nothing.
“Spoke to my brother. He was a detective on your sister’s case up until last year.”
“Detective Carter?” I ask, shocked for a second. Wow, I didn’t pick up on the connection until now.
“Yeah.” He nods, not looking happy about it.
“You don’t look anything alike.” I compare Jesse’s blond hair and blue eyes to Detective Carter’s dark hair and brown eyes.
“Thank fuck too.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “He’s an ugly fucker.” I don’t know if he really believes it, but Detective Carter is anything but ugly. “Why are you looking like you don’t agree?” he questions and I almost choke on my answer.
“Well, I wouldn’t call Jackson ugly.” I keep the truth in my answer.
“Jackson? You on a first name basis with all the detectives on your sister’s case or just my brother?” Jesse’s tone changes and his eyes darken while he waits for my answer.
“Should I be concerned you’re on first name basis with my brother?”
“I don’t know why it would concern you, Jesse.”
“Because if there’s more to whatever is happening here, then I need to know.”
“What is happening here?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond. “Jesse, the only thing happening here is I’m trying to find my sister.” He keeps quiet, watching me closely. I don’t know what he wants me to say. It’s almost like he’s jealous I know Jackson. Shaking the thought away I hold his stare. “Say something, Jesse.” The silence is too much.
“I want to fuck you, Bell. I’m not going to lie. There’s something about you.” He throws it out there, and just like every time he says something inappropriate to me, my stomach dips in excitement. How can words make me ache for something I have no business wanting?