<b>Chapter </b><b>32 </b>
JESSICA
I feel so bad. So fucking bad. But Pierce told me Mom’sing home and I need to fix myself.
Soltry.
I’ve wiped my face a dozen times, I’ve told myself to breathe, to calm down, to hold it in for five damn minutes–but it just keepsing. My chest hurts. My ribs feel like they’re caving in. My throat’s raw from trying not to sob out loud.
Pierce is next to me. He’s not saying anything, thank god, but I can feel him watching me out of the corner of his eye. I hope he doesn’t ask hope to god he doesn’t touch me, if he does, I’ll fall apart right here. I’ll scream. I’ll throw up. I don’t know
Mom’s car pulls up. When she entered the house and give us a warm hug, I try to pretend I’m d I saw her. I press my face to her shoulder and try not to cry. “I’m happy you’re home,” I whisper.
She pulls <b>back </b>just enough to lock at me, her brows knitting as she tucks <b>a </b>strand of hair behind my ear. Her fingers are soft against my cheek. “You <b>okay</b>, Jess?”
“Y–Yeah”
“You look pale,” she says, brushing her thumb across my cheekbone. “Have you been eating?”
I choke on <b>a </bugh that almostes out as a sob, “Yeah,” I lie again. “I’m fine.”
Pierce shifts beside me. I know he wants to say something, maybe call me out, maybe help–il don’t know–but he stays silent.
Mom doesn’t <b>push</b>. She <b>just </b>pulls me close again, arms wrapping around me.” Aw. <b>Both </b>of my babies are so sweet” Pierce growls in the background, making meugh. He hates it when mom call <b>us </b>babies, “Did Pierce take care of you while I’m recovering, Jess?”
“He tried,” I say, smiling a little because that’s what she wants–what she needs. I can’t give her the <b>truth</b>, so I give her that.
Pierce snorts behind me.“I did take care of her. <b>She’s </b>the one who didn’t make it easy”
Momughs like that’s the cutest thing in the world,pletely missing how tight my voice is. How stiff my shoulders are
in the kit
After eating dinner with mom and waiting for her to sleep, Pierce and I are left in the kitchen doing the dishes. I mean, I’m the only one doing the dishes He’s just standing there, watching me.
“What?” Lasked, bothered.
I scrub at the same dish twice.
Finally, he says, “<b>You </b>gonna talk about it!”
I don’t look at him. “Talk about what?”
I stare at the sink, at the swirling <b>soap</b>, trying to pretend that if I <b>just </b>keep washing, I can scrub the whole damn memory away.
He sighs. “Jess…
“Don’t,” I whisper.
He hesitates, then straightens,ing closer. “You were shaking. I’ve <b>never </b>seen you like that. He didn’t he didn’t hurt you, right?
09:47 Tue, 5 Aug
I whip around. “No. <b>Jesus</b>, Pience. No.
“Jess,” Pierce says again, firmer this time. “Was he hurting you?”
“No.” My voice cracks, I turn around fast, clutching the towel like a shield. “No, he never he didn’t hurt me. Not like that”
Pierce looks unconvinced
Imeet his eyes anyway.
“He didn’t hurt me, I repeat, “I swear,”
Grayson just broke my heart. He shattered it.
“Jess
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I shake my head, fast, desperate.” can’t. If <b>talk </b>about it, I start crying again and Mom will hear and I can’t–i can’t ruin her first night back with this.”
Pierce moves like he’s about to reach for me.
I step away and that makes him stop.
clutch the edge of the sink tighter, my knuckles going white, my breath hitching high in my chest because it feels like if let go of this stupid fucking dish towel, if let my hands go ck for even a second, I’ll fall <b>apart </b>all over the floor.
“Jess,” he <b>says</b>, quieter now, like he’s trying not to scare me off. “You’re not okay.”
I squeeze my eyes shut
I know I’m not.
I feel like my whole body’s bruised from the inside out, my heart cracked wide open and bleeding down into my stomach, making me sick, <b>making </b>me hollow.
“I just need to get through tonight” I whisper. “Please, Pierce. Just let me get through tonight.”
There’s a stretch of silence where neither of us moves, I can feel the words <b>he’s </b>holding back, the way he wants to push, to fix, to be the big brother who drags the truth out of me whether I want it or not
But he doesn’L
instead<b>, </b>he shifts his weight like he’s hurting too, like he’s still seeing the pieces of me i can’t hide fast enough.
“You know,” he says slowly, voice tight, “if you just said the word… I’d fucking kill him.”
Something inside me shatters all over <b>again</b>, Pierce has and will always be protective of me. I know that Tears burn hot at the back of my throat. I shove the dish harder into the sink, hearing the porcin crack against the steel, but I don’t care.
“I don’t <b>want </b>him dead,” I whisper. “I just want him to stop hurting me.”
My voice breaks on thest word. I cover my face with my hands <b>and </b>suck in a breath so sharp it stings my lungs.
Pierce curses under his breath. The next second, <b>his </b>arms are around me, pulling me into him whether I want it or not
I try <b>to </b><b>shove </b>him away. I try to push at his chest, beat my fists against him because it’s not fair, it’s not fair that he’s being kind when all want
to do is drown in how much this hurts.
But he doesn’t let me go.
And somewhere in the fight, my legs give out and I copse against him, silent sobs tearing out of me as I cling to his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me standing.
“I’ve got you, Jess,” he mutters into my hair, holding me tighter. “I’ve got you.”
I don’t know when the fight leaves me.
Maybe it’s somewhere between the second and third sob. Maybe it’s when Pierce tightens his arms like he’s trying to hold all the broken
pieces of me together.
Maybe it’s when the truth ws its way out of my throat before I can swallow it back down.
“I liked him,” I gasp into his chest, the words ripping out of me, ugly and broken and raw. “I really liked him, Pierce.” His hand moves <b>up </b><b>and </b>down my back, rough, desperate. “I thought- My voice snaps, cutting off into a choked, humiliating noise. I drag <b>a </b>hand across my face, smearing tears everywhere, but they just keep falling, hot and relentless. 1 thought maybe I shake my head because I can’t even finish the sentence. It’s too stupid. Too pathetic.
Maybe he loved me too.
be I wasn’t just a thing he used up and threw <b>away</b>.
Maybe I
But now the only thing that’s real is the way Grayson looked at me, cold and guarded, like I <b>was </b>a problem he was finally solving by leaving
And that look hurts worse than anything he could <b>have </b>said.
“I’m sorry,” <i>I </i>whisper into
his shirt, the words tasting like iron in my mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this-
“Jess,” Pierce says, rough and sharp, dragging me back, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
I sob harder, pressing my forehead to Pierce’s shoulder, my whole body wracked and trembling. The ache in my c my ribs might split apart just trying to contain it.
chest is so deep it feels like
It’s not fair.
None of it is fair.