Beholden (The Belonging Duet, #2)(14)

Entering the room, my breath hitches as I look up and I catch a glimpse of his smile as he sees me. He’s awake again. Looking at him, I know what I have to do. I’ll stay for as long as he wants me to be here, but at some point we’re going to talk about everything, because I can’t go through him walking out like that again. Neither of us deserves to go through any more pain, and I won’t be the one to inflict it upon him.





“I thought you left.” Jackson’s voice cracks at the end.

I step forward to his bed and give a tiny shake of my head. “No. I was on the phone and then I fell asleep in the chair. I told you I wasn’t going to leave.”

“Oh,” is all he says before looking over at Mark.

Mark scoffs, “Dude, I f*cking told you she’d be back. *.”

Jackson gives him the finger and smiles. It’s nice to see them together. I can still feel the weight of our worry about how this would play out.

I stand there awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do. We survey each other with the questions and uncertainty stifling in the room. Each tick of the clock my anxiety builds.

Mark clears his throat, “Well, I can see I’m not needed here. And you two need to talk. I’m going to make some calls—including your mother again. She hasn’t answered and I’m afraid she might kill someone. That woman scares the shit out of me.” He gently clasps Jackson’s shoulder. “Glad to see you decided to stop being an * and finally woke up. Maybe next time you won’t be so dramatic about coming back to life.” Mark smiles at me and looks back at Jackson. “We’ll catch up later.”

Jackson smirks and Mark walks by and kisses my cheek. “Be good and call me if you need anything. Talk to him.”

“Catherine, please come here.” Jackson puts his hand out and waits.

Stepping forward until my leg hits the bed, I shudder from his proximity. He draws this from me. His presence and power elicits these reactions from my body without permission. Jackson grabs my hand and rubs slow circles against my skin. I close my eyes and savor his touch.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

My eyes open and I stand there shocked. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Mark told me. He said you were alone in the room,” he explains.

“Yes … no … I don’t know. I’ve never been more scared in my life. I wasn’t sure if you were alive or dead. I just …” I can’t say anything else without losing it. I don’t want to think about what happened. My heart pounds and my chest heaves.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Jackson,” I say softly.

“Forgive me. I was a complete tool.” His eyes tell me it isn’t about what happened hours ago.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this now.” I struggle as I say the words. As much as I want answers, his health is far more important.

“I can’t wait to make this right. I need to fix—”

“No.” I put my hand up and soften my voice. “You can’t fix everything any more than you can save everyone.”

He pulls my hand and I sink on to the bed. “I can fix this. I was wrong.” Jackson’s eyes swim with unease.

I love this man. That’s the bottom line. I don’t want to spend any more time apart. We’ve already lost two weeks because of our insecurities and fears and misguided heroics. At what cost? We’re both miserable and fighting for the same thing, but both scared.

“Yes, you were. But please, let’s talk about all this later.” He looks exhausted and he needs to rest. The last thing I want is to be the cause of any complications.

Jackson looks away uncomfortably. “All I can think about is that you won’t be here if I go to sleep. When I opened my eyes and saw you I thought I’d died.”

“What? Why would you think that?” I ask confused.

He turns to me with love and conviction as he grips my hand. “Catherine, you’re my heaven. So I thought I was dead, because that’s when I thought I’d see you again.”

I’m speechless. Which never happens, but seriously? That’s his answer? I lean forward and kiss him. With my lips pressed against him, everything feels right. It’s like the world has righted itself in this single instant. Gently, my fingers touch his face as I memorize this moment. I hold all I need between my hands.

I lean back and meet his eyes still holding his face. “Every time you manage to do this to me.”

“Do what?” His brow furrows.

“Disarm me. Make me forget everything. The thing is …” I draw in a deep breath and let it out, staying locked in his eyes as I do. “You left me. You walked out the door. After you promised you wouldn’t do that.” Tears form in my eyes as I remember the heartache I felt at that moment.

Jackson reaches toward my face and winces. “I know. I f*cked up. I wasn’t able to think of anything other than I had to get away from you.”

His words are like a knife through my heart. “You had to get away from me?”

“I needed to save you in that moment. Do you understand I killed a man?” Jackson asks.

“No, you didn’t.” He breaks my heart when he says these things. The turmoil and guilt he carries is unnecessary. The man who would do anything for anyone somehow has this warped view of himself. He’s noble, kind, forgiving, and yet he thinks somehow he intentionally or even unintentionally causes these things.