Page 26 of My Fiancé's Brother 2

“If you didn’t want me, you could have just told me that you changed your mind.” I spat the words at him. My tone was ice cold.

Something flashed in his eyes, but his tone was neutral. “You’re the one that told me repeatedly that you don’t want to marry me.”

His words were tossed out there on the table between the four of us. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. He was right. I wanted nothing more than to marry this man and when he asked me, I'd been a complete idiot. My stupid insecurities and fears had wrecked everything. I should have jumped in Jackson’s arms the moment he had proposed and just said yes. Now he didn’t even want to marry me, and he was about to disappear from our lives. Not only had I beenstupid and ungrateful towards Jackson’s honorable approach to this situation, but I had also been grossly unfair to our unborn child. I felt sick with misery. I had no idea how to fix this.

I wanted to find a little corner and curl up in a ball. I needed to get away. This conversation was too much to bear, and I had no answers.

“I would like to go home now, please,” my voice wavered.

“Emily,” Matt admonished.

I looked down at my lap, struggling to maintain my composure.

“Now,” my voice was barely audible.

Matt sighed indicating his displeasure, and then he motioned for the waiter to bring us the check. When the billfold was handed to Matt, he discretely slid it towards me.

“What’s going on?” Jackson’s tone made me lift my head. If I didn’t know better, he sounded pissed.

I flushed. “Oh, sorry. Did you want anything else?”

He reached across me and picked up the billfold. He gave Matt a derisive look, as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

“It’s fine,” Matt flushed. “Emily always pays.”

“I’ve never let a woman buy me dinner, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Thank you, Jackson,” Irene patted her mouth with her cloth napkin. It enraged me that they were making Jackson pay for his good-bye dinner, but at this point, there was no fight left in me.

CHAPTER 9

Matt ledus through the restaurant, and I followed behind him. I needed to talk to Jackson alone. I had no idea what to say, but he couldn't go back to Virginia with it ending like this. We needed to talk. He might have decided that he didn’t want to marry me, but I needed to make things right between us. We were having a child together. We needed to get on the same page and figure this out. Did he want custody? Did he even want to be part of this child’s life? We had so much to figure out. I had no answers, but at the very least, we needed to start a dialogue.

A high-pitched scream startled me out of my reflections. Matt stopped so short that I ran into his back. He stumbled to the side. I watched, confused as he dove between two tables and landed on his knees. He ducked for cover.

I turned my head and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. My body tensed. Fight or flight? Try completely frozen. I couldn’t bring air into my lungs while my mind, in slow motion, pieced together the situation in front of me.

Dirty face. Head shaved. My breath rasped, and my heartbeat thrashed. Would it hurt? When the bullet pierced my brain, would ithurt or would I just be gone? His hand and the gun shook. Is this how it would all end for me?

“Give me your purse.”

I stared at the man, noting distractedly that his lips were cracked. Dark circles lined under his eyes. He looked deranged.

The silence in the restaurant deafened. I was certain that everyone could hear my heart hammer.

Two big hands wrapped around my shoulders and gently pushed me aside. My numb trembling legs moved against my will. I turned and realized with horror that Jackson had pushed me aside. Now he stood face to face with the man and the gun. The gun pointed directly at his chest.

No.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Jackson couldn't die in a restaurant saving my life. He wasn't allowed to sacrifice himself for me.

“Take your gun and walk out and no one will get hurt,” Jackson’s voice was matter of fact. Relaxed.

The guy looked scared. He raised the gun to Jackson’s head. “Fuck you, asshole. Give me your wallet. And her purse too.”

“You can have it,” I bleated, holding my purse towards him. “Take it all.”

The guy’s eyes dropped down to my black Givenchy bag. Jackson moved so quickly, I didn’t even see how it happened.

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