Page 37 of Octane

“No,” he clears his throat. “She waited too long and never got the chance. Dad’s been in prison ever since.”

“I’m so sorry, Jackson.” I don’t know what else to say.

I want to throw my arms around him and hold onto him until he doesn’t hurt any more. I want to comfort the young boy deep inside of him who is still reeling from the pain of watching his mother suffer the same abuse that I’m suffering right now.

“No, it’s okay. It happened years ago, when I was in college. I just don’t want to see the same thing happen to someone else. If I can save you from the same fate that took her from me then, believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The thought that his words evoke is sobering. I think about the progression of abuse in my relationship with Daniel. When he first began to order me around, I thought, ‘at least he doesn’t hit me’. Until he did.

The first time he laid his hands on me, I thought, ‘it’s just a bruise. It will heal quickly’. Until the time came when he left a mark so significant, I couldn’t leave my house for two weeks. Then, it was, ‘at least he didn’t break any bones’. He hasn’t yet, but his threats and actions are getting more and more severe as time goes by.

I think back to the other night, when he told me he would kill me if I ever left him. At the time I was scared, but I didn’t think he would be able to actually do something like that. Hearing Jackson’s story and replaying our history in my head again spikes a fear in me that I’ve never felt before.

It terrifies me. I need to get out of here. I can’t risk being caught here, alone, divulging my deepest, darkest secrets. Daniel has followed me before… what is keeping him from doing it again? A horrifying thought creeps into my brain.

What if he followed me here?

“I should go, Jackson.” Standing, I turn toward the door, then spin back around to face him. “Please, don’t do or say anything about what was said tonight.”

“Only if you promise to come to me if you need help,” he counters.

“I promise,” I agree, lying to him for the second time tonight.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but I turn around again and walk out of his office. Jackson accompanies me to the elevator and rides it down to the garage with me.

Exiting the elevator, he places his hand on my shoulder. I stop walking and look down as I hear the elevator doors close behind us.

“Sawyer, you’re too good for him. He doesn’t deserve one more second of your time.”

I don’t know if I can look him in the face again without crumbling. Two different parts of me are shouting at one another in my head, and I don’t know which is going to win.

My fear of staying here and letting Jackson protect me or my fear of leaving right now and returning to Daniel. I want to stay here. I want it so bad. I dread returning to my carefully planned out, perfectly imperfect, terrifying life, not knowing which Daniel I’m going to get when I arrive home.

Finally, I look up and tempt a glance at Jackson. He wraps one of his strong arms around me and pulls me into him. He’s so soft and warm, the complete opposite of Daniel. Cradling my face in his palm, our eyes meet, and I feel like I can see clearly for the first time.

I’m not prepared when he leans in for a kiss. Blood thrums through my body, my temperature rises, and sweat breaks out all over my skin as a tingling, swirling feeling increases in the pit of my stomach. It’s an ache that I haven’t felt in so long, I’d nearly forgotten it existed.

I want it.

I’m terrified.

I need it.

I’m not worthy of it.

I crave it.

I’ll never be enough.

As his lips are about to connect with mine, all of the synapses in my body begin firing at once, determined to do me in before Jackson can sweep me off my feet. A cloud of lust envelops us just as my conscience decides to pay me a visit.

My conscience is a fucking bitch.

Placing my hands on his chest, I push him back, away from me. Wiggling out of his soft and seductive grip, I stagger backward as my head clears.

“I’m sorry,” I grumble in a breathy whisper.

“No, it’s my fault,” he responds.

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