Page 79 of Hot for the Jerk

“So I went to the library and looked up on the computer what things I could take to end a pregnancy.It worked.I miscarried again.The librarian—the same one who sent us the message from our aunt—befriended me.Our congregation was well-known in our small, rural Idaho town.She knew what kind of hellish life I must have been living.Her husband was a doctor and one day she pulled me aside and asked me if I was on any birth control.I told her I wasn’t.She then said she would provide me with it for as long as I wanted.The prescription was in her name, and every month, she gave me the package.I would hide it in my bra and take it when Josiah wasn’t in the house.I owe my life to that woman.

“It was about six months after my forced miscarriage—when Marco was nine months old, and Josiah was furious with me for not being pregnant again—that I started to look for a way out.I knew my cousins had gotten out, but besides emailing them during my monthly trips to the library for cookbooks—that’s all Josiah would allow me—I had no way to get in touch with them.Not without Josiah finding out.”

My hand trembled so much as I reached for my water glass on the coffee table that I had to use both hands to bring it to my mouth as droplets splashed out onto my pants.

Jagger reached forward and cupped my hands in his, guiding the glass safely to my mouth.

“One morning, I burned Josiah’s toast for breakfast, because Marco was fussy and I got caught up nursing him in the living room.The smoke detector went off, and Josiah lost his mind.How dare I not have breakfast ready for him when he woke up?How dare I serve him burnt toast?He threw the plate of eggs and toast at my head, but I managed to duck, shielding Marco who was in my arms.The plate shattered against the wall, and a moment later, Josiah clutched his chest and toppled to the floor.”

Jagger helped me put the water glass back on the table, but he didn’t let go of my hands.He held them in his, in my lap, but before I could finish my story, he untangled our hands and picked up the bag of frozen peas from the couch.With one hand, he held it against my cheek, and with the other, he held my hands.

“I could have called 9-1-1,” I said, my voice quavering.“But all I did was stand over his body, holding my son in my arms as I watched the life drain from his eyes.As he pleaded wordlessly for me to help him.I checked his pulse, made sure he was dead, then I went and put Marco down for his nap and had a shower.After my shower, I came out and cleaned up the mess from breakfast and called 9-1-1.I don’t think I’d ever been so calm in my life.”Sucking in a sharp breath, I held it in my lungs for a moment before lifting my gaze from our twined fingers to his face.

I wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do, but I wasn’t expecting him to haul my body against his, or for him to bury his face in my neck.Holding me like I’ve never been held before, he murmured words that released the floodgates.“Fuck, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.You are so brave.So, so fucking brave.You did the right thing.You deserved so much better.Youdeserveso much better.I won’t let you or Marco be hurt again by those people.I promise.”

Hiccupping a sob, I hugged him back, not caring that the bag of peas fell to the floor as my body shook with each stuttered exhale.

Once I stopped crying so violently, he loosened his grip on me, then sat back.I wasn’t ready to let him go, but I let him.Fat blobs of tears marred my vision, and he used his thumbs to sweep them away, taking extra care on the cheek that Soloman had hit.“I can stay tonight, on the couch, if you’d feel safer.”

I nodded.“I would appreciate that.”

“Thank you for telling me.”There wasn’t pity in his eyes, just sincerity.Like he was genuinely appreciative that I trusted him enough to share my haunting past with him.“Your secret is safe with me.And for the record, you didn’t kill him.You did the right thing.He didn’t deserve mercy, or help, or a second chance.Not a man like that.”

My chin trembled as more tears threatened.“You don’t … you don’t look at me differently, do you?”

The small, crooked smile that tugged at his mouth sent a rush of worry careening through me.“It’s hard not to.”

Oh, no!

“I always knew you were strong, but now?Holy fuck, Elsa, you’re stronger than I ever could have imagined.I’m in awe of that strength.Of everything you’ve overcome.I don’t pity you.I’m impressed and inspired by you.”

All I wanted to do at that moment—and it seemed, more and more moments the more I got to know Jagger—was kiss him.Have him take away the pain.The doubt.The heartache that burned like acid inside of me.

I wasn’t ready when we planned to meet in the café what felt like a lifetime ago.But I was ready now.I was ready to give a real relationship—one of my choosing—a solid try.

And just when I thought he might be ready to take that leap and kiss me back, the door from upstairs opened and my son appeared.

“Mom?”Marco asked, his voice small and unsure as Jagger and I turned away from each other and untangled our hands.

I reached for him and his eyes turned saucer-sized when he took in my face.He came to sit beside me and I hugged him tight, never wanting to let go.“Jagger’s going to stay on the futon in my office tonight, okay?Just so we feel a bit safer.”

Marco’s eyes met Jagger’s, and they hardened.“So, you like my mom now?You’re not her enemy anymore?Because I don’t like people who don’t like my mom.And I didn’t like you.But if you like her now, then …” He shrugged.

Jagger’s eyes lit up, and he smiled widely at my son.“I very much like your mom, Marco.I don’t think I everdidn’tlike her.We just had a very complicated relationship.Several misunderstandings and miscommunications that led us tothinkwe didn’t like each other.That we were enemies.But I don’t want to be her—or anyone’s—enemy, especially not yours, anymore.”

“Oh, I one hundred percent didn’t like you,” I said to him, teasing.

He bumped me with his shoulder.“But you like me now, right?”

I rolled my eyes.“You’re all right, I guess.”

“I’d like us to be friends, but only when you’re ready,” Jagger said to Marco.“No pressure.Your speed, your way.But what happened with that man earlier—”

“He said he was my uncle.”

“Technically, he is, yes,” I said.“But he’s not a good person.”

“What happened with that man,” Jagger went on, “was scary for everyone.So if it’s okay with you, I’ve offered to sleep on the couch, or the futon, or whatever, so you guys feel a little safer tonight.Then we can figure out what to do tomorrow and the days after that.We’ll definitely go to the police and let them know about him too.”

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