Page 20 of When We Collide

“No,” I finally speak up, shaking my head again. Dean's eyes widen in surprise.

“What do you mean, no?” he replies, his tone tinged with both confusion and frustration.

I draw in a deep breath before speaking, trying to steady my trembling hands. I take a deep breath before speaking again. “I can't just leave everything behind and run away. We have a life here, Dean. What about my family, your family, Oz?” Dean sighs and reaches for my hands, lifting them to his lips as he gazes into my eyes.

“JJ, listen to me. Right now, you’re the one with a target on your back. Viktor knows you’re the only chink in my armour. The only way he’s going to draw me out is if he threatens you. I know this is a lot to process in a short span of time and I’m so sorry baby, I truly am,” he speaks softly, “but I need you to trust me and not fight me on this. It's the only way I can ensure your safety and DJ's while I go and deal with this mess.”

His words hit me like a slap across the face by a sack full of bricks. Deal with this mess? If I know Dean, that means he’s planning on walking straight into danger. Is he planning to turn himself over to Viktor to take the heat off me and DJ? Has he lost his goddamn mind?

My heart clenches painfully at the possibility of losing him all over again. Why? Why is this happening. Why bring him back into my life just to take him all over again. I can’t bear to suffer the pain of losing him again. I won’t survive it.

“No,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “I won’t just let you go off and die to protect me, Dean, I can’t.”

“Jeyla—”

“No! Dean, stop!” I snap, pulling away from him I stand up and start pacing the length of the bedroom. “There must be another way because I can’t face the reality of losing you all over again.”

Dean rises from his seat with a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. I can see the concern and exhaustion etched into every line of his face. “JJ, I know?—”

“No, you don't know!” I shout, whirling around to face him. My voice trembles with emotion and my hands shake with rage. “You can’t even begin to fathom the hell I have been through this past year.” Dean watches me, his expression remorseful but also tinged with frustration. “I lost you, Dean. We got married and two months later I lost you!” I shriek, my eyes blazing as I glare at him. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I shove him away when he takes a step towards me. “And now you want to put me through that hell all over again. Wasn't once enough for you? You want to break what little I have left inside of me?” My voice breaks on a sob as I continue to rant. Spewing every word and every bit of devastation I have suffered at him all at once. “I would rather take a bullet to the head than go through another minute of the pain I felt after losing you.” My fists clench at my sides and when Dean reaches for me, I start pounding them against his chest with each word that escapes me. “A part of me died right alongside of you.” He stands still, taking every blow without flinching until my legs give out and I collapse into him, crying hysterically. “I can't do it all over again, please,” I wail, my body shaking in his arms. He wraps his strong arms around me and holds me close, whispering soothing words in my ear.

“I'm sorry baby,” he murmurs. “Everything I did, I did to protect you, I swear.” His words only make me cry harder, knowing that he truly believes it was all for my own good. “You think I didn’tsuffer? Do you think you wasn’t on my goddamn mind every second of every day?” Dean explains, pressing his forehead to mine. “I know how devastated you were, I was too, because all I wanted was to come back home to you.”

“Why didn’t you?” I cry. “One phone call, one small sign that you were alive was all it would have taken, and I would have come running to wherever you were.”

“I know, baby, I know, but that’s not the life I wanted for you, for us. I couldn’t make any contact with anyone from my old life. And when I finally made it to Italy and I got a phone the first thing I did was call you, even if it was to just hear your voice.”

I gasp, recalling all the nuisance phone calls I would get daily. “Oh God, all of those phone calls were you?” Dean nods, biting down on his lower lip and lowering his eyes from mine.

“Just hearing your voice or the way you would softly breathe down the phone was enough to keep me sane.” Dean pulls me into him and wraps his arms around me tightly. I melt into him and continue to sob. “Every day I had to live with the thought of having to live my life without you. Knowing you will one day move on and fall in love with someone else and it drove me fucking crazy, Jeyla.” His words are muffled against my hair as he whispers soothingly. He peppers kisses on my temple, leaving a trail of warmth wherever his lips touch. “Most days, part of me wished that I had died, because knowing you were out there living on without me killed me, JJ,” he confesses, drawing his head back to look down into my eyes. “I couldn’t bear the thought of these beautiful eyes looking at another in the same way they used to look at me.” A slow, shaky breath passes through my lips when he inches closer while he continues to speak to me in a quiet manner. “Or someone else kissing these lips when they should be kissingme.” My eyes close whenhis lips brush against mine with the barest touch with every deliberate word. “And whispering how much you hateme.” As disordered as my head is at the moment, my body immediately recognizes Dean’s touch and responds like no time has passed at all.

A fire ignites deep within me at his touch, stirring up all the intense emotions that only Dean can evoke in me. Our kiss starts slow and tender, but quickly becomes passionate as he lifts me up and presses me against the wardrobe. I want to surrender to him completely, but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that we shouldn't be doing this. As much as I need him, I know there are still unresolved issues, too many unspoken words between us that can’t be ignored.

“Dean,” I whimper, my hands gripping his shoulders as his kisses trail down my chest. The familiar scent of his cologne surrounds me, making it even harder to resist this untameable pull towards him. I’ve spent so many nights in this bed—our bed—dreaming of this moment. Aching for his touch, whether it be us making love or fucking amid a heated argument.

But now, as his hands slip under my shirt and inch closer to my breasts, I know I have to stop. “Hey, come back to me, baby,” Dean rasps, sensing that I'm distracted.

With a heavy heart, I draw myself away from him to take a breath and attempt to conjure up even a speck of rationality. “Dean, wait, I... I can't.”

Instantly, Dean's eyes flicker open and meet mine. At first, they hold a mixture of surprise and desire, but then they soften in understanding. He nods slowly, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of my face. “A few hours ago, you were dead, and now you're here and you’re kissing me...” I sigh, pressing myhead back against the wardrobe and lick my lips. “It’s all just… too much right now and I’m feeling really overwhelmed. I think I need some space to try and get my head straight.”

Dean frowns, sets me back down on my feet and takes a step back, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, of course.” I break eye contact with him and fix my gaze on the floor while I chew on my lip. “Uh, would you mind if I take a shower?”

“Oh, no, of course not.” I answer and step away from the wardrobe. “Everything is where you left it.” Dean smiles and licks his lips.

“You kept my stuff?”

“Of course, I couldn’t bring myself to move anything. Except for your Arsenal football shirt. I wear that to bed,” I admit sheepishly and Dean’s smile widens into a grin.

“Good,” he drawls, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he reaches up and pulls his hoodie off from the back of his neck in that effortless, yet undeniably sexy way that men do. The fabric glides over his broad shoulders and falls to the floor with a soft thud. I swallow thickly, my eyes practically glued to his form as Dean takes a step toward me, takes hold of my chin and gently tips my head back so he can stare into my eyes. A flicker of something passes between us before he speaks again. “I always thought it looked far better on you anyway,” he asserts, a hint of admiration evident in his voice. Leaning in, he brushes his nose against mine in a tender gesture before walking off towards the bathroom, leaving me watching after him with a mix of emotions swirling inside me. He moves with a quiet confidence, each step fluid and purposeful, making it impossible to look away.

After Dean exits the bedroom, I rake my fingers through my tousled hair and let out a quiet whimper of frustration. I could honestly just tear my hair right out from the roots. Anything to distract me from the tumultuous emotions whirring inside me. Shaking my head I leave the bedroom to go and check in on DJ who is surprisingly still asleep even through all the commotion. Well, it is almost ten o’clock and he’s often down for the night by nine.

Fuck me, I’m a mess and I’m in desperate need of a drink.

With that thought in mind, I make my way downstairs, each step a little victory against the chaos inside me. As I reach the dining room, I find Oscar hunched over the table, his gaze locked onto a bottle of beer. The turmoil brewing within me is reflected in the furrowed lines on his face, an unsettling mirror of my own distress.

A misstep sends a jolt of pain through my injured foot, and I let out an involuntary hiss. The sound breaks through Oscar's reverie, drawing his attention away from whatever dark thoughts he was entertaining—not that it would be too difficult to guess.

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