Page 55 of Mountain Freedom
“It’s purely selfish on my part,” I said. “I don’t want to sleep in there, where I’d be the first thing Russell sees if he breaks down the door. I’m sleeping in here, where you can protect me.”And where I can protect you, too.
Jackson might have been pushing me away, but I wasn’t going anywhere—not when it was clear he needed me, whether he realized it or not.
He opened his eyes and looked at me, then gave a begrudging nod.
“It’s settled, then.” I climbed to the top of the bed and wiggled down underneath the covers. “Goodnight, Jackson.”
“Goodnight, Allison.”
He reached over and took my hand in his. It was the first time I could remember him reaching for me like that. Usually, it was the other way around. I was the one always reaching out, needing to comfort and show I was there. Jackson usually kept his hands to himself.
But he reached for me, and we fell asleep that way, hand in hand—and neither of us had any more nightmares that night.
Warm sunlight wrappedthe room in a buttery glow when I woke the next morning, curled up in Jackson’s arms. He was sound asleep with a little smile on his face. He looked so full of peace that I hated to wake him. But even though it was a Saturday and I knew neither of us had to work, we couldn’t exactly stay in bed all day. Being in his bed was crossing a line. I couldn’t regret it though, if it meant him getting a peaceful night’s sleep.
It killed me that he was so haunted by the past. All these years later, Russell could still inflict pain without touching him at all. It wasn’t fair. Worse, there was nothing I could do about it.
Jackson’s words from the night before came back to me, stealing the smile from my face. He wanted to keep his distance so Russell would leave me alone and stop trying to hurt him through me. I understood that.
But I hated it.
Full of regret, I slipped out of his arms.
I padded into his kitchen, found the coffee pot, and started a strong pot to get us going for the day. We both had a lot to face, but there was no need to face it without coffee.
When Jackson came into the room, looking sleepy-eyed, with mussed-up hair and flannel pajama pants riding low on his waist, I didn’t really want coffee anymore. I wanted something else entirely, something I wasn’t allowed to have.
“Morning,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Good morning.” His eyes searched my face like he was looking for a sign that I was okay—thatwewere okay—after last night.
“I made coffee. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I could never mind that,” he said, giving me a small smile. “Listen, about last night. I’m sorry. About the nightmare, I mean. Sorry you had to see that.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad I was here. And I hope you slept better after.
“I did,” he said, appearing to choose his words carefully. “Allison, I—”
But he was cut off by his cell phone, which buzzed on the counter.
He looked at it and frowned. “It’s Greg.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jackson
Allison’s faceturned white and she leaned up against the counter, nervously rubbing the coffee mug in her hands. I answered the phone and listened to what Greg had to say, keeping my responses brief.
My stomach was in knots by the time Greg finished catching me up to speed. I felt a thousand emotions at once—anger, fear, grief. Emptiness.
I closed my eyes and took a moment to try to wrap my mind around it all before turning to Allison. “They got him.”
“Russell?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God,” she said. Her whole body sagged with relief..
