Page 88 of Redemption
“MJ—” My voice breaks. I want to reach out and hold her—to tell her she is loved—but I don’t think she would be receptive to it.
She shakes her head. “No, Hayes. It’s okay. I’ve accepted where I stand with my family, but when I’m older, I’ll change things. I’ll make my own family, and I won’t accept anythingless than love.” She sighs, then finally looks at me. “You wanted to talk, so let’s get this over with.”
It’s a concession I haven’t earned, one she’s giving in a moment of weakness.
“We don’t have to. I was selfish to ask—to demand.”
Weariness settles into her shoulders. “I’m tired, Hayes—tired of feeling like I have no one on my side. I want someone on my side.”
My boots are loud against the porch as I step toward her, going slow in case she wants to escape. She doesn’t move—doesn’t breathe—until I’m standing in front of her, and her back is pressed against the house. I lift my hand, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting my fingers linger on the strands. “Baby, I’ll be your whole team if you’ll let me. I know I let you down before, and I’m so sorry for that. You’ll never know how sorry I am, but I’m here now—let me be here.”
Her eyes flick between mine, and I see the answer before she gives it. My chest aches like someone took a sledgehammer to it. “I—I can’t.”
My hands fall from her hair, and I shove them in my pockets. I school my face, trying to hide my disappointment. It’s not her fault I screwed up. She must read it anyway because she says, “Maybe we can be friends?”
I can’t sit still. I might explode if I do, so I pull one hand out, shoving it through my hair. “Yeah, MJ. We can be friends.”
Even if it’s the last thing I want to be.
Chapter 27
Mallorie Jade
My leg bounces up and down, rattling Hayes. He claps his hand over my knee, stopping it, and I don’t bother looking at him when I stick out my tongue. He lets out a dark chuckle, low and deep, and with his hand on my knee, it’s impossible to hide the shivers that pebble my skin.
We are just outside Benton Falls and, after that, five minutes from his house, according to him.
I don’t know why, but despite our verbal agreement to be friends and the whole day we spent together, this is the thing that makes it real.
I’m choosing to ignore the part where he declared that I will be his one day—too messy.
Squirming in my seat for the hundredth time, I watch trees pass by my window. Hayes’s hand tightens on my knee when we pass the Benton Falls welcome sign, and my heart rate ticks up to a mile a minute.
We pull onto a familiar street, and I whip my head toward him.
“This is where my house is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, and the guilty look on his face makes me nervous. “What are you hiding, Hayes?”
He keeps his gaze on the road, his dark brows narrowing. “Just remember you wanted to see it.”
I open my mouth to ask him what he means by that, but then his truck stops in front of a house from my memories.
“What are we doing here, Hayes?”
His hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing. “This is—uh—my house.”
My mouth pops open. “Stop playing, no it isn’t.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not playing.”
I should close my mouth. Mom says it’s my worst look, but I can’t.
This house is everything I remember, and at the same time, it’s not. The porch is no longer falling apart, and the siding gleams with new white paint. Black rocking chairs sit on the porch, surrounded by pots of fresh flowers. The wooden shutters tie the picture together, making it warm and welcoming.
“Why?” I stutter, the word getting stuck on my tongue.
“Because even when you were gone—even after everything that happened—I wanted it to be you and me. I wanted to give you that family that laughed and loved— I wanted to be your family. So I bought the house because I was holding on to a future we both gave up.”
Pain, sharp and sudden slices through me. When I lost my brother, I didn’t just grieve him, but everything else I lost too, because I knew that life couldn’t carry on as normal for me.
