Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders (11 page)

She was about to cover herself back up with the robe when his hands draped over her body to rest on that spot just where the shoulder meets the arm. He was behind her and dipped his head to kiss around her scars.

Throat clearing in her ear forced her from the beloved memories. She opened her eyes to see deep blue pools simmering at her. “What exactly are you thinking about so intently, Bug?”

The blush spread across her face as quickly as fire spreads across dry grass. She lowered her head to her chin, but he turned onto his side, and lifted under her chin with his finger.

“I was just thinking about my first time.
Our
first time. In my room.”

He drew circles on her arm. “Do you remember what you asked me?”

“I asked if you’d want to be with me even with the scars.”

“That’s right, and what was my reply?”

“More than my next breath.”

“Exactly. That’s how it always was, and is, and will be with you.” He kissed her lips. “Tell me, what happened next?”

These were her private memories and she didn’t know if she wanted Jackson in her head. Who was she kidding? She wanted him everywhere, knew he would never use her precious thoughts against her.

“You kissed the scars. It was the first time I’d felt wanted”—she swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes—“the first time I felt needed.”

“What’d I say next?”

“You said I was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. And then I turned and was rewarded with my first kiss. It was spectacular. Your breath was mint flavored and your tongue wicked. I can still feel my heart beating as if it would leap from my chest, grow wings, and fly away.”

Jackson’s face erupted in a full face splitting smile and then he chuckled. “I love you. What I did next was very bad, but it’s always been complete consumption with you. I couldn’t even stop at gunpoint. You standing before me naked and sweetly innocent was paradise. I was no longer living in hell. Some might say that I took your innocence that night. But no, you stand before me like that every time and I swear it’s as if I’m seeing you for the very first time all over again.”

“I was hoping you were going to say, two years later, I fulfill your every desire and fantasy.”

“God, you do that and so much more.”

“That makes me feel better. I’d like to think I’d learned something in my promiscuous two years.”

His poor beaten face frowned at her and she felt her eyes widen at the implication. “What?”

“You’re not promiscuous. I need to make an honest woman of you. Should have already. I’m not a very good person. I’m extremely selfish.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant, but if I were inherently good I would have stopped after the first time.”

It was her turn to frown. “The first time was no fun for me.” She smiled, unable to prevent it. “The second and third times were unbelievable.”

His fingers enclosed her earlobe. “I’m sorry I hurt you at the tender age of sixteen.”

“Jackson, you didn’t hurt me. You were helping me. I felt undesirable. I didn’t think any man would ever want me but you proved that not to be true. I needed everything you had to give me in that moment.”

His fingers massaged where they rested. “I know. And trust me, it was incredible. I’ll never forget how you fully gave yourself to me, unselfishly. Your trust, your purity …” he couldn’t finish his statement because he gasped and choked.

“Jackson?”

“Tell me what
you
remember about the first time.”

Why did he want to know? It was erotic, painful, scary, wonderful. He’d think she was crazy.

His fingers traced a line down her arm from her shoulder to her knuckles. “Please, tell me.”

At his pleading she was helpless. “I remember being scared, but I trusted you with every part of myself. I knew you wouldn’t take and not give.”

“I could never hurt you. It kills me to think I did that night.”

“You didn’t. Joy and pleasure are the only memories I’ve ever had of that night because my heart stopped bleeding.

“Tell me in detail.”

She exhaled on a sigh. This was tough. “Well, you carried a naked me to my pink princess canopied bed. Then you caressed and kiss every inch of my body. Your tongue licked from my hip to my knee. I was drowning in your attentiveness. I became lost in you and I still haven’t recovered.”

He pulled her palm to his lips and kissed, followed by a wince. “And I reap all the benefits.” He smiled contentedly. “Continue.”

“So bossy. Where was I?”

“I licked from your hip to your knee.”

“Oh right, then I think it was about discovering how to make me …” she coughed into a closed fist.

His eyes simmered at her and he grabbed her hand to kiss the tips of her fingers. “It was the first time I tasted you.”

She thought she had died during her accident or some time after at the hospital, and then gone to heaven. His mouth on her felt so good. “Then I experienced my first orgasm and fell in love with you and your wicked tongue all over again.”

He chuckled and kissed her, his
wicked tongue
sliding into her mouth and tangling with hers. At the end of their kiss he held her face in his palms. “The gifts you’ve given me are more precious than anything I could ever give you in return, but I’m resolved to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy.”

“Jackson.” Her voice came out whispered.

“Don’t argue here, Clara. It’s true you gave me everything, and continue to do so.”

She didn’t know what exactly he was talking about. Her innocence, the fact that she’d only ever had sex with him, loved him, kissed him. She’d trusted him that night that seemed so long ago. Not just with her body, but her mind, spirit, soul, everything. He’d been so gentle with her, whispering the sweetest things in her ear about how wonderful she felt wrapped around him. As far as first times go she’d had a great one. She’d hold tightly to those memories for a lifetime.

Her cell phone buzzed beside her on the bed. She checked the screen. “It’s Eve.” She pressed to answer the call.

“Hey, how’s everything?”

“Things are a little bumpy. How’s Jackson?”

“He’s better.”

“Please tell him I’m so sorry about all this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I should have told Clay about your relationship with Jackson when I found out the day of the wedding. He could have cooled down during the honeymoon and maybe this would have never happened.”

“Eve, please don’t blame yourself. You don’t know that. It could have ruined your honeymoon.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Can I please speak with Clay?”

“He’s not here. He went for a walk, said he’d be back much later.” She exhaled dejectedly into the phone.

“Awe Eve, I’m sorry. Please let me know if I can do anything.”

“Goodbye, Clara.”

She sniffled and darn it all, a tear fell. She didn’t want to cry anymore. At eighteen years of age why should she feel guilty about her relationship with Jackson?

“Bug, what is it?”

“I’m just sorry Eve got dragged into the fray. They’re newlyweds. Their only concern should be if they’ve eaten and showered in the last two days.

He laughed. “You’re such a funny little thing and the only person who can make me laugh.”

“I know.”

“What is it that you know?”

“That you like to laugh at me. You hardly ever smile and you laugh even less unless it’s the occasional laugh at me.”

“Not at you, because of you.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

“You’re my reason for living, Bug. There’s a huge difference.”

Chapter 11

The morning after
his beating Jackson looked at himself in the mirror and realized he was the monster that stared back. The swelling had diminished, but the bruises and cuts were nasty.

Clay had called. He wanted to take Clara to breakfast. From what he could glean of the conversation Clara had with him he’d made it clear Jackson was not to attend. Martyr that she was, she refused to go without him. It caused another ripple when he tried to convince her to go alone. She’d cried and they’d become frustrated with one another. He was willing to drop her off and wait while she spoke with her brother. Then she’d gone and made perfect sense with her amazing insight—they had to stand together or they’d be torn apart. Why then did it still feel like there was a wedge between him and the rest of her family? She was stuck somewhere between the two—between Jackson and her family. It wasn’t fair to her.

Clara had fretted all night long about Eve. She felt guilty about bringing dishonesty to the newlyweds. She’d cried herself to sleep in Jackson arms as she mourned for her relationship with Clay. She may not understand it, but he knew that’s why she cried.

He thought about the situation in reverse—if he’d had a baby sister and some older guy had taken advantage of her. How would he handle it? Just exactly the same way Clay had. He wouldn’t believe a guy his age would have honest intentions with a girl of eighteen. He cringed when he thought of what he’d done with her when she was sixteen. What was wrong with him? What he’d done was considered rape. That thought had been eating away at him. What they had wasn’t born of a crime. It was honest and pure. Always had been. He knew it all those years ago when he himself was seventeen. She’d been the only one he could talk to about his parents.

Over the years their connection had become intense. When she hit puberty he backed off because at fifteen she’d been beautiful and he’d been attracted to her then. But then she’d needed him after her accident. When she’d stood there naked, revealing all of her vulnerabilities, all he’d meant to do was reassure her and make her confident of her beauty.

Their lives grew entwined like vines. Once they came together in that carnal way their fates sealed and it became impossible to untangle himself from her—they’d become one root. Their physical and emotional strength grew, nourished by the love and need they fulfilled in one another.

With the first touch of his lips to her silky skin he knew he would never be able to pull away without a taste. A taste led to a touch that led to a need for them both. He’d needed to be connected to her on an innate primal level and she’d needed the same. When they came together it was like he’d been reborn. He had her and everything she brought with her—purity, innocence, and truth. He no longer felt alone, but part of something huge that grew from a tiny seed into an all-encompassing tree of life that he needed to survive. She needed the shelter and shade that tree offered just as much as he did.

“Let’s go get some beignets.” She sidled up to him in the bathroom and made eye contact through the mirror. He’d been so deep in thought her bright morning demeanor had startled him a little.

“Okay so no beignets. What would you like?”

He wanted to not be the albatross around her neck. He was the source of all the problems in her life. “Beignets are good.” His voice was unsteady.

She frowned at him. He tugged her out of the bathroom and gathered his wallet and the hotel keycard.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

They walked to the familiar green and white striped awning. It was early so the lines weren’t long just yet. At the window he placed their order.

“Two orders: one no sugar. Two coffees, au lait.”

He heard Clara’s deflating sigh and turned to see the source of her discomfort. Clay and Eve appeared under the awning. She gripped his arm firmly and said, “Wait here.”

He watched Clara approach as if she were a deer and her brother a lion. Every move she made deliberate. Every move he made stilted. While he waited for his order he watched them. Not much was happening, but then he saw Eve look at Clay anxiously and then she worried her bottom lip in her teeth. Clara’s hands fisted at her sides as Clay shook his head in disdain.

Jackson was sore and he felt it when he tensed. He carried their coffees in to-go cups stacked one on top of the other in one hand, and two bags of beignets in the other. There was a free table not far from where they stood, so he set his course for it. After he set down the breakfast items he took his stand next to Clara.

“Good morning.” He extended the olive branch. “Won’t you please join us?” He gestured indicating his table.

“We were just leaving.” Clay broke the branch in half. He tugged Eve’s arm, pulling her in front of him and urging her forward with a hand to the small of her back. He turned to Clara, “I meant what I said.”

Clara ran after him. “No. Please.” She tugged on his meaty hand. “Please stay.” He pulled his hand free and moved forward with purpose. She watched his retreating back for a while. When she turned, her face was a mess—red and blotchy from tears and frustration.

Jackson placed his arm around her and she leaned into his side as they slowly made their way back to the table. She blew her nose with a napkin and sipped her coffee. “What did he say, Bug?”

Her eyes, large and luminous, stared at him without blinking.

“Tell me.”

Biting her lip she shook her head, resolved to leave him in the dark.

“I need to know what I’m up against here. I need you to tell me.”

She closed her eyes tight and spoke, “He said he wasn’t going to sit idly by and watch me make a mistake that could ruin my life.”

Jackson’s breath hitched and his skin prickled. He’d thought of Clay as a brother, a friend. He knew Clay would be mad about their deception, but he never thought he’d think of Jackson as a mistake. The thing of it was, Clay was absolutely right. Jackson knew
he
would be Clara’s biggest mistake.

≈

They spent the rest of that weekend taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of New Orleans. Clara changed the subject whenever Jackson mentioned Clay, but her brother’s words were singed onto his brain. Jackson couldn’t remember New Orleans ever feeling so drab. His demeanor was anything but festive and at odds with the environment surrounding him—no matter what was going on in his private life, the city’s pulse didn’t cease. It had become as irritating as an ingrown hair. He breathed a sigh of relief when they’d finally loaded up the car and were headed back home.

“Do you remember when you started calling me Bug?”

“Of course.”

“You said it was because I was like a gnat.”

“At the time you were. You’d hover around me constantly, making sure I’d come down for meals, and you forced me to interact. I couldn’t get rid of you no matter what I did.”

“You were so mean. I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you. I loved you even when I was mad at you because you never gave up on me.”

“And you were there for me when no one else was.”

He stroked her head. “They wanted to be there.”

She smiled and looked down, shielding her eyes from his view. “I know, but it was you.
You
saved my life. It’s always been you Jackson. Since I was seven-years-old. ”

Seven and seventeen. His life stopped the day his parents died. It restarted the day he and Clara came together. Would anybody believe she’d saved him and he unreservedly loved her? Would they listen as they told their story? Or would their future be destroyed by anger and hate?

“I think if Clay and the rest of my brothers knew how deep our connection ran they’d understand.”

He disagreed. In fact, he thought they’d respond just as Clay had. The evidence was quite damning: he’d had sex with their baby sister when she was sixteen and he twenty-six. That’s all anyone would see when they looked at them. And he shouldn’t be forgiven for what he’d done.

To make matters worse he was attempting to cling to her for the rest of his life. He wanted to bind her to him so deeply that there would be no way to sever their connection, but it wasn’t fair to her.
It wasn’t fair to her
. She hadn’t lived her life. She hadn’t discovered who she wanted to be, what she wanted to be. She’d sacrificed, put off her hopes and desires to stay with him as he pursued his medical degree. If he truly loved her wouldn’t he want her to pursue culinary school and maintain a strong connection to her family? If he loved her he would set her free. The more he thought about it, the more he knew what his next move had to be. And he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

≈

Jackson spent the rest of the ride home going over different scenarios in his head trying to come up with something that didn’t make him out as the bad guy. He imagined himself as a thirty-five-year old brother of six with an eighteen-year-old sister. Then his mind conjured up a faceless twenty-eight-year old man, a man that was living with his sister and wanted to propose marriage. A man that had taken her innocence at the age of sixteen. Every scenario had the same ending—he was a gangrenous limb that needed to be severed in order to save her future.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Cracker Jack. What’s going through that head of yours?” Clara reached across the gearshift and clasped his hand in hers.

He was a mistake that could ruin her life.
You are dead to me.

Clay’s words had never been clearer. Jackson wouldn’t come between Clara and her family. There would be nothing he could say to make her understand why they had to breakup, but he’d save her from herself. She could find a thousand guys to marry her—most of them better off than he was, but she only had one family. Family was irreplaceable.
Irreplaceable.
No one knew as well as Jackson just how true that statement was. If they were to stay together she’d grow to hate him for taking her family away from her. He was the reason she hadn’t attempted to make her dreams a reality. She should be at cooking school. What he had to do was going to hurt them both.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

He exhaled long and loud. “I was thinking you should attend that culinary school in Texas.

“We’ve been over this before. I would do it only if I could still see you every day. Since that’s not possible I’m not interested. Besides, I have new goals. One day I hope to open my very own artisan cheese shop. I’m going to have cheeses that people can only find at my shop.”

The cheese shop idea was a good one for her. She was filled with knowledge of all things cheese. He loved how passionate she became when she regaled him with the history of the cheese they consumed. She’d get a little wrinkle on her forehead while she deliberated over flavor and made her judgments.

It would kill him to let her go.

“Jackson?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re different. I’ve seen you moody, but that usually fades away once we’re together.”

He pulled their clasped hands to his lips and kissed her thumb. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what she saw in him. He was a moody difficult bastard. In spite of all that he was she’d loved him

“It’s complicated. Your brother, my former friend and brother, my link to the only family I’ve got, is no longer part of who I am. It’s only a matter of time before you’re issued the same ultimatum.”

“What ultimatum?”

“He said I was dead to him.”

“Yes, but in time he will come to see our love for one another.”

A cynical laugh started soft in his throat and deepened, but he couldn’t stop it, even when he saw the hurt look on her face. She turned away from him to look out the window as his laughter became intermittent giggling and then slowly subsided. “It’s never going to happen. But I do appreciate your naiveté.”

Nothing was said after that. They drove in silence for forty-five minutes. He pulled into their complex and followed her into the apartment. He closed the door and said, “I think we should try and take a break from each other.”

She turned swiftly and stared, unblinking, into his eyes. Her face slowly contorted into a frown. “I don’t want to try that.”

“I need some space so I’m asking you to stay at your apartment for a while.” His jaw clenched so hard he gave himself a toothache.

“You need space?” She sighed. “From me?” Her words came out in a tortured whisper.

His thumb scratched across his brow. “I need distance from … everything.”

“Everything?” Her voice cracked.

He closed his eyes and nodded. “Life is out of control. This relationship is much harder than I thought it would be. Managing work, school, and us … I just can’t keep up with the pace.” As much as it killed him he felt his resolve take hold and clamp down, turning his face and body to stone. It was the same feeling he got when he dug in to save a dying man in the emergency room, or when he pedaled his bike with all his might to overtake a car on top of the Horace Wilkinson Bridge.

She gulped air through unshed tears. “It’s been hard, but the one thing I’ve remained sure about in any of this is
you … us …
you’ll never convince me that you haven’t felt the same.”