I just need to ensure that I can keep her safe.
ChapterSixteen
JESSICA
"I was angry.As much as I tried to push him away, Jer wouldn't leave. He didn't push into my life, but he would make the occasional appearance. I have a feeling he's the reason Maverick has been so present over the past six months," I say, raising a brow at my cousin.
Mav smirks. "No. You can thank this fucker," he says, nodding at Stephen. "We all know that he's been keeping his distance since you turned eighteen. He's a martyr. But he also ripped me a new one about not checking in on you."
My heart stutters at his words. First, that Stephen spoke to him about not checking in with me, but also because I hadn't realized that people knew that he wanted me. I guess it's a good thing they don't know it's been this way since I was fourteen.
"I'm very thankful you did," I say softly, giving him a smile. "Though, I didn't want you to feel pressured."
"I wasn't," he says as he takes a seat beside me, ignoring Stephen's glare. "The asshole was right. I should have been better at being involved in your life. Hell, we all should have been. But I'm glad I did. You remind me so much of Callie, how sweet and funny you are."
My smile brightens. "I'm guessing with you being around more, it was why Dad started to behave himself a lot more."
Maverick's eyes darken. "Good. That fucker shouldn't have touched you. How long has it been going on?" he asks me, his hands balled into fists, his knuckles white with the tightness of his grip.
"Since Mam died," I confess. “The past year has gotten better," I tell him, hoping to ease some of the anger clogging the air.
"That fucking cunt," Maverick snarls.
"He burnt her," Stephen reveals.
I pull in a ragged breath. "Stephen," I whisper, horrified that he told them.
"I know, baby, but fuck, they have to know all the facts," he says thickly. I can see the torment swirling in his eyes. "They have to know it all."
I swallow hard and nod. God, this is going to be hard. "Mam's funeral was the day he burnt me," I whisper. "He was angry, so angry."
"What happened?" Maverick questions as he gets to his feet, stepping away from the sofa.
"I went dancing," I tell them. "I needed to dance." I use dance as a way to release all of my emotions. It's the only way I know how to. "I met Stephen. He was meeting someone?—"
"Emmanuel," Stephen snarls. "I met with Emmanuel and saw Jess going into the dance studio. Her ma had just been buried, and I was curious as to why she was there."
"When I got home, Dad wasn’t there. I went to sleep and woke up to him pulling me from bed. He was so angry," I whisper, blinking furiously so as to not let the tears fall. "Someone told him that I had met with Stephen. He called me a whore." I shake my head. "He dragged me by my hair into the car. I couldn't stop him. He was too strong."
"Keep going, baby," Stephen says, his jaw tense and his eyes dark with anger. I know it's not directed at me, but at the father who was supposed to protect me.
I close my eyes as the memories of that night hit me. The smell of my burning flesh is something to this day that makes my stomach roll with nausea. "I was unconscious when he threw me into the car. I woke up to so much pain. It was so much fucking pain."
Within seconds I'm being lifted into the air. I already know it's Stephen. I lean into his body, loving the support he's giving me. His hand splays on my back as he sits down. "Continue," he rumbles, and the noise sounds as though it reverberated in his chest.
"He had his men watch," I whisper. "He used lighter fluid and set my back alight."
"Christ," Maverick hisses. "Christ, Jess, I'm so fucking sorry."
I shake my head. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do it to me."
"Was that the only time he did it to you?" Freddie asks. His voice is low, and I can hear the anger in it.
"No," I whisper, hating the way Stephen's body tenses. "It happened twice more."
"What else did he do?" Maverick asks.
"He would beat me. Whenever he was angry, he'd unleash his anger on me. As I said, that stopped last year." Something that I'm very grateful for, but I hate everything he's done instead of using his fists.