Page 41 of Haven

“You wanted me to come tonight?”

“Yes, I wanted you to come. But we don’t have to fuck. We can just...” He tightens his arm so my cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “We can just do this.”

His arms are strong and unyielding around me. His body is big and solid and warm. His slightly ragged breathing ruffles my loose hair. He smells like he had just as long a day as I’ve had.

I begin to shake.

He makes a wordless sound deep in his throat and tightens his arms around me even more. “It’s okay, kitten,” he murmurs against my ear. “It’s okay. We can just do this.”

My trembling intensifies. My chest and eyes ache so much I feel like they’ll break open. I’m on the verge of falling apart, and his arms are the only things holding me together.

“Jesus, Faith.” He’s got one of his hands fisted in my hair, holding on to a big handful of it. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You can let go a little. You’re allowed.”

I make a sound almost like a whimper. I’d normally be embarrassed by it, but I can’t think of anything except the way the whole world is shuddering violently and how Jackson is the only thing that’s holding still. I cling to him like a lifeline.

“You can cry if you want. There’s no one here but me. You can let go. You don’t always have to hold on so tight.”

I want to cry. I need to. The sob is about to rip its way out of my body, but it just can’t seem to find its way. It’s killing me, but I can’t seem to release it. I gasp and shake so much my teeth are chattering.

Jackson adjusts his hold so he can stroke my hair and back with one of his hands. “Shit, kitten. You’re killing me here. You can be invulnerable with everyone else, but you don’t have to be invulnerable here. Not here. Not with me.”

The sob finally makes its way through the block in my throat. Then to my eyes. And I’m suddenly crying uncontrollably. Helplessly. Like I haven’t cried since I was sixteen years old.

“It’s okay,” Jackson murmurs soft and urgent. He’s holding on to me tightly again as I sob against his chest. “It’s okay, kitten. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

It’s what I need to hear. And exactly the way I need to hear it. I cry about all of it. All of what I’ve lost. Every person I’ve loved. How whatever is left for me can be taken away at any moment. And how there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening.

But also how there’s so much more than the brokenness. Something I’d almost forgotten.

Jackson keeps holding me. Keeps murmuring thick assurances. He’s had a day from hell too, but he doesn’t try to pull away. Roll over and go to sleep.

Maybe in an unexpected way, Jackson needs this too.

It’s a thought that comforts me as the sobs finally die down and I’m sniffing and shaking with a few lingering whimpers.

Even then, he keeps his arms around me. And they’re still around me when I finally fall asleep.

***

ISLEEP THE ENTIREnight with him, waking just before dawn. He’s still asleep. He rolled over onto his back sometime during the night, and he’s stretched out with his lips slightly parted and one arm slung up over his head.

Every part of my body seems to ache, but I feel a lot better than I did the day before. My candle is still burning on the table. I shouldn’t have let it go all night. Candles are one thing we’re not short on, but it’s still a waste.

Jackson opens his eyes when I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Hey,” he rasps.

“Hey.” I feel strangely shy, which is ridiculous.

“Is it time to get up?”

“Just about.” When he keeps watching me, like he’s waiting for me to say something, I clear my throat. “Thank you. For last night, I mean.”

“You’re welcome. But you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“It feels like I do. It really helped. I...” I can’t quite meet his eyes.

It feels like his body gets suddenly tense. Expectant. “You what?”

“I needed it,” I admit.

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