Page 24 of Jaded Soul

“It’s okay, Rowan,” he soothes as he sets me down in front of his bike. “I shouldn’t have bombarded you like that. You can tell me when you’re ready.” I nod. “But for now, do you trust me?”

“Of course,” comes my broken, scratchy response.

Jett cups my face in his hand, tilting my head up so he can press a kiss to my forehead. He lingers there, humming in approval. The vibrations rattle through me from head to toe, finally breaking me out of my daze.Jett’s here. He came for me.

"Thank fuck," he replies, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "I know I let you down but I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Starting with getting the hell out of here."

With that, Jett climbs on his bike and motions for me to get on the back. I do, scooting up closer and closer to Jett and clinging to him with what little strength I have left.

“What happened to your wrists? Your hands? You’re bleeding,” he says, his voice filled with concern.

"Oh, sorry," comes my automatic response as I retract my arms from around his torso. "Did I get anything on you? I can hold on to the bike instead–"

“I don’t give a shit about staining my clothes,” he barks out. I tense up, holding my hands at my sides until I know how to proceed. “Sorry,” he says more softly this time. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just… I’m so disappointed in myself for not being there for you. I hate that you’re hurt and bleeding because of me.”

Jett carefully grasps my hands and places them around his torso, encouraging me to hold onto him. I do, pressing my face into his back and breathing in his familiar leather and spice scent.

“We’re home, beautiful,” Jett says. “You can let go now. Let’s get you inside”

I open my eyes, surprised to find that we’re parked in Jett’s driveway. I hardly remember the ride here, though I know it must have been at least thirty minutes.

Jett carefully peels one of my arms off his torso, then the other, holding out his hand to help me off his bike. I sway a bit, my head still pounding from everything I just went through. Jett is next to me in an instant, wrapping an arm around me and tucking me into his side. He half walks, half carries me inside, and leads me to the bathroom.

Without a word, Jet starts undressing me, his eyes roaming over every inch of my body. It’s not a lustful look, however. He’s assessing me for damage. Each time he discovers a new scrape or bruise, he winces and looks ashamed.

When I’m completely naked, I place a hand over Jett’s heart. “It’s not your fault,” I tell him. I can tell he’s about to protest, but I continue before he has a chance to say anything. “Remember when you told me it wasn’t my fault when that man threw a rock through the diner window? You said those were his actions and his choices, even if he was acting on behalf of my father.”

“But..”

“So by that logic, this isn’t your fault, Jett. My dad made his choices. If you hadn’t shown up, he was going to…” Jett cups my chin, lifting it up so I can meet his gaze. “He w-was going to sell me in return for cocaine.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jet grunts. He tilts his head up and takes a deep breath in, blowing it out toward the ceiling. He’s shaking with anger, though I know it’s not directed at me. “I should have been there to stop it. I should have gone after your father sooner. I should have–”

I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss him to stop his rambling. Jett curls his arms around my back and pulls me closer, sinking into this kiss. It's slow and tender like he's treasuring everything about me.

When we break apart, I tug at his shirt, signaling for him to take it off. I get to work on his belt while Jett toes his boots off. He turns on the shower, testing the water before guiding me inside.

The steam from the hot water instantly relaxes muscles I didn't even know I was tensing. Jett positions me under the stream and then pours out some body wash into his hand. He takes his time lathering me up, his tender touch healing my wounds in more ways than one.

He silently urges me to turn around, and I'm surprised when the giant, muscled, powerful man covered with tattoos and scars begins washing my hair. He gently massages my scalp and then combs his fingers through my hair as he rinses the shampoo away. Next comes the conditioner, which he applies with the utmost care. He's so sweet, so good with me, and so completely focused on my safety and comfort, that I start crying.

I hardly realize I’m sobbing until Jett spins me around and cradles me against his chest. I burrow into him, finally feeling athome once he tucks my head under his chin and wraps me up in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, stroking my back in a calming gesture. “I’m right here. Let it out, Rowan.”

Endless rivers of tears stream down my face and I tremble in Jett’s hold, but he never lets me go. My man whispers soothing words into my ear while rocking me back and forth, promising me all kinds of things I hope he means.

When I’m all cried out, Jet holds my face in his hands, those green eyes locked on mine. “You’re so precious to me, Rowan,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened today. I’m sorry I was put in the position to kill your father, but I’d make that choice again if I had to. I just hope you don’t see me as a monster because of it.”

“What?” I gasp in surprise. I lean back slightly, breaking his hold on me. Shame swims just beneath his green gaze. “Jett, I’m not upset with you at all. My father had more than earned a bullet in his head. He’s had it coming for a long time. There was no other choice. He was never going to stop chasing me.”

“He’s still your father. That has to mean something. It’s okay if you have mixed emotions.”

I consider his words, searching my thoughts for what I truly feel in this moment. “Honestly… does it make me a terrible daughter if all I feel is… relief? God, that’s such a horrible thing to say.”

"Not at all, angel," Jett reassures me. He starts washing himself up with the body wash and I help, running my hands over the contours of his muscles. "The way he treated you isn't the way a father should treat his daughter. It's not how a man treats a woman, period. I wish I could undo all of the harm and pain he's caused, but I can't. All I can do is promise to cherish you and love you the way you deserve."

“Love?” I whisper, peering up into his mesmerizing emerald eyes.

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