Page 97 of Sweet Little Thing

“Photos of Wills,” Jasper replied. The challenge was there.

I looked up at Stone questioningly, but his glare was turned to Jasper. The fury blazed brightly in his expression, making it hard to inhale. Fear of what Stone would do began to unfurl inside me, but I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure what I would do if the standoff between Jasper and Stone turned physical. How would I stop them?

“Why?” The one word was simple, but the animosity behind it made me tremble.

Jasper shifted nervously. He knew Stone better than anyone. Stone’s reaction was one that Jasper had to have expected. And still, he’d walked into this building and brought the photos to me.

“She needs to know. You made sure she knew about all the lies surrounding my family and hers. It was time she knew the lies that surround you.”

Stone took a step toward him. His hands were balled tightly at his sides as the muscles in his forearms flexed in response. Veins stood out against his tan skin.

I was unable to breathe, much less speak or move. It was as if I were watching this in a dream that left me without control of my body. I was a bystander as it all unfolded around me.

“This is it?” Stone’s voice held no emotion, but the rage was there. Just underneath. “This is how you chose to end it?”

Jasper didn’t respond. There was silence. My eyes stayed on Stone. If he did lunge for Jasper, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I watched him waiting for the thin hold on his temper to snap.

Stone took another step toward Jasper. “You didn’t get what you wanted. And this was your answer.”

“It needed to end before she got hurt again.” Jasper soundeddefensive.

Stone’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched and shifted as he inhaled sharply through his nose.

Jasper was handling this poorly. Not that there could be a good outcome from his actions. But I should speak up. Maybe I could ask him about the boy. I needed to direct the attention on me, but I was frozen.

“I’m talking about the years of friendship. You were my family, Jasper. And this…this…” He pointed at the photos in my hand. “This is it? This is how you wanted to end it?”

Jasper wasn’t quick with a response. It didn’t matter because I couldn’t take my eyes off Stone. All I could see was the pain rising through his anger as Stone glared menacingly at Jasper.

“Were you going to tell her? No, you weren’t. You were going to hurt her the same way my mother did. She didn’t deserve that. This was me protecting her.”

“No, Jasper. This was you getting revenge like the spoiled child you still are,” Stone snarled with disgust. “Leave. Leave before I throw your sorry motherfucking ass out the nearest window.”

I didn’t expect Jasper to leave. My body was wound as tightly as it could get, preparing for the first strike. But Jasper stepped back. He turned away from Stone but stopped in the hallway in front of the stairs.

“She knows now. That’s what matters.” He’d lost his smug indignation.

“Leave!” Stone’s voice shook the windows.

I finally managed to tear my eyes off Stone to watch Jasper retreating. I still held the photos in my hand. As he stepped down to the top step, he glanced back at me. “You have my number.”

Stone turned and lunged at Jasper as I reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don’t.” I managed to choke out. “This isn’t about him.”

This wasn’t about Jasper. Stone felt betrayed. Although I should feel the same, my chest ached for him. Stone hadn’t been the one to tell me the Van Allan secrets. Jasper’s actions were different. He’d chosen to hurt Stone. He’d sought to cause pain. Stone had no real family, and he’d just lost trust in one of the people who he had been his chosen family.

When Stone turned to me, he looked defeated. The fury was gone, replaced by sorrow. He looked hollow. I wanted to hold him. Reassure him. But the photos in my hand hadn’t disappeared. The truth behind what I held still dangled out there between us.

“Is he yours?” I asked. Waiting wasn’t possible. As much as I hurt for Stone at this moment, I needed him to explain. To assure me he wasn’t a heartless man who allowed his son to be raised by a man who had abused him when he was a child.

“His mother was our maid. I was fifteen when my father hired her. She was young—always dressed in short skirts and tight tops. She seduced me and taught me all about sex. What happened between us wasn’t love. It was simply lust. She successfully lured and married my father at the same time we were having sex. I made her stop coming to me when they were married. One month after their wedding, she told me she was pregnant.”

Stone stopped speaking. He was lost in thought, his focus intense. A crease had taken up residence on his forehead—a direct result of the angry scowl on his face.

I didn’t say anything. Not able to move from where I stood, I simply waited.

“My father beat me from the time I was five years old until I towered over him at sixteen. I don’t mean with a belt. When I was small, he threw me on the ground by my hair and kicked me—held me up against the wall with his hand on my throat while I turned blue. Called me names no father should ever call a son.Broke my bones a few times, but I survived. As I grew, he threw fists at me. It didn’t get less violent. I had grown, so he used more force. I was harder to hurt.” He stopped and inhaled deeply before lifting his head. His expression was void of any emotion. It was an empty hole, and that broke me.

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