Page 30 of Dear John

He grinned, then leaned in close. “Beg. Get down on your fucking knees and beg.” He shrugged and started to walk away. “If that doesn’t work, we can always take her to a museum.”

“Why a museum?” I called out.

“Because when she sees how pathetic you are when I toss a mummy at you, she won’t be able to be angry!”

I grimaced, not liking the sound of that at all. “Beg it is.”

I sat swingingon Isla’s porch in the dark, still arguing with myself about what was the right thing to do. Despite Cash being a total dick, I knew the pain of not being able to do a damn thing to quell the rage growing inside. I had escaped to the military, but Cash…he’d already been there and done that. His only outlet for his rage was revenge.

But at what cost?

The question played on repeat in my head as I stared into the darkness, searching for answers. So much was at risk, and if I did what I knew Cash would want, that would mean putting myself in the spotlight and going back to the fake life I hated.

The door creaked open and Isla stepped out, wrapping her sweater around her chest as she stepped outside. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, only a few strands of red curly hair peeked out, blowing in the slight breeze. She sat beside me, pulling her feet up and resting her head on her knees as she looked at me.

“Have you decided?”

I shook my head, staring into her beautiful green eyes. But they weren’t as full of life as they once were, and it wasn’t because she had woken up in the middle of the night. Yes, she was tired, but this was from weeks of not sleeping well. I hadn’t seen it at first. I’d taken her word for it when she said she was okay, but slowly, I saw the fear shining bright when she woke upin the middle of the night. She always said she was fine, and I chose to believe her.

But shadows didn’t lie. The deep bruising around her eyes from nights on end of terrible sleep was proof enough. Lingering fear edged into her eyes every now and then, and it was there now. She’d woken again from a nightmare, but I wasn’t there because I was out here, having a moral dilemma instead of taking care of the one person who needed me most right now.

How could I leave her? This wasn’t my battle, no matter how much Cash was my family. I had to look out for Isla because she was the most important person in my life at the moment. She was hurting, and if I chose to take on this mission, it would mean putting her in constant danger. How much longer before she broke? And would I be there to pick up the pieces, or would the job keep me from helping her through it?

I shook my head, decision made. Brushing my fingers through the escaped tendrils of hair, I tucked them behind her ear and smiled. “Let’s go to bed.”

She bit her lip, fear worming its way into her eyes again.

“Isla, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“Of course,” she said, plastering a smile on her face.

“You’re not okay, are you?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but she must have seen it on my face—the worry, the shame in myself for not being here. She took my hand in hers and glanced down at our linked fingers. “I’m trying to be.”

Fuck, that just about broke my heart. I pulled her into my arms with a heavy sigh, sliding my hand up and down her back. I was so fucking stupid for not seeing it sooner. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do,” I said fiercely. “This is all my fault. If I had just been here?—”

“Stop,” she said instantly, pulling back from me. “We’re not going to do this. It’s over.”

It might be over, but the pain was still lingering, and it was my fault for not being here—for lying to her and making things more difficult than they had to be.

“I’m not taking the offer.”

Her face was a mixture of confusion and relief. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to. I’m needed here and?—”

“No, stop this right now,” she snapped. “You will not turn down jobs because you feel you have to babysit me. I’m okay. Yeah, things freak me out from time to time, but I will be fine.”

“Isla—”

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