Page 143 of Give Me Redemption

“Give me the damn thing.” I pull it from her hands, and she lets go. Looking at my chest, she reaches up and I feel my brow furrow.

She slides Rocket’s dog tag out from under my shirt, running her fingers over it. “You’re brave, Jace. You’ve been through so much in your short life. Your brother is either going to understand or he’s not. But keeping us a secret has to be hurting you.

“I love you. You love me. I’ve had you for a little while, but I want more. I want it all.”

Her confession stretches throughout my whole body, wrapping me in warmth and has me wondering about forever.

I hold my hand over hers, drawing my thumb across her fingers. “I’ll tell him in my own time,” I say. “Let me do this my way.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Harlow

The ride to the ranch is nerve-wracking. I’m usually not a nervous person. I hold my own pretty well, but I hurt Jace and his brother. Now I’m going out to their family home. We pull up and Jace shuts the truck off.

The Great Danes, Doc and Holliday, run down the porch steps, barking with their tails wagging. I open my door and step out. They sniff and lick and I pat their heads. A loud whistle sounds from the porch and the dogs take off.

I see Lee Grant and nerves swim. I want these people to like me more than I’ve ever wanted anyone to like me.

Which has been few and far between.

I’ve always had the attitudeif you don’t like me for who I am, then that’s your problem.

Not mine.

But these people matter.

Jace walks around the truck, his hat frontward instead of its normal backwards. He’s in dark jeans, an unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt, showing off a crisp clean white T-shirt underneath. He’s boyishly handsome, but trust me, he’s all man.

The air is cooler, the flowers and trees slowly dying as fall moves in. Jace grabs my hand, and I know it’s his way of showing me he’s got my back. If they wanted, they could tell me to get off of their property. I know it’s been months since the bust, but I made some pretty deep cuts, leaving scars as a reminder.

I fucked over Bryce Grant. I used Jace Grant, and yet here I am.

“Pops,” he says as we near the porch. “This is Harlow.”

I give him a smile, my heart beating a little faster than I’d like it. Jace rubs my thumb with his.

“Glad to meet the real you,” Lee says.

“Glad to be here,” I reply.

“Emily’s in the kitchen. I’m going to have a smoke,” he says. “Y’all head on in.” He takes a seat in one of the rockers and pulls out a cigar.

Jace opens the door and we walk into the beautiful home. I feel lighter than I did the first time I walked through this door. I had a world of guilt on my shoulders back then, and now I’m free of that.

Jace looks down at me. “You all right?” he asks.

“Fine,” I say with a smile. I’m in jeans myself and slip-on shoes with a cream-colored sweater. My dark hair is pulled into a ponytail and I have my black-framed glasses on. Sometimes I look older than my age, but life will do that to you, I guess. I don’t really think anything of our age difference. It’s not that big of a gap. He’s in his late twenties; I’m in my early thirties. And even though Jace plays around, on the inside his soul is older than us both. He uses the jokes to cover up the pain he feels. He smiles to hide the blackness swarming inside of him.

But I can tell which smile is real and which is not. Like right now, he’s smirking and it’s honest. He’s happy that I’m here.

I hear dishes clank and smell food that makes my stomach growl.

“Emily’s a good cook,” Jace says.

“Just like you,” I reply. Jace can cook and has for me several times now. One of the many things I love about my guy.

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