Page 38 of Eight Years Gone

The selfie was from their shoulders up. It was impossible to tell, but he knew they were naked as they lay in her bed.

Grace’s skin was dewy, and her lips were still swollen from his. They had just finished making love.

Grace grabbed his phone off her side table, holding it up so they were both in the frame. “Smile.”

He did as she snapped the picture. “Are you moving your photographic interests to porn?”

She chuckled as she put the phone back, then settled herself on top of him, resting her arms on his chest the way she always did. “You already know porn’s not really my thing.”

She kissed his forehead. “Since we’re heading back to school tomorrow, I thought you should have something to look at during your Econ class—something fun to think about so you don’t fall asleep.”

He grinned, sliding his hands up and down the sides of her waist as she kissed the tip of his nose. “So, sitting in class with a hard-on is better than dozing off?”

She laughed, reaching for the phone again. “I can erase it.”

He stopped her by rolling her to her back, ready to heat Grace up all over again. “No way.”

They both chuckled as the phone rang. Logan again.

Jagger sighed as Grace did. “I should probably get that since I didn’t answer the first two times.”

Jagger shook his head as his stomach grew sick, remembering how the rest of the night played out after that. It had haunted him for nearly a decade.

Ready to be done with the past, he pressed the home button, bringing himself back to the original screen.

He moved his thumb to power off the phone but stopped as he stared at the small red circle alerting him to a message on the phone icon.

He swallowed as he clenched his jaw, well aware of what was there—Grace’s call that had come in while he sat on the colonel’s guest bed moments before he left.

Earlier that morning, he’d erased all the rest without listening, knowing that if he’d heard her voice, he wouldn’t have been able to get on the bus for boot camp.

Torturing himself, he selected the last call Grace had made and forced himself to listen.

“Jagger?”

He closed his eyes as he fisted his empty hand, hearing the pain and misery in her one word.

She sniffled. “Where are you, Jagger? If you’re at Colonel Hinders’, please stay there. I’m on my way now. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

She sucked in a quaking breath. “He’s gone. Logan’s really gone, and I need you. I need you to hold me. I need us to hold each other until everything feels all right again because right now, I’m not so sure it ever will.”

He leaned back against the couch cushion, loathing himself for hurting the delicate woman on the other end of the phone. The only woman he’d ever wanted to protect was the one he’d destroyed.

“I know my dad said things to you. I imagine he was terrible, but none of it’s true. Wherever you are, please call me. Please come home. I love you so much, Jagger.”

Then she hung up and never called him again because she eventually found out that he’d left her for good.

“You’re a first-class fucker,” he murmured as he gained his feet, unsure of what to do now that another layer of truth had been piled onto the rest.

He couldn’t have handled things worse if he’d tried. Just a few days ago, he’d seen red when he thought Ben had used his hands on Grace, but he himself had left invisible scars that would most likely never go away.

Heading to the dresser, he grabbed a pair of jogging pants and his running shoes, putting them on, needing to run until he could think straight.

How did he fix a mess he’d made so long ago? How could he possibly make things right?

Shutting the door behind him, he took off into the night, knowing that Grace had deserved so much better than how he ended things.

Ten

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