More of You (Confessions of the Heart 1)

“Don’t go using my words against me, girl.”

“It’s the only defense I have.” Faith winked, and her mom just grinned.

God.

I roughed an uncomfortable hand through my hair and dropped my eyes to the ground.

Suddenly, I felt like I was overstepping.

Out of bounds.

Getting into things I knew better than to get involved in.

This wasn’t why I was here.

The problem was, I was starting to forget the reason. Hell, I was pretty sure the second I’d touched her last night, every single one of those reasons had flown out the window.

When I looked back up, Faith had disappeared down the hall in the direction of her old room, Bailey rambling about needing to get her Beast.

My heart stuttered when I found her mother standing there staring at me.

“Well, Jace Jacobs.”

Unease bounded through my nerves.

She’d always been too warm. Too nice. It made me feel like I’d let her down, too.

“Now, don’t go lookin’ at me like that.”

Confusion had my brow twisting, and I was barely able to get the question out. “How’s that, ma’am?”

Yup. There I was. A stammering, seventeen-year-old kid.

She eyed me seriously. “Like you don’t belong here.”

She reached out, and a shiver raced down my spine when she pinched my chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look at her. “You look up with your head held high. Strong like you are.”

My throat locked up.

“You think I didn’t always know it?” she asked, her voice soft and somehow hard as she craned her head to the side. “The man you are inside? The rest of the world might have been blind to it. The rest of the world might have wanted to beat it down and hold it back. But I saw it right there, burnin’ from your bones.”

“I’ve done some things I’m not exactly proud of.” Couldn’t keep the admission from sliding free.

She gave a slight nod. “Haven’t we all. And it’s a real man who admits when he makes a mistake. Does his best to make it right. Is that what you’re here to do? Make it right? Only a real man would come in the middle of a mess as monumental as this one. I see you, stepping in and putting yourself in danger for the sake of them both. That . . . that is what counts. There is no better judge of character than the sacrifice a man is willing to make.”

There was a gleam in her eyes.

God damn it. If I wasn’t already crumbling at Faith’s feet, her mother sure has hell would have had me a puddle on the floor.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure they are safe. To make this right.” At least I could give her that truth.

“Good.” She straightened herself out. “Because you damned near broke my heart as much as you broke hers when you walked away.”

Surprise sent my head rocking back, and she turned and started for the kitchen, muttering the whole way, “You were the one, you know? You were always the one. Almost went and found you myself and dragged you home where you belonged.”

I didn’t even know if she meant for me to hear it.

Faith and Bailey were suddenly at the end of the hall, Bailey dragging her suitcase behind her, that ratted Beast hooked in her elbow. “I’s ready!”

“Not yet, you’re not.” It was a shout from the kitchen. “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you show up here and not feed you, did you? Late lunch is on the table. It’s family time. Don’t care how busy y’all are. Time to put some food in those bellies.”

Faith jerked her face to me, worry written all over her expression.

I angled my head, smiled, and then followed her into the kitchen.

It was the same way as I had that day so long ago. Though, this time, I did it the way Margot told me to do.

With my head held high.

Because her mother was right. It was time I made amends. Did things right.

I scooped Bailey into my arms. Her head was lolling to the side, half asleep at the table where we’d sat for the last three hours while Margot had filled her head with stories of Faith growing up.

Lightness filled me in a way it hadn’t in so damned long. A comfort like none other. Imagining Faith that way. A little girl like Bailey. Picturing her through the years that had passed, as she’d grown and learned and loved.

Shined.

Filling the world with all her light.

It almost made it feel like the menace lurking in the shadows wasn’t real. Like she could shine a little more and every single shadow would be exposed as nothing more than a vapor.

That’s what I wanted. For all this shit to disappear so we could move on. Figure out who we were and if we could make it without anything else interfering.