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Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

Page 87

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Shit. She’d probably been tossed in the back of a similar van only to emerge in a nightmare of epic proportions. “It’s all right,” Izzy told the quaking girl. She kept her hands fisted so she wouldn’t reach out and wrap her arms around the poor child. She was smaller than the others. Probably the twelve-year-old. “No one will hurt you anymore. I swear it on my life.”

She pointed to where Jig and Zach waited, well off to the side, masks on. “Those men are the good guys, honey. They only want to help and get you far away from what hurt you. They won’t be in the van. One guy will drive, but I will be the only one with you in the back of the van. Just me. Okay?”

Lower lip quivering, the girl finally nodded and followed her new family borne of tragedy into the van. Each girl walked with a stiff posture as though sore. Some hobbled along with a hitch in their step Izzy refused to think about too deeply. Her heart ached with each step they took, and when the last girl was in the van, she turned to Rocket. “Give me a minute?”

“Sure,” he said, assessing her closely. Too closely.

Izzy stepped around the side of the van, out of sight of all the men and leaned her forearms against the cold metal, dropping her head to her chin. A beachball-sized lump lodged in the center of her throat and tears puddled in the corners of her eyes. The sensation of a thick rubber band wrapping around her chest kept her from drawing air, and she sucked in short, shallow breaths.

How could anyone…?

She shook her head. This wasn’t a situation she was equipped to deal with. Not something she knew how to process. This was the greatest depth of human depravity. How did one move on smiling day after day with firsthand knowledge of these acts?

Strong arms closed around her waist, and an immediate feeling of safety surrounded her. After the argument in the car, Jig was the last person she expected to attempt to support her. She wanted to sink into his embrace and let him erase the past hour of her life.

But it would only draw her closer to being dependent on him and thus make the eventual crash and burn that much more devastating.

Straightening, Izzy sniffed, wiped any errant moisture from her eyes and stepped out of his embrace. The moment she was free of him, she felt the weight of loneliness collapsing down on her.

Proof of why she had to do this. Now, she could control the situation. Choose to be alone and on her own. Later? If he left, after she dared let herself love him, she’d never survive that fall. “Hey,” she said, squaring her shoulders and turning to face him.

Eyes grim, scar prominent, mouth flat, hair mussed from the mask that he’d removed, he looked about as wrecked as she felt. “You did a good thing for those girls, sweetheart. You were right, they never would have come with us.”

Not the “sweethearts.” It was hard enough to stay strong without the endearment.

She nodded. “Thanks. I’m, uh, going to ride to the shelter with Rocket.” Sticking her hands in her back pockets, she tried to act like her insides weren’t crumbling to dust.

“I heard. Want me to tag along?” He stepped closer, and she took one back. If he touched her again, she might crack and lose herself in his arms.

“Nah, I promised them none of you would come along. We’ll be good.”

One of his eyes twitched, and she had the distinct impression he was biting off what he really wanted to say. “Okay. I’ll wait for you at the clubhouse.”

She could do this. Just had to spit it out. “Look, Jig…”

He sighed and dropped his head as though he’d been expecting it.

“Don’t do it, Izzy,” he said, stepping forward and sliding his palms up her arms until he cupped the balls of her shoulders. “I’m sorry for my reaction in the truck earlier. I was a real asshole. Please don’t let it ruin this.”

“This?” she asked once again, stepping away. Every time he put his hands on her, her body reacted, wanting more. She’d never have the guts to get the words out if he kept touching her. “Come on, Jig. Neither of us is cut out for this. We agreed on that from the start. Better to end it now, make a clean break. No messiness.”

No chance for you to crush my heart. Except with every word that fell from her lying mouth, she carved a little chunk out of her own heart.

“Iz, you’re upset about today. Rightfully so. Anyone would be. Let me help you through this.”

Her arms hung limply at her sides, feeling like thousand-pound weights. Suddenly, exhaustion claimed her. “You don’t get it, Jig. I don’t need you to help me through this or anything else. I take care of myself. Always have, always will.” For the first time in her life, those words left a sour taste in her mouth. Despite all her protests, she’d come to rely on him at her side.


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