Middle of Knight (Jack & Jill 2)

“Asshole.”

“I adore you too.” Luke shut the door.

Chapter Twenty-One

Knight

Lilith respected Jillian’s wish to not talk about AJ, yet she knew if—when—he died she’d know. Even if Lilith and Dodge didn’t say anything, Jillian knew Cage or AJ’s parents would contact her. Missing two men who were still alive felt like a knife continuing to carve at the empty cavity that once housed her heart.

Luke. She imagined him with someone else by then, maybe even in love. He deserved that. The part of her that wanted that for him felt equally loving and masochistic.

AJ. No news was good news, unless he suffered. Jillian couldn’t go there.

Radiation.

Seizures.

Migraines.

Memory loss.

It was too much—until she received a text that crippled her emotions to the point of questioning her own will to survive.

Sarge: Fly to Portland and rent a car. Then wait for my instructions. But DO NOT come to my parents’ house.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jackson said as he climbed the last step, flinging his sweaty towel over his shoulder.

Jillian nodded, eyes fixed to her phone.

“Shit. Not another message.”

She shook her head slowly.

“Then what?” He slipped her phone out from her hand. “No.” He handed it back to her then brushed past her to the kitchen.

“I have to go,” she whispered, feeling dazed and maybe a little in shock.

“No way. Need I remind you what happened the last time you made a trip to the West Coast?”

“He needs me.”

“So do I.” Jackson chugged back a glass of water.

“Then come with me.”

Jackson shook his head.

“Because of Ryn?”

“Because I have students, and a house, and a life here now. Because we’re not supposed to leave this state without notifying G.A.I.L, because—”

“Because you’re in love.”

“No.” He glared at her, continuing the adamant shake of his head.

“I don’t blame you for staying for her, but don’t blame me for leaving for him.”

“Not the same thing and you know—”

“You’re right, it’s not! You’ve been here with Ryn and I’ve been a fucking miserable mess for weeks, but you wouldn’t know it because I’ve done what I do best—ignore the worst Goddamned hand of cards anyone has ever been dealt.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “But I’m tired of missing him and wondering why he’s there and I’m here.”

Jackson sighed. “Fine, then call McGraw and if he approves your little trip then you have my blessing.”

“I’m going and you’re not going to say anything to McGraw,” Jillian said each word with slow precision.

“You can’t do this to me again.”

Jillian drew her brows together. “Again?”

“Claire.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“You told me you were going to San Diego with Claire and I wasn’t supposed to say anything to anyone.”

“That’s not—”

“What?” Jackson rested his hands on his hips and leaned forward. “Fair? Is that what you were going to say? Because you’re right, it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you make me feel responsible for everybody’s fucking life. It’s not fair that I have to keep your secrets and keep you alive.”

He was right and every cell in her brain knew it. A downside to being Jillian Knight was the tendency to ignore all reason. She did everything one-hundred percent or not at all. AJ was unfinished business.

“I absolve you of your brotherly duties because I’m going. I have to.”

Jackson looked at the ceiling. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

Passionate. Jillian lived her life with an intensity born of deep passion. Jackson did too, he just refused to see their shared reflection in the mirror.

*

McGraw didn’t stop Jillian from making her first trip to Portland. Jillian had no reason to believe he’d stop her from making a second trip. Although Jackson didn’t like him, he still referred to McGraw as Jillian’s other big brother. She retched a little every time Jackson made the comparison.

After landing in Portland, she rented a Jeep and texted AJ.

Done

Her nerves were frayed from the opposing friction of fear and anticipation over seeing him. She had no idea why he’d beckoned her and why it seemed to be such a secret. It didn’t matter. He was the only one who mattered as she waited in a Subway parking lot just five miles from his parents’ house.

Sarge: One hour. 2 blocks north.

“Calm the fuck down, Jillian.” She rested her hand over her chest. “It’s not like you’re kidnapping him.”

It had been too many weeks since she’d seen him. A lifetime ago, or so it felt after resigning herself to the fact that she would never see him again. She held her breath as a figure moved toward the Jeep, a dark shadow in the night.

He opened the door and slid in the gray leather seat. Jillian continued to hold her breath. He didn’t even look at her.

“Go.” The profile of the man beside her barely resembled the man she’d been with in Omaha. He’d lost weight, mostly muscle weight, and his cheekbones were more prominent against his slightly sunken eyes. No hair. No eye brows. No eye lashes.