Crumbling Walls (Jack and Emily #1) (22 page)

▪▪▪

Once inside, they explained what was up and Elizabeth sent both upstairs so Jack could find her something to wear. Instead of finding the pajamas, however, he twirled her once again into his arms, “Sorry, had to dance with you one more time tonight.”

As she laughed, she swung her hips slightly, her dress flaring out at the bottom, “The last four hours weren’t enough?”

Bending at the neck, he kissed her once again, “I think I could dance with you forever,” and with a wicked grin, “as long as your toes can take being stepped on a few more times.”

Returning the kiss, “For giving me one of the best nights I’ve ever had, I think my toes can handle a bit more.”

With a last turn, he let go, “Best night?”

He couldn’t help notice the twinkle in her sleepy eyes, “So far, at any rate.”

As he pulled out a clean pair of flannels and a shirt for her, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Once or twice.”

Coming back over, he handed her the clothes, then with one last hug, he not so sneakily reached around and unzipped the back of her dress, “You look beautiful.”

And with that, he grinned and left her to change, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving her trying very hard to remember how to breathe.

By the time she’d carefully laid her dress, a rare and beautiful find at the thrift store she frequented, over the end of Jack's bed, pulled her nylons off and worked the pins from her hair, she was yawning uncontrollably. Her body screamed at her to lie down and she did, just for a second.

She was asleep immediately, curled on top of his unmade bed.

▪▪▪

Elizabeth set up the couch for Emily, then headed to bed herself, leaving Will downstairs with Jack and Tim. After having a fast snack, “Dude, how long does your girlfriend take to change?”

“I was just wondering that myself. Back down in a second.” Going upstairs, he knocked quietly on the bedroom door and, opening it slowly, let the smile spread across his face as he saw her asleep. Returning to the kitchen, he told his dad, “Um, she’s asleep on my bed.”

Will couldn’t help shaking his head and smiling, “Okay, Tim, do you mind sleeping down here? If she wakes up, it might be better that she sees Jack.”

Tim was already stripping to his boxers and heading into the living room, “That’s fine. I’ve gotta work early anyway.” Turning back to his dad, “could you wake me up though? You’ll be up early, won’t you?”

Nodding, “Five-fifteen as usual.”

“How ‘bout six-thirty?”

Giving his sons quick hugs, “Six-thirty. G’night.”

Left alone, Jack swallowed another granola bar before telling Tim goodnight and going upstairs himself.

And it was there that Jack covered her up with the quilt.

And it was there that he finally told her he loved her. Granted she couldn’t hear him or respond because she was asleep but now that he’d said it, felt how the words played on his tongue, he knew he’d be saying it often … and every time, he’d feel it even more.

After watching her for a few minutes, he changed silently, but regardless of how hard he tried to be quiet, Tim’s bed creaked when he tried to get in, “Jack?”

Sliding back onto the floor, he came over to her, “Yeah, Tim’s down on the couch and I’m sleeping in his bed. Dad figured it wouldn’t freak you out as much if you woke up and found me.”

Blinking a few times before focusing in on him, “I should really go downstairs so Tim can have his bed.”

She punctuated her statement with a jaw-splitting yawn and Jack smiled, “Why don’t you just go back to sleep? We’ve already switched everybody around and, besides, might be kind of fun.”

Immediately snuggling back down in the pillow, “If you insist.”

Leaning over, he kissed her lightly on the cheek, “I’ll always insist.”

▪▪▪

The problem was now she couldn’t fall back to sleep; she could only hear Jack breathing about three feet away from her and, with every breath, she felt more and more guilty.

He was lying there, thinking the evening had been perfect, that she had been beautiful and perfect.

It took her nearly twenty minutes to work up the courage to ask him, “You still awake?”

She heard him roll over, presumably so he was now facing her, “Yeah?”

“What if there was more you didn’t know?”

“If you tell me it’s your birthday again, I’m not getting you anything.”

Almost smiling, “Do you think your mom’ll get annoyed if we shut the door for a little while?”

Moving, he got up and silently shut the door. Coming to sit next to her on his bed, “I was the last one to come upstairs, so we’ll be fine, as long as it’s opened before morning.”

Emily reached over and turned the bedside lamp on, “Then I need to talk to you.” Worry creased his forehead in a heart-meltingly enduring way and she suddenly felt her chest tighten, “And I need to show you something.”

Turning away from him, with hands shaking, she slipped the t-shirt over her head. Since she wasn’t sleeping in her bra, her back was completely exposed to him,

As were her scars.

In a voice barely above a whisper, she heard him ask, “Who did this to you?”

Managing to say, “My father,” she suddenly felt a tentative finger on her back. Surprisingly, she didn’t shy away, but held still as he followed each line and jagged, raised edge, tracing the outline of the iron burns, the glass cuts, the poorly stitched pocket knife gouge and finally, the small, slightly puckered hole where he’d punctured her with a screw driver.

His finger lingered here the longest, “I’ll kill him, I swear to God.”

Still not able to turn and look him in the face, “I think I did that already.”

Now, maybe he didn’t hear her or maybe he decided to discuss it later on, but regardless, the comment went by and he continued to run his hands over her bare back, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Finding it relatively easy to talk to him without having to see his face, she told him everything. Every last horrid detail because, once she began, she couldn’t stop.

And he listened in silence, never interrupting, never questioning, never commenting.

He did however, reach around her shoulders and gently pull the shirt back over her head so he could put his arms around her and hold her tight to him.

He also did this so his tears wouldn’t fall against her skin.

He wept silently for her as she whispered her life story to him over the course of the next hour. Just as the clock was switching over to two, she took a deep breath and was quiet.

Without a word, he reached around her and turned off the desk lamp, laying them both down on the mattress in the dark. Moving her hair off her neck with a brush of his nose, he kissed the only scar she hadn’t told him about, the one that ran the length of her hairline.

For the first time in that hour, he spoke, “This is the first one I’m going to kiss and make better. Eventually, if you let me, I’ll work on the rest but, for now, I’ll just focus on this one.” Continuing to lay kisses from one end of it to the other, “If that’s all right with you?”

She nodded and felt her entire body relax as it never had before. Jack knew everything. And he still wanted her.

He had touched her past and he had stayed.

“I love you, Jack Callaghan.”

▪▪▪

He’d moved out of her bed a few hours later, opened the door and crawled under his own covers about 15 minutes before his dad began his morning routine.

That routine was altered a tad when Will popped his head in to see just where Emily and Jack had wound up.

With satisfaction, he saw Emily curled in a ball in the bed she’d started in and Jack, snoring slightly, his foot hanging off the end of his brother’s bed, right where he should be.

▪▪▪

She slept for another hour or so, then, waking up, she moved quickly, digging in Jack’s drawers until she found the jeans from Christmas and the belt she wore. Pulling them on, as well as an old sweatshirt from his closet, she crept downstairs, dress and shoes in hand. Holding her breath as she tied her boots and slipped her coat on, she prayed she wouldn’t wake anyone up. With a sigh of relief at having succeeded, she slowly pulled the front door open and headed out into the pre-dawn morning.

Tim and Will held themselves still in the kitchen until they heard the front door click shut, then, “Why’d she leave?”

Will shook his head, “I don’t know, but given how quiet she was being about it, she must have had her reasons.”

Shrugging, he took another doughnut as he got up from the table, “Well, at least now I can get in our room without worrying about waking her up.”

“What about Jack?”

“Don’t care if he wakes up.” With a grin, he headed up the stairs.

Tim decided to be quiet, however, and Jack didn’t wake up until the rest of the family did, which was a little after nine. Rolling over, ready to wake Emily up, he instead saw the empty bed and sat up, wondering what had happened. It was then that he noticed the paper tucked under the end of the pillow. It only said, “Come by after work. I love you,” but it was all Jack needed to smile.

▪▪▪

He ran into Will as he was coming out of the bathroom a minute later, “Hey Dad.”

“Morning. Can I talk to you a minute?”

Ignoring his growling stomach, he nodded, “Am I in trouble?”

Will led him back to his room and motioned for Jack to sit down, “What happened last night after we went to bed?”

“I had a granola bar and came upstairs.”

“I mean, what happened after you got up here?”

Jack looked at him warily, “Em woke up and wanted to talk. Why? What happened?”

Slightly relieved, “She just left pretty early this morning. Wasn’t sure if something happened last night that made her want to leave.”

He looked at Will for a minute before, “She told me. She woke up and she told me and she showed me. I think maybe she didn’t want to deal with everyone this morning.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to deal with us this morning?”

Standing back up, “She probably mostly didn’t want to deal with me. It’s one thing to tell someone something in the dark; it’s another to look at them again afterwards in the daytime.” Jack showed Will the note she’d left, “But she’s okay. I think she just wants to wrap her head around me knowing.”

Will regarded him with what one might have considered a hint of awe if they looked close enough, “When did you grow up?”

“’Bout one o’clock this morning. Give or take a few minutes.”

With a shake of his head, “And how are you wrapping your own head around it?”

“Ask me again in a few days. I may have an answer for you by then, but right now, I’m hungry and think we should go find us some breakfast.”

Knowing when to stop pushing, he started towards the hallway, close at his son’s heels, “I think it’s fend for yourself morning.”