Bright Star (36 page)

Jackson had not intended to go this far. He had never intended to spill inside of her. But he had. And it had been wonderful. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t done. He was still rock hard inside her and the come from both of them mixed to lubricate and manifest an electric glide. His hips moved in and out, his thick erection moved with unnatural speed with only the most pleasurable friction. She brought her legs up until he grasped the underside of her knees in each hand and pressed them to the sides of her chest. Her body was tilted up to him and vulnerable.

The next stroke ripped a yelp from his throat. He rolled his hips again. This time, the sound came from her. And then, his strokes came faster and deeper until he was wheezing sharply in the night and she sounded as if she were sobbing.

“It’s so good,” she cried, “so good.” When his head dipped down to bite at one nipple then the other, she shrieked. “Please! Please! Please!”

And she did not say his name, but Jackson knew that she knew him, that he was not Rush in her eyes, but Jackson. He dropped one of her legs, to loop his arm under the small of her back to position her for his final earth-shattering thrust. Demanding a kiss, his mouth over hers, he ingested the scream torn from her throat while muffling his own. She returned his kiss then pulled away to nip at his chin. Jackson collapsed on top of her.

Warning

His chest was on fire. Jackson shot up. His eyes popped open and he found himself gasping for air. One hand clawed at his throat, which felt swollen shut. He could not get oxygen into his lungs. The burning in his chest started to spread to the other parts of his body. His muscles strained. He lashed out, pounding the wall in desperation. That was when he caught sight of Rush and went still.

Rush stood at the edge of the bed with his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His black eyes were intense and unblinking as he watched Jackson. His nostrils were flared. His lips were pressed into an unwavering line. His jaw ticked and ticked again.

It was then that the obstruction in Jackson’s throat vanished and he was wracked with coughs. He gulped in air as he rolled, quickly covering his naked body in his sheets. They were damp and still clinging with perspiration. He put up a hand to shield his eyes from the daylight that pierced the blinds. “Rush, what are you doing?” he rasped.

“I would think that was obvious,” Rush responded without emotion. Jackson started to cough again.

Jackson massaged his throat with his hand as he continued to cough. “You did this?” he asked in disbelief. Rush did not respond. “But why? Why Rush? What did I—” And then he knew. Every detail came back to him. Every one. He could still smell her on his own body. His body went hot again and his face colored a mottled red from embarrassment. Rush knew, too.

“Yes, Jackson,” Rush spoke finally. “That is the question, I think. What did you do?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” Jackson sputtered, amazed that he would lie. Rush already knew. He already knew. That’s why he was there. And even if he didn’t know before, he could easily peer into Jackson’s mind to find out. Rush slipped in and out of his mind with the ease of a permanently invited visitor. There was no point in lying. And yet, he couldn’t admit to it, either. He couldn’t confess to the betrayal and the depth of that betrayal.

Images of hands came to his mind. His own hands Shifted to look like Rush’s. Dark hands grasping soft, creamy flesh. Long fingers flicking her dark rose nipples. Jackson wanted to vomit. Even there in the face of his brother’s discovery, even when faced with what he had done, he could feel himself hardening at just the thought of the experience. Rush’s eyes were still on him and Jackson was certain, again, that his brother knew exactly what was happening to him.

Rush’s hands fisted, defining the veins in his forearms. Still, though Jackson had been sure it was coming, Rush did not call him on the untruth. Instead he stated plainly: “I have never been with her.”

Any other day, Jackson would have challenged his brother’s words. He had seen them together and he knew that no matter what Rush said, there was a connection between he and Bright Star. And no one could ever deny Bright Star’s invariable devotion to his brother. It was why he felt the near unbearable weight of guilt. If Bright Star and Rush did not have that connection, then this would not have been such an unforgivable betrayal. He would not feel like the traitor he was. But Jackson would not challenge his brother’s words on this day. He couldn’t bring himself to increase the tension in the room. There was no denying that Rush spoke the truth. The blood he’d found had been no suggestion. His head hurt.

“Why are you telling me this?” Jackson asked and for a moment, guiltily, he wanted to believe his brother was telling him that what he’d done was okay. But he wasn’t. The stone-faced expression could barely contain the strong emotion simmering beneath the surface. Jackson only wished he could know which emotion his brother was working so hard to hide. He tried reading Rush’s eyes but could not. Instead, he found himself averting his haunted, conflicted gaze from Rush’s mesmerizing one.

“I wouldn’t have been with her even if I wanted to, and I didn’t. You will never understand it, Jackson. Never. But—and listen to me carefully—I do not want her.”

That, Jackson found impossible to believe. How could any man living not want her? She was pure beauty and unadulterated devotion. Physically, she was undeniable. Emotionally, well, no woman could love a man or commit herself to him in the way Bright Star had committed herself to Rush. Every man wanted that.
Jackson
wanted that.

Rush shook his head slowly. Jackson couldn’t help but believe Rush was contradicting his thoughts. And then—it was sudden, so sudden—Jackson realized what that emotion was. It wasn’t anger, as he had feared. It was worse. The emotion was pain. “You don’t know what you’ve done—what you’ve almost done. You have no idea.” Those last words were barely more than a broken whisper.

“I didn’t—” Jackson cut himself off. There was no point in denying it. Rush knew.

“You didn’t even think to ask yourself why she allowed it. You didn’t even take one second to find out why she would do it,” Rush walked over to the window and peered out.

“You think she made me do this? With Shift?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Jackson!” Rush growled. Then his voice softened again, “We both know it wouldn’t take Shift to get you to do what you did. Oh, she would have used it if she had to, but she didn’t have to. But have you asked yourself? Have you stopped for one single fucking minute to ask yourself?” Rush was screaming and his eyes were glistening, “Why Jackson? You spent all that time in the iso tank figuring out everything. Why are conveniently not understanding this? Why would she have done it?”

Jackson was embarrassed. He tucked his chin to his chest and looked at the floor. He moistened his dry lips with his tongue before he spoke. He had questioned, but he had gotten an answer and accepted it outright. “She thought I was you.”

“She knows me. Whether I like it or not, she knows me. She knows me better than anyone, including you.
Including
you, Jackson. She knows every nuance. She knows the sound of my voice. She knows my smell. She knows my Energy. I’m asking you again, why didn’t you take one second to wonder why she let you do it?”

“I did!” Jackson fired back, “I told you I—”

“You’re not stupid.” Rush snapped. His words were sharp but he didn’t even mildly raise his voice. “But you wouldn’t question it too strongly when you were getting something you wanted for so long.”

“What?” Jackson did not understand why he pretended shock. More ingrained than anything. He did not actively try to deceive Rush. No. He actively deceived himself.

“Jackson, you know you can’t hide anything from me. You know you can’t lie to me. What you don’t know is what you’ve done,” Rush admonished as he faced his brother again. His expression had softened. It could have been called mild. “I know your feelings for Bright Star, but they will only bring you misery. You have no idea why she did what she did. And it never occurred to you to ask. Even after you went AWOL in Sense Dep. Even after finding out the truth about Mom, me, and yourself. You didn’t figure out why she was doing it. Bright Star is studied, organized, disciplined. She is thoughtful, observant, and she plans. But, above all else—and I say this without ego—she lives and dies for me. She never, never would have made that mistake. I told you, she knows me. You chose to ignore what you knew to be true.”

“Well obviously,” Jackson countered defensively. “Obviously she was upset with you and the fact that you won’t listen to her. And, she needed… she needed…”

Rush did not say anything. There was a look in his eyes. It was like a fire suddenly extinguished. There was no need. He had told Jackson not to try to lie to him. “Jackson why does everyone know it but you? Even after what you experienced in Sense Dep:
Your love can’t save her
,” Rush told him baldly. Rush ran a hand over his face. When his eyes were visible again, Jackson could identify the full-on pity in them.

Anger broke like a wave in Jackson’s chest. His brows drew together. He wanted to lash out but his nakedness and the undeniable truth of his brother’s words kept him in the bed. Dragging his blanket with him, he swung his legs over the side and reached for some jeans lying on the floor. He snatched them on. “No. My love can’t save her. It’s obvious. The only thing or person that can save her is you!” He pointed his finger accusingly at his brother and breathed heavily as he stared into those dark eyes.

Rush didn’t answer. Instead he walked over to his brother and placed his hands on his shoulders. He stared into Jackson’s soul. Jackson tried to turn away but found that he could not. Rush held him captive. When he spoke again, his voice was deep and clear and devoid of emotion. “Jackson, your love can’t save her. I can’t save her, either. No one can save her and in this moment—you won’t believe me, I know—she should not be saved. But I can save you. I
will
save you. And I will save—
fuck
. You don’t know what you almost did. It would have been the wrong—” Rush bit off his words with a snarl. He jabbed a finger at his brother. “Leave her alone! I’ve corrected the wrong that was done today. Leave her alone.”

Corrected?
Jackson thought. “She only thinks of you,” Jackson whispered finally.

Rush lost his patience and flung his hand out wide, shattering the windows in the room with Shift. The crash was loud and the glass exploded inward toward them. But before the shards even reached their skin, the glass stopped in midair, then reversed. Each and every shard returned to the place it had been originally and the windows looked as they had just minutes before. The flame in Rush’s eyes ignited once more. “How can you be so fucking stupid? How? You have never been this… this… dumb! It doesn’t matter who the fuck she thinks about. It doesn’t matter whether she loves me or not, loves you or not!” Rush shook his head with a rueful, joyless smile. He started out of the room. “I know what she thinks about, Jackson. If she thought of anything else, we might all escape damnation. Unfortunately, her infatuation is going to completely destroy masses of fucking people. No matter how much of a moron you are, I won’t let you be one of us.”

Jackson said nothing. There was a stubborn set to his jaw.

“You have to know that I am always going to protect you…”

“You have protected me my whole life, Rush. You think I’m stupid, but I’m not.” Jackson told him, feeling emasculated by the cracking in his voice. “I have never done anything, accomplished anything that didn’t have you at its heart. You made me!” Jackson was yelling it now and pools of water started to collect in his eyes. “You made me!” he yelled it again. Then, with a sweep of his arms, he overturned his dresser and the heavy wood smashed against the floor. Jackson dropped to his knees. “I am no one. No, not no one. I am your brother.”

Rush was silent. Jackson knew the truth of his birth, he knew the truth of it all and there was nothing stronger than the truth. No suggestion would ever repair the damage that had been done by the simple, unerring truth. Jackson was not great. Jackson was not remarkable in any way other than by being Rush’s brother. Precocial was a lie… derivative. He reached a hand out to Jackson but knew that Jackson would reject it. The last thing on earth he wanted was Rush’s support.

“What did you mean?” a weeping Jackson asked.

“By what?”