Jace was around the desk and across the floor before either of them could make sense of it. Joseph’s back was slammed against the wall, Jace’s forearm pinning him at the throat.
The piece of shit squirmed, trying to break free.
He’d once been as close as a brother.
Once.
“And why’s that, Joseph? Why do you have what I want?” Jace spat in his face.
You thief. You fucking thief.
He grunted his response, the answer always clear.
But Jace had walked away like a fool.
That day he’d gone back to Broadshire Rim, he should have flown out of Ian’s car like he’d wanted to do and told Faith everything.
Made her see.
Instead of going after the one thing that would ever truly make him happy, he’d turned his back and embarked on a mission to prove every motherfucker out there wrong.
He never should have had his brother dump him in an unfamiliar city where he’d thought his only option was completely starting over.
If he could do it all over, he would.
But he couldn’t.
And he could no longer be any part of that world without losing his mind.
He had to move on.
Forget it all.
“Get the fuck out and don’t ever come back,” Jace gritted close to his face, pushing him harder against the wall. “Do you understand me? I don’t care what you got yourself into. I don’t care what you owe. I don’t care what you have coming to you. Do you get what I’m saying to you?”
Jace took a quick step back, and Joseph slumped forward, panting for a strained breath. That single bead of sweat had bloomed to a fucking sheet of perspiration soaking his shirt.
It took a second flat for his entire demeanor to shift. He stumbled a step forward, that look he’d mastered when he wanted something twisted through his expression, written in manipulation.
Desperate.
Needy.
Fake.
“Please, Jace, I didn’t intend to come in here and act like an asshole. I just . . . I need your help. Please. They’re gonna kill me, man. Please.”
Jace cracked a grin. “They’re gonna kill you, huh? I hope so.”
It was his own taunt.
His own disrespect.
Besides, Jace knew better than to believe a single word Joseph spouted. He stepped back and pointed at the door. “Get out before I kill you first.”
Three Weeks Later
Jace picked up his cell where he sat at his desk. Atlanta was spread out below him where he took in the view from his high-rise apartment.
He felt a single thud in his chest when he glanced at the screen.
“Mack,” he answered.
On the other end of the line, Mack pushed out a shaky sigh. “Jace, I have bad news.”
Jace’s heart froze in the middle of his chest.
“We found Joseph in his car in front of the grocery store. A bullet through his head.” A bottled sob scraped up Mack’s throat. “They killed him.”
Forty-Three
Faith
Tears kept streaking down my face where I was on my knees on the floor. The room spinning as I tried to make sense of the news I’d received.
I didn’t want to accept it.
The betrayals that had been meted at the hands of Joseph and Jace. I didn’t know which hurt worse.
My phone vibrated on my nightstand. A string of blips calling out.
With my insides twisted in pain, I forced myself onto my feet and stumbled that way, barely able to see through the bleariness of my eyes.
Through the loss that thrummed and churned and seethed.
Oh God. How was I ever gonna get through this?
How had I been so blind not to realize Jace knew more than he was telling me? How could he come into our home and keep this kind of secret?
There was no reconciling the two. No way to patch it or glue it or fix it.
Joseph was dead. Failing himself. Failing me.
And Jace was caught somewhere in the middle of it.
My soul cried out.
Horrified to realize I really hadn’t known Joseph at all.
That he’d been into all the things he’d promised me he never would.
Promising me that he was different.
That he would give me the kind of life that I deserved.
Maybe it was all my fault, anyway.
My fault for letting myself love him but knowing I could never love him all the way.
Maybe I was the one who was truly selfish, taking somethin’ for myself and knowing I couldn’t give all of myself in return.
Maybe I was the one who’d betrayed and shamed and gone the wrong way.
A wave of grief and guilt slammed me.
My knees knocked, and a raw sob clawed out of my throat.
Everything hurt.
Excruciating.
Blinding.
I tried to pick up the phone, and it clattered back down when it slipped from my trembling hands, and I sucked in a breath as I forced myself to focus, to pick it up.
To remember the only thing that really mattered was the little girl sleeping across the hall.
Her safety and her future.
I thumbed across the screen.
Jace: Felix is on his way over to stay with you until this is ended.
Jace: The last thing I will do is leave you unprotected.
Jace: Even though you hate me, I won’t leave either of you unsafe.
Jace: I’m so sorry, Faith. So sorry. The one thing I ask is that you never forget that I truly loved you.
I felt the force of his devotion through the words. His love and his regret. It nearly dropped me to my knees again.
My attention moved from the words on the screen to the picture I still had at my bedside.
Joseph and me on our wedding day.
My insides curled with grief.
How could you?
I wanted to scream and shout at him so loudly he would hear my words from beyond the grave.
How could you?
Immediately, the words of that letter I’d found filled my mind.
Faith,
The first time I saw you, I wanted you. I guessed I’d always chased after the things that weren’t mine. I’m so sorry for that. But I don’t regret it.
Do you remember the day we got married? Look at that picture, Faith. Look at me. It was the most honest day of my life. But even that honesty was tainted because you never really belonged to me.
I could never regret you. The only thing I wish is that I’d done it all differently.
Look at that picture, Faith. What you see there, it’s the truth.
Joseph
Tears blurred my eyes as I stared at the image. Both of us so young. What I felt for him so different from what I’d ever imagined for my wedding day.
But I’d been happy. Happy in a resigned, compromised way. Resolved to love him the best that I could.
Suddenly, I was struck with an urge. A frenzied desperation as I lifted the frame and threw it against the wall.
Glass shattered, the frame bent, and the picture shifted from its position.
I gasped when I saw something peeking out from underneath.
I dropped to my knees and grabbed the metal, shaking the glass loose, the knot in my chest expanding in this blossoming pain when the small folded piece of paper slipped out.
Blinking through the bleariness, I carefully grabbed it and unfolded the letter.
My heart twisted in two.
He was always your beast. I never should have tried to compete with that.
Instantly, I was taken back to the day we’d argued, when he’d screamed at me to throw the Beast away, that he didn’t want any memories of Jace in our home.
I hadn’t had the heart to get rid of it and had hidden it in the back of the closet.
I’d almost regretted not throwing it away the day Bailey had found it and started carrying it around as if it was her best friend, the quiet yielding hurt that had blanketed Joseph’s eyes when he’d come home and found his daughter carrying on about how much she loved it.
The Beast.
The Beast.
Choking over the sobs in my throat, I climbed to my feet, raced to my dresser, and pulled on a tee and sweats.
Without slowing, I rushed to my daughter’s room and I gently pulled the tattered stuffed animal out from under her arm, careful not to wake her as I knelt beside her bed and frantically searched.
Hands pressing hard over the face and the arms.
I froze for a beat when I patted down the blue jacket and felt the crinkle in the sewn-down pocket.