Under My Skin Page 77


At that, I really do have to laugh. “I’m not entirely sure that’s the best argument.”

“I guess I’m saying that if you think you can, then you should trust that. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say.

“Does that help?”

“Yes,” I lie. Because the truth is, I don’t know if I can at all.

And if that’s the feeling I should trust, where does that leave me?

More important, where does that leave me and Jackson?

twenty-two

I wake to sunshine and the wonderful sight of Jackson’s blue eyes looking down at me.

“Hey,” I say, blinking a bit as I try to wake up. I’m still on the deck, but I’m under a blanket, and I realize with surprise that I’ve slept here all night, and apparently alone. “Did you stay up all night?”

He doesn’t answer my question. Instead he sits on the edge of the chaise, his expression so serious that it scares me. “We need to talk.”

I shake my head, because whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it.

“I have been up all night,” he admits. He leans forward, then presses his head into his hands.

I sit up, too, my fear now taking on the color of panic. I force it down. With everything else that has been going on, the last thing Jackson needs is to see me losing it, too.

With some effort, I pull myself together, then press my hand to his thigh. “Hey,” I say. “I know you’re scared, but Harriet’s right. This is why you hired her. It’s not over, Jackson, and we both have to believe that.”

His nod is perfunctory, as if I’m talking about some irrelevant topic at a cocktail party. “I’ve done a lot of thinking,” he finally says. “I think it makes more sense if I ask Damien and Nikki to take guardianship of Ronnie.”

“I—oh.” This is not what I was expecting, and I’m scrambling a bit to mentally shift gears. “Okay.” I swallow. I should be turning cartwheels. After all, the thought of being the parent figure in Ronnie’s life has had me terrified. But instead of joy, I feel an overwhelming disappointment. “I guess that makes more sense,” I add. “After all, Damien’s her uncle.”

“That’s part of it,” Jackson says. “It’s not all of it.”

A strange sort of prickling builds at the back of my neck, then starts to trickle down my spine. “You’re scaring me, Jackson.”

“I know,” he says, and there is pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. But there’s something I need you to do for me. No arguments, Syl. No questions.”

I don’t answer. These words are too much like the words I said to him in Atlanta. And those words just about destroyed us both.

He takes my hand. His is cold. Even a little sweaty. And I feel suddenly ill.

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t say it.”

“I have to.” The words sound like nails sealing a coffin. He draws in a breath, and his voice when he speaks is heavy with pain. “I need you to walk away.”

“No.” I’m shaking my head, but I don’t even realize it until I have to stop because the world is moving back and forth, and I am getting dizzy. “No,” I repeat. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you don’t need it. You don’t want it. And I’m sure as hell not doing it.”

“I’m not playing a game.” The pain is gone, replaced by a firm intensity. “I should have done this at the airport. I should have sent you back to LA the moment those detectives showed up in Santa Fe.”

“That is such bullshit.” I’m searching for words, for arguments, for understanding. But I’m finding none of those things. “Why are you doing this to me? To us?” Tears are streaming down my face, and I don’t even care.

Jackson’s fingers twitch, as if he wants to wipe them away, but he doesn’t reach for me. On the contrary, it looks as though he’s fighting hard to not touch me.

“Goddamn you, Jackson. You said you’d never do anything if the price was breaking me.” My voice is cracking and it sounds far away, as if I’m standing at the end of a very long tunnel. “What the hell do you think you’re doing now?”

“I am protecting you, baby. And I’m doing it the only way I know how.”

“The hell you are.”

“I once told you that where you are concerned I’m neither brave nor strong because the thought of losing you destroys me. And that’s true. But, dammit, Syl, I’ve found that strength. And it’s not you but the world that has destroyed me.”