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"It's not like that, Benjamin."
"Just exactly what is it like?" Before Prescott could speak, Benjamin stood and took his wallet from his pocket, tossing four twenties on the table, then added another ten to make sure Prescott's drink was covered. "You know what, Prescott? I don't care enough to hear whatever excuse or reason or justification you may have convinced yourself made this okay somehow."
His 'father' didn't follow him into the lobby. Instead of walking to the bank of elevators leading to his room, Benjamin strode across the marble tile lobby and straight into the storm. Left or right, it didn't matter. He just started walking.
* * *
Jewell unlocked the suite door and pocketed the extra keycard, dragging her small suitcase in behind her. The drive from Boston had been challenging, to say the least, especially once she hit the Connecticut border. Travis Traynor had decided around noon to let everyone leave early, and give everyone but essential personnel the next day off—extending the already extended Christmas holiday. Jewell wasn't sure she'd ever packed so fast, thinking only one thing. Get to Hartford and be with Benjamin for what would hopefully be the last day of Jon Roth's trial.
She'd tried to reach him since leaving Bulwark, but just like the last two days, Benjamin didn't answer any of her texts. She only hoped the worst of scenarios running through her head weren't reality.
Leaving her suitcase in the main sitting area, she shrugged off her heavy coat and glanced around, searching for him in the large room. When she didn't find him there, she moved into the bedroom, even glancing into the bathroom. With no sign of him, Jewell sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her hair. Enough snow had accumulated in her hair just coming from the car to dampen her curls and make them twist into tight ringlets around her face.
Fighting the nervous energy that had been building just beneath her skin for two days, Jewell stood and went to the window. The snow was really coming down, and now that she saw the storm from this perspective, she was amazed she'd made it without going off the road. The daughter of a friend of her mother's had been in an awful accident the year before in the middle of a Nor'easter, and had nearly died. Since then, Jewell's mother had begged her not to drive in weather like this.
With a deep sigh, Jewell turned away from the window. She gasped and jumped back when she saw Benjamin standing just inside the suite door, watching her. His hair was wet and smattered with snowflakes, and the shoulders of his shirt were soaked through as though he'd been in the storm without a coat. Jewell pressed her hand over her heart.
"Benjamin, you frightened me," she signed as she crossed to him, a smile spreading her lips as relief washed over her like a cool wave. "Where were you?"
He stared hard at her, his eyes never leaving her face as she walked to him. It wasn't the cold stare of anger, or the tense stare of thought, but something she didn't know or understand. Suddenly, Jewell was afraid. The worst part was that she didn't know what she was afraid of.
She stopped and touched her palm to his chest. Cold emanated from him. His heart pounded hard and fast beneath her hand. "Benjamin? What is it? What's wrong?"
He covered her hand with his own and wrapped his arm around her body, pulling her close. As his eyes skimmed over her face, gooseflesh spread out over her arms and body. His fingertips curled and pressed into her spine. She didn't know why, but tears burned behind her eyes.
"Benjamin, please."
He snatched the words from her lips with a devouring kiss desperate in its intensity. Jewell had to wrap her hands behind his neck just to hold on. His tongue delved into her mouth and his arms held her so tight it stole her breath. Just as suddenly as the kiss began, he broke away and buried his shocking cold face into her hair and against the curve of her neck.
Jewell pushed her fingers into his damp hair and held him, her own heart now pounding at a ferocious pace. What happened? What had him acting this way?
Benjamin mumbled against her throat, and Jewell strained to hear him. When she did, her thundering pulse nearly stopped.
"I love you," he whispered again and again.
Jewell swallowed, her throat suddenly parched, and reluctantly pulled back, urging him to raise his head with her touch. His smoldering brown eyes met hers, and what she saw was pain. As much pain as when Victoria was shot.
"Benjamin, please," she forced out, thankful he didn't need to hear the weak quiver in her voice. "Tell me what is going on."
"I love you, Jewell."
Tears momentarily blurred his face, but she blinked them away. "I love you, too."
He shook his head, a sad, slow action. "Soon, I think you'll hate me."
So many thoughts rushed her mind, Jewell couldn't begin to decipher them or pull them apart to make sense of any of them. She held his face in her hands, his skin still cold from the winter wind.
"Benjamin, nothing could ever make me hate you."
His arms dropped and he stepped away to stand behind the same chair his mother had sat in the night when she and Ben Prescott told him the truth. He clutched the back until his knuckles whitened and his head dropped, golden brown waves of hair falling forward. Benjamin spoke, his head still down, and Jewell knew it was to avoid any interruptions. If he couldn't read her lips or see her signs, she couldn't speak.
"You have changed me," he said in a strained voice, even the soft quality of his speech sounding hard. "I wasn't looking to fall in love. Didn't want to fall in love. Never considered falling in love. But I have, and it happened so easily.”
Tears fell from Jewell's eyes, but she made no effort to wipe them away. She crossed her arms over her body and waited. Waited for whatever bomb he was going to drop. There was one coming. Jewell knew it just as surely as she knew her own name.
He slammed the heel of his hand against the chair's back and Jewell could see a tense muscle jump along his jaw. Jewell took a step toward him but his hand shot up in an indisputable sign for her to stop. She held her breath, waiting.
"I can't ask you to be a part of my life. It is too twisted and too hard."
