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"I don't know," I said. "I don’t want you to worry about it."
"Don't be ridiculous, if I can help, I will."
I let her go, sat up. I hated charity, ever since I’d been old enough to understand it, what it really was. We’d worn our cousins’ hand me downs when we were little. But that last time we’d visited, before we’d been asked politely to leave, my cousin had made fun of me for wearing his old shirt. I would never forget that feeling, the shame of accepting someone else’s castoffs. Charity made it impossible to hold your head up high. "Don't, Juliet. You've done enough."
She pulled the sheet up around her and sat up, turning toward me. "Jace. This is life or death. If I can help, it could save Jarred's life." She stared at me, and I knew she was right. Was I willing to risk my brother's life for my own pride?
"It's too much, Juliet. The private places are hundreds of thousands of dollars. We just ... my family ..." I trailed off. There was no point telling her we didn't have it. She knew that. I stared at my hands in my lap. My stupid, strong, ineffectual hands, callused from work and war and fighting but incapable of making the kind of money that would save my family. "I can't let you do it."
Juliet reached out and took one of my hands in hers, held it in the warmth of her palms. "Jace, you don't understand. I want to."
Charity. All I could think about was how this was charity. How it made me smaller and her bigger. How it ruined the equilibrium that was already hanging by a delicate thread between us. But it was my brother's life.
I couldn't speak. I just shook my head, wishing I could change anything at all.
"It's just money." Her voice was a plea, and I knew she believed her words. Because to people who had money, that was all it was. To people who didn't? Money was like water in a desert. Fundamental and scarce. And impossible to hold in your hands.
"If you do this, it'll ruin everything." The words slipped out, and I knew they needed context, but my mind was so ragged I couldn't add it. I couldn't make her see how her help made me feel small, how it emasculated me, how being saved by the woman I was falling in love with made even my love seem powerless and ineffectual.
"Why?" She asked. "Why can't I help?"
I thought about my brother's laughing face, the one I'd seen as a kid. I thought about the scraped knees I'd been able to bandage for him, the tears I'd wiped away when the kids on the bus had bullied him. I thought about how I'd knocked down the kid who'd been about to punch him after his first day in high school—when I'd been a senior and he'd been a freshman, how I'd saved him over and over. And how I couldn't save him now. Except by swallowing my pride and saying yes. Giving up my own sense of self to preserve his life.
"Okay," I said finally. And then I stood, dressed, and left the room before Juliet could say anything else. She watched me, asking me to stop, to talk, until I reached the door, and then I heard her soft voice. "Jace?" But the door was already closing between us.
“I can’t,” I managed. Maybe loudly enough for her to hear.
I was blind with anger and humiliation as I descended the stairs. Which was why I ran directly into Chad as he crossed the darkened front room.
For a moment we just stood facing one another in the darkness. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his thick skull.
"Everything okay upstairs?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He looked between me and the stairs for a minute. "Maybe everything is more than okay, eh?"
I stared at him, wishing I could set him on fire with my eyes. I was already full of shame and anger, and now a deep gnawing worry crept into the mix. Chad was an idiot, but he could certainly figure this out. And if he told Austin, if I lost my job right now, just when I needed money more than ever… "Everything is fine."
"You getting cozy with the boss, Jace?" His eyes narrowed as he thought about this. There'd been plenty of evidence back in LA, if he'd cared to see it. But now he was thinking about it, and I had no doubt he'd figure out that Juliet and I were involved.
"She's with McDonnell. You know that." I could barely force the words out. My mind was spun out, exhausted. I wasn't sure I even cared if he knew. I'd get fired, but maybe then at least I wouldn't have to see the look I knew I'd find in Juliet's eyes from today on—the look that told me I was less than a man, that I was someone who couldn't take care of his own, someone weak.
"Maybe she's with you too, eh?"
"She's not." I told him, my hands in fists so tight they ached. "I'm going outside." I pushed past him, aware that I'd done nothing to tamp down his suspicions.
Maybe it didn't matter anymore.
Chapter Twenty-One
Juliet
Having Jace's permission to help his brother set me spinning into action, though I hated the way he’d left. I understood too, though. He was proud. It was part of what made him the man I cared about. He’d told me straight out how hard it was for him to accept help, but this was important. Finally, I felt like I could do something to show the man I was falling in love with that I cared—that I'd do just about anything for him. I wanted to be able to demonstrate what he meant to me, and though money was just money, if I could help this way, I was glad. I wanted to make his life easier if I could, give him one less thing to worry about, since at the moment I was only adding to his worries with all the crap with Ryan and with Zac.
Jace had stood by, hadn't complained as I'd asked him to pretend with me. He was loyal and steadfast—like Elvis, except with less snorting and a better command over his autonomous nervous system. Jace was my rock, and I was going to do whatever I could to show him what it meant to me.
I dug around in my email, looking for the name of the place Audra Harbinger had checked into a few days ago. I'd heard about it from a mutual friend I emailed with now and then, another actress. And after a few minutes of digging, I found the email.
