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“Huh?”
His brow shoots up. “You know, Saw. A game within a game?”
I shake my head slowly, no idea what the hell he is talking about.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Jigsaw? Puppet on a tricycle?”
“Is that a friend of yours or something?”
He looks appalled at my lack of understanding for whatever weird reference he’s making.
“Oh, Blair. So many things I would teach you if I had the time.” His hand rests on the side of my cheek. “Forget it. Back to the questions. Do we have a deal?”
I nod, and he joins me at my side.
“The worst thing that has ever happened to me was losing my twin sister,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “She died when I was twelve, and I don’t think there will ever be any pain that can hurt more than that.”
“What happened?”
Flashbacks play in my mind, distorted and hazy like an old home movie. “She was sick. There was something wrong with her heart. She was on the transplant list, but the call never came. Then one day she was just gone. She was my best friend. My other half.”
That feeling rises to my throat. The one where it burns and hurts to swallow. It always happens when I try not to cry.
“I killed my best friend,” Jackson says nonchalantly, without a trace of emotion in his voice.
I try to convince myself that I’m hearing things. That whatever I just heard couldn’t possibly be what he meant.
“I didn’t mean to, but I did it.”
I can’t speak, the words are trapped inside me.
“I don’t even remember what we were arguing about. That’s what makes it so fucked up. Every other detail is imprinted in my mind. All except that.” He twists his fingers together, fidgeting, the conversation obviously uncomfortable for him to talk about with me. “He shoved me, and I hit him. He fell back, but then came at me harder. I’ve never been able to control my anger, always quick to use my fists to solve my problems. We were at a party and everyone around us laughed about it at first. It wasn’t the first time we’d roughed each other up over something stupid.”
I look out at the darkness in front of us, unable to look at him. Jackson was unlike any other man I’d ever met, but deep down I truly never thought my life was in real danger.
But now?
“When we didn’t let up after a few blows you could feel the energy shift. People around us stopped laughing and started yelling. Started telling us to stop. We didn’t stop, though. He landed a right hook and I almost went down, but I managed to stay on my feet somehow. I swung again, my fist hitting his temple. He fell straight back like a domino and his head slammed into the base of the fireplace.”
Bile rises in my throat as I listen to his story.
“I remember the screams, the blood, and the look on every single fucking person’s face. They didn’t look at me like I was Jackson anymore. No, they looked at me and saw a monster. Fuck, I guess that does sort of make me a monster. I did three years for manslaughter. It probably should have been more, but I took a deal. When I got out, I left town and never looked back.” He sighs. “It is what it is.”
I stand there, unable to meet his gaze even though I can feel his stare on me. He waits for me to say something, anything to give away what is going through my mind after his admission.
There have been more than a few times that Jackson has scared me tonight, but deep in the recesses of my psyche I never truly believed I was in danger.
Until now.
This man had taken a life. The life of someone he loved.
And me?
I’m just some girl he barely knows.
“Are you afraid of me now, princess?” he asks, voice low.
“I was already afraid of you,” I answer, folding my arms in front of me.
