Powerless (Chestnut Springs Book 3)

Dad: 7 p.m. Wednesday at The Frontier. Make the smart choice.

Sloane: Smart for me? Or smart for you?

We drive in tense silence, clutching one another’s hands. I don’t think I’ve let Jasper’s hand go for longer than a few seconds here and there.

And he’s been the one to reach for me. Every time.

After years of reaching for him, he’s reaching back. I just don’t know if taking his hand is the smart move anymore.

I went from elated and horny, bursting with all the mushy feelings, to worrying my love might ruin this man’s life.

My dad pulled the rug out from under me with such force that I’m toppling. I’m Alice down the fucking rabbit hole into Wonderland where absolutely nothing makes sense.

Except nothing about this situation is charming or quirky.

We pull up in front of the little bungalow I’ve worked the hardest on updating. The one we’ve been playing house in. The one he bought just to give my dad a solid fuck you. And now I’m seeing why.

I sit stunned, seeing the house in a new light. It felt like we were building a home here. We’ve made a point to make love in every room. I’ve put a wreath on the front door and twisted Christmas lights around the patio banisters.

My dad has managed to tarnish even this for me. Chestnut Springs. Jasper. My love life. I’m once again plunged into that ice bath of realizing I’ve been the perfect little pawn and haven’t been smart enough to notice.

“I have to go back into the city early for practice in the morning,” Jasper says.

I nod. When he asked me where I wanted to be, I said, “Take me to Chestnut Springs.”

I had zero desire to stay in the same city as my dad.

“You okay?” His warm fingers squeeze mine, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Jasper has always been my heartbeat, and I still wonder if I’m his. If he feels this as intensely as I do.

If he loves me.

He hasn’t said the words and neither have I. In a way, we’ve felt tenuous, too unsettled. Fragile, like a stack of blocks that’s slightly askew. One brief rumble and it could all go toppling. We both have shit we haven’t been brave enough to face. We’ve had our heads in the sand.

Could he love me if it meant losing his career, his passion? It’s the one thing he’s worked so hard to achieve. He overcame everything for it.

“No,” I whisper. “I’m not.”

“I’m sorry, Sunny.”

“Yeah.” I sigh raggedly, finally turning to look at Jasper. His keen midnight eyes analyze me under furrowed brows. He is so damn handsome in his expensive suit. He’s a man of contradictions. Rugged and polished. Hot and cold. Soft and hard. Happy and sad. Broken and mended.

A patchwork quilt that I love to snuggle with.

Just staring at him cracks my fucking chest open. I could give him the freedom to keep everything he’s worked so hard for. Even though it would rip me apart to do it.

But I’d rather hurt.

I’d rather have a Jasper-shaped hole in my chest than drag him off the little chunk of happiness he’s carved out for himself just so I can keep him. This life has been so unfair to him in so many ways. Over and over again.

I don’t want to be another thing that’s unfair to him by taking more than he can reasonably give someone.

“Sunny . . .” He turns in his seat, brushing calloused fingers over my cheek. “Why are you crying?”

My free hand wobbles up to my face and comes away wet. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I stare at the glistening water on my hand, and it takes me back to my almost wedding day, watching that little droplet of blood bead on my hand.

Jasper’s hand cups my cheek, the pads of his fingers trailing over the back of my neck. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re estranged from your family. I don’t want to make you choose. Because I know how badly it hurts to lose your family, no matter how terrible they might be. I don’t want to tell you what to do. This isn’t about me. I just want you to be happy. Go to the dinner. Mend your fences, burn your bridges. Whatever you need to do. I’ll go to my game. It doesn’t matter to me.” His thumb rasps across my cheek, and his voice cracks. “Just tell me how to make you happy.”

“I don’t want him to ruin your career.” I sniff, clearing my throat as I look up into the eyes that have held me captive for eighteen years.

He wags his head. “You won’t.”

“He said he would.”

He can’t.”

“You don’t know that!” My whispers turn to an agitated shout. “You don’t know the pull he has. The connections. I’ve seen it my entire life and somehow never judged the way he wields that power. I’ve been so stupid. So blind.”

“He can’t. And you are many things, but stupid is not one of them. You’re going to stop saying that now because I’m not living in fear of him anymore, Sunny. And you should stop living in fear too. I spent years losing sleep over that threat. And I’m done. Blind, maybe? But I can relate. We’re often blind to the people we love the most.”

The expression on Jasper’s face right now is one of pure focus and determination. Pure love.

But I push past that. Bat it away. Clamp my heart shut. Sometimes loving means losing, and I love him enough to do that. If he needs me to, I will.

“But what if he can? What if he can cut you off at the knees and make it all disappear? It’s not out of the realm of possibility where Robert Winthrop is concerned. Then what would you do?”

Jasper blinks at me, going still in the quiet SUV.

My hand clenches his as I put it all on the table. The question I know will either make or break my heart. “Are you willing to take that gamble?”

I roll my lips together, willing Jasper to say of course he’ll take that gamble. But also willing him to say no. I want him to keep what he’s worked so hard for, not throw it all away over some lovesick girl.

The seconds stretch out and Jasper says absolutely nothing. His expression is stricken, and his eyes stare off into some faraway place.

I can imagine where. To a day a long, long time ago. One that still haunts his every decision, one I don’t know he’ll ever be free of.

Jasper feels his decision that day lost him everyone he loved.

Now I worry that he’ll be forced to make a decision that will put him back there all over again.

But he says nothing. He doesn’t tell me what I want to hear. And he doesn’t tell me what I don’t want to hear.

He just freezes. Like that day on the runaway lane.

And somehow that hurts worse. My heart feels flayed in my chest, like it’s trying to crawl up my throat to escape the pain of being in my body.

My head understands his indecision, but my heart wanted him to say, “Yes! I’m willing to take that gamble.”

My heart needed him to say that.

I squeeze his hand one more time, swallowing hard to force myself into a state of cool composure. If I can dance on bloody toes, I can make it out of this vehicle without crumbling.

“It’s okay. I understand. But I think you should go back to your place in the city tonight. Make sure you’re ready for your games this week. Take the time and space. We both need it. I’ll call you.”

I’ll call you. I almost laugh at how cliché I sound. What could be worse? It’s not you, it’s me?

When he doesn’t respond, I peek at his face. A familiar frozen expression gracing his features.

“I know you’re crumbling right now. I can see you falling apart right before my eyes, Jas. But I also know you need to be the one to put yourself back together. If it’s me, I’ll constantly be the one mending you when you break. Pulling you back from that ledge. And I can’t be responsible for that for the rest of our lives. That needs to come from you.” My voice cracks. “I can barely put myself back together these days.”

And with that I pat his hand and pull away, leaving the warmth of his vehicle, turning with my head held high to walk to the front door. In an even but forced tempo, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. I lean on my years of training, walking gracefully with my shoulders rolled back and head held high.

It’s not until I’ve safely closed the front door that the engine revs and wheels crunch on the snow packed street that I let my composure slip.

Then I crumble too.