“Sit,” Hendrix orders.
I walk over to the sofa and I sit. He drops down beside me and turns to face me. His beautiful eyes scan my face. “What happened?”
I swallow. “He took me on the ship for a few weeks, looking for you. He couldn’t find you so we came back here. He fights and . . . that’s where we were tonight. It was going fine until . . .”
“Until what, Jess?”
I feel more tears slide down my cheeks. Hendrix reaches over and takes my hand. “Until what?”
“He’s still alive, Hendrix. I saw him.”
He shakes his head. “Who?”
“My foster father.”
He sucks in a breath. “Fuck, Jess. Did he hurt you?”
“No, he was giving Dimitri information. I took the chance to run.”
I don’t tell him all of what went on tonight because it’s just details he doesn’t need to know. I don’t want him to be upset with me. I don’t want him to think that I’ve betrayed him for kissing Dimitri. Well, for even feeling anything but hatred for Dimitri.
“Can he find you?”
“Which one?” I laugh, but it’s broken and sad.
“Both.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then you need to come back with me. We’ll figure out a way to bring Dimitri down and—”
My phone rings suddenly, cutting him off. I feel my eyes widen and I pull it from my pocket. It’s Dimitri. I stare at the screen and then hit reject. Before I can hide it, a message flashes on the screen.
Dimitri—Baby, hide as much as you want. I’ll track you.
“Baby?” Hendrix breathes.
Oh. Shit.
I drop the phone and dare to look up at him. His expression is wild.
“It’s not—”
“Not what!” he roars. “I’ve been fuckin’ lookin’ for you and you’ve been shackin’ up with my psycho son?”
“It’s not like that, Hendrix. I’ve wanted you to find me more than anything.”
“Are you sure about that?”
My eyes water and my lips tremble. Hendrix sighs and drops his head into his hands.
“You need to be honest with me, Jess. I can’t help you if you’re not honest,” he manages, even though his voice is strained and full of disappointment.
I open my mouth and croak out, “I’m being honest, Hendrix. I’ve wanted you to find me. Hell, I tried to kill him so you wouldn’t risk your own life. For you to think I’d just forget you . . .”
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning to me. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. But shit, I’ve been beside myself . . . thinking he was hurtin’ you.”
“He didn’t,” I whisper.
“I have to end this with him, Jess.”
I nod. “I’m aware of that, but if you do it now, he’ll kill you. Or, worse, you’ll kill him.”
“He’s upending my life, he took something that was mine. I can’t just let this go on.”
I shake my head, reaching over and taking his hand. “Then let me stay.”
“What?” he says, eyes wide. “Over my dead fuckin’ body.”
“Listen to me, Hendrix,” I plead. “He . . . we’ve grown close. I’m beginning to understand him, to break down his barriers. I think . . . well . . . I hope that I can change his mind about all this. If I can spend more time with him, then I can maybe get him to come to you in a calmer frame of mind.”
“It’s too big a risk,” he says, shaking his head.
“No, it’s not. He won’t hurt me, Hendrix.”
“You don’t know his level of fucked up, Jess. I can’t trust that he won’t snap.”
I laugh bitterly. “But I do understand his level of fucked up, because I’m the same.”
Hendrix’s eyes soften. “Shit, Jess. This is dangerous.”
“It’s not. He won’t hurt me.”
“Do you care about him? Is that why you want to stay?”
I look away, staring out the window. “I do care about him, yes. But more than that, I care about you, Hendrix. I don’t want either of you hurt. He’s damaged, he thinks you left him to get hurt. You’re angry because he’s interfered in your life and started a war. If I go back with you, it will fuel his rage. If I go back to him, I might just have a chance to calm this.”
He grumbles and runs his fingers down his chin. “Shit, Jess, you’re asking me to put a lot of trust in you here.”
“I need you to do this for me, Hendrix. Please?”
He meets my gaze. “If he hurts you . . .”
“He won’t.”
He sighs. “Fine. I’ll give you a month. If I don’t hear from you by then, I’m coming back for you, Jess. I can’t just leave you there . . .”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
He shakes his head and leans back, then he murmurs, “Don’t fall in love with him.”
I stare at him. “Pardon?”
“I can see it, in your eyes. There’s a connection forming but it’s not a healthy one. He took you . . . for revenge—”
“I know, Hendrix,” I all but snap.
He puts his hands up. “I just want you to see this how it is. I don’t want you to go into this blind.”
“I’m not blind, Hendrix.”