Dylan’s Redemption(19)

His mother made it clear on numerous occasions she disapproved of, even hated, Jessie. Maybe that’s why he’d been so determined to be her friend. Maybe that’s why when he noticed her as more than a friend, and his mother figured it out, as mothers do, she’d been adamant he not see her ever again. He never told his parents he had a date to the prom, and even went so far as to ask Jessie to meet him there instead of picking her up. Sneaky and cowardly on his part. He’d wanted to be with her that night without instigating a fight with his parents in order to do it.

When he’d left town, a small voice inside him told him to take her with him. He’d hated leaving her behind, but what could he do? She was fifteen and still in high school. He couldn’t ask her to run away with him and get away with it. If he’d known about the abuse, taken her away with him, she wouldn’t have been hurt, almost killed.

“Shit. I think she sent you that email. I can’t believe she’d do something so callous.”

“I can.”

“I’d never tell you I didn’t want anything to do with you, Jess. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. You have to know that after everything we shared. I have grieved every day for you, Jess.” He wanted to wrap her in his arms. Whatever was between them now, this anger she had for him, he wanted to make it disappear.

Jessie ignored those poignant words. She’d hated Dylan all this time for turning his back on her when she needed him most. She had a hard time switching gears. She clung to her anger, but turned it in his mother’s direction now. His mother sent the email. She choked back the bile rising in her throat. Even now, she felt the terrifying realization she was pregnant and unable to contact Dylan. His mother telling her he didn’t want her in the email and on the phone, going through the pregnancy alone, delivering their beautiful daughter . . . and losing her. The bitch had done it all because she found Jessie lacking and unsuitable for her only son.

She turned to Dylan, her emotions a whirlwind in her gut. “If she’d just given me your phone number, let me tell you, everything could have been so different. I swear to God, I’ll make her pay for this.”

Overwhelmed with sadness for all he’d missed, the anger washed over her again, and then came the misery she’d felt all those years ago when his mother told her Dylan didn’t want anything to do with her. A whirlwind of feelings and emotions she couldn’t hide from her face.

Dylan responded to her, his gentle tone coaxing her to talk to him, spill her guts, and unburden herself. “Jess, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Is this about what Buddy did to you? I should have protected you. I’m sorry. You must have been so angry when I left.”

“Hell yes, I was angry.” She couldn’t face the fact his mother lied. She wanted to deny someone, anyone, could be that cruel.

“There was more. So much more,” she said, her voice quieting.

“Jess, I don’t understand. Tell me why you called.”

“I didn’t come here to . . . rehash the past with you. I came to see Brian and set things right with him. I can’t do this with you, standing in the front yard in front of all the neighbors.”

“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

She couldn’t do this now, today, not when her emotions and the memories of what her father did to her, Dylan’s mother’s scathing words, and losing Hope swamped her every thought.

“As far as I’m concerned, all the anger and hurt over what happened has been directed at the wrong person. Am I angry you left? Hell yes.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating every word. “I blame you for not having the decency to say goodbye and tell me you were leaving. But what your mother did is unconscionable. She knew I was alive and didn’t tell you. She didn’t tell you I called because I needed you. No matter what she says, there is no excuse for what she’s done.”

“Jess, why did you need me? What happened with Buddy? There was blood. You must have been hurt pretty bad. Were you in a hospital? On the streets? What?”

“None of that matters compared to what I tried to tell you. If she’d simply given me your number, I could have told you.”

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t. Don’t you get it? Hurting you the way your mother hurt me will only make it worse.” He’d hate her. The thought closed off her throat and made the bile churn and burn in her gut. She pressed a hand to her stomach, unable to bring herself to speak the words.

Up until today, she’d have liked to hurt him, making his heart bleed the way he’d made hers tear to shreds, but not now. Not like this.