I stop, and nod, looking down. I reach into the pocket of my jeans and take out the two stones that Andrea gave me, and set them on the table. “If I regret anything about the time I spent with Katrina, it's not that she died. It's not that I'm still living, because as long as I do, there's a part of her that won't die. My only regret... my only regrets are that I didn't have a chance to apologize to her for letting money come between us... and I regret not telling her that I love her. I’ll always love her. As we were leaving the plantation, Andrea gave me these two stones, saying that I should give them to someone special someday. I've carried them for the past seven hours in my pocket... and I don't want them anymore. Because the only woman I want to give them to is Katrina.”
“How?”
I look at the figure, who's stepped closer, kneeling down on the other side of the coffee table. “If I could, the diamond would be in her engagement ring... and the sapphire would be in a necklace that I'd give her on our wedding day. The blue is the same shade as her eyes were. So yeah, I guess your answer to your question is, yes. I love Katrina, even if she's gone.”
The figure reaches for the chin of its mask, pushing it up, and my jaw comes unhinged, dropping into my chest.
“I'm not gone,” Katrina says, pushing the mask off and the hood back. “I'm right here, Jackson. And I love you, too.”
Chapter 30
Kat
At first, Jackson stares at me, and I can see the thoughts running through his head. The first thought is that he's gone insane, that he's hallucinating, that somehow, the stress and maybe a bit of dehydration have pushed him over the edge for a little while. Next, he thinks that this is some sort of trick, maybe someone in an elaborate makeup job.
But then the truth comes through, and a complex brew of emotions boils inside him. “K... Katrina?” he stutters, and I nod, unzipping my cloak and pulling it off my shoulders. “But how?”
“After our fight, I had to be sure,” I say, staying right where I am. It feels appropriate to be on my knees, penitent before him. “I had to make sure that I could complete my mission without you warning or trying to save your dad. Nathan helped me fake the shooting, and Andrea faked the text message from Peter.”
Jackson sits back, hurt and angry, and I understand. “You didn't trust me enough to do it?”
“When Nathan and Andrea approached me, no. I loved you, but I knew that you hadn't grown enough at that point. I had to make sure that I could take down Peter. If I didn't, he'd haunt us for the rest of our lives. Hell, I’d be haunted by dedicating so much of my life to it and not succeeding.”
Jackson gets up, trying to control his emotions, and walks around the table, pacing back and forth in front of the window, wringing his hands. “You let Nathan and Andrea know—you obviously had their help in all of this—and you couldn't tell me? Was I just some pawn in your little game? Some puppet to be controlled, like the way Peter controlled other people?”
I lower my head, his words stinging, piercing to my very heart. “Jackson... I'm sorry. To get a monster, I became a monster, and nothing was more monstrous than what I did to you. If it means anything, after Darcy and Andrea talked with me, I did put it all in your hands. That was no lie. You had full control of when to take down Peter. The only thing I did was edit the information released to make sure that it was as tightly focused on Peter as I could make it, to limit the collateral damage.”
Jackson stops and turns, looking at me carefully. “Why?”
“Because the first thing I thought of after Andrea woke me up was the look I saw on your face when the fake drive-by happened. Because I realized I'd made a mistake and rushed too quickly. I was too concerned about trying to get it done fast so that you and I could move on, and not doing it the right way. But it was too late. I couldn't take it back. I had to sit here, waiting for the whole thing to come to a head. I put you through hell, and all I could do was sit here and hope that you’d follow Nathan's paper. All I could do was hope that... that you're better than me.”
I look down, resting my hands in my lap, ashamed to even look at Jackson any longer. What the hell was I thinking, setting up this elaborate scheme, and all to do what? Test his mental strength? What the hell is wrong with me? What was the purpose of this? I love him, and he loves me. Isn't that supposed to be more important than anything else?
I'm still looking down when I see Jackson's shadow fall over me, and I don't move, closing my eyes instead. I deserve to have him walk out on me and never come back. Instead, I hear Jackson shift around, and I open my eyes to see him kneeling down in front of me and take my hands in his. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he says softly, squeezing my fingers. “You had every logical reason to doubt me, and it was only after the past weeks of living in your loft, living the way you have for ten years, that I really understood in my gut what you've put yourself through. You opened your heart to me, wanting me to show you that there's a future between us, and I took the most precious gift you could have given me, and I was worried about money, of all things. Can you forgive me?”