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Stay(61)

By:Emily Goodwin


I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but my words twisted into a sob, and I pitched forward. Jackson put his hand on my arm, gently pushing me upright. Without even thinking about it, I threw my arms around him. His body stiffened, and he put his arms out by his sides, unsure of what to do. Cautiously, he bent his elbows and placed his palms on my back.

I buried my head into his shoulder, crying. He tightened his embrace. His arms around me were so comforting, so reassuring, so needed.

“I told you to get back to work!” Nate growled and stormed over. He grabbed a tangle of Jackson’s hair and yanked. Not balanced, Jackson tumbled back off of his knees. I went with him and awkwardly landed on top of him. Nate reached down and grabbed my shoulders. He shoved me back.

It took a great amount of energy to pull myself to my feet. I turned and faced Nate. “You’re a monster,” I said through clenched teeth. As if he didn’t even hear me, Nate walked back to the porch. He put his hand on the keypad, punched in the combination, and walked into the house.

“I’m really sorry, Addie,” Jackson said again as he stood, unable to meet my eyes.

I wiped tears from my face. “It’s not your fault,” I sniffled. “Don’t apologize.” I shot a look at the house. I picked dry leaves from my hair and blotted my nose with the sleeve of the jacket. I took in a shaky breath. The cold air rushed through me, stinging my broken heart. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the spot where Rosie lay.

Jackson took off his jacket and covered the dog. Then he picked up his shovel and walked to the side of the porch.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going to bury her.”

I nodded, blinking away the tears that were still coming, and picked up my shovel. Together, we silently dug a hole just deep enough to hold Rosie’s body. I turned away when Jackson scooped her up.

“I’ll finish it, Addie,” he said gently. I didn’t want to make him do all the work, but I couldn’t turn around.

“It’s done,” he said when he had piled the dirt back into the hole. I turned around. Pain stabbed me when I looked at the fresh grave.

“Thank you,” I said through chattering teeth.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“I think so.” I was sure I had to be cold. I was just too numb to be able to tell anything at that moment. “You have to be too.” His coat was still on the ground.

“Digging warmed me up.”

I nodded. “Should we finish?” I waved my hand at the bushes.

“Yeah. You don’t have to. I’ll do it.”

No, I told myself and picked up the shovel. I rammed it into the hard ground, pretending it was Nate’s abdomen. I wasn’t going to give up and fall apart. I was going to escape and turn Nate in. I had to. I needed to.

Jackson let his shovel fall and bent over. He grabbed the bush and pulled. I snapped out of my dark reverie and moved over. Channeling my rage, I hacked at the roots, and the bush broke free. Jackson stumbled back, not expecting it to come loose so easily. He tossed the bush aside and picked up his shovel again.#p#分页标题#e#

The front door opened again. Nate stepped out. He was wearing a different outfit and looked just as well put together as before in a pristinely pressed black and gray suit with a satin blue tie. “Inside,” he ordered and slammed the door shut.

Jackson took the shovel from me. I followed him around the house and into the shed, not speaking. I stepped aside and watched him lock the shed doors, then walked close to his side as we went back around the house.

We went into the garage and stomped the mud off of our boots. Jackson turned to me. Our eyes met, and suddenly I wanted him to wrap his arms around me in another comforting embrace. My heart sped up. He opened his mouth to say something else when a car pulled into the driveway, the bright lights illuminating the interior of the garage.

“Zane,” he mumbled and punched in the code. He opened the door and held out his arm, signaling me to enter first. I hurried into the house, removing the gloves and jacket. Jackson followed me to the basement door.

“I’ll bring food down later,” he told me.

I nodded and looked into his eyes. I didn’t want to go downstairs. I didn’t want to be away from Jackson. The garage door slammed shut, reminding me that Zane was back. I didn’t want to see him, either.

I walked down the stairs and collapsed onto my cot. I cried for a while before rolling over, thinking about the comfort Jackson’s embrace had brought. I held onto the memory, remembering the warmth of his arms. I began to feel sleepy when the basement door opened. I sat up, expecting Jackson.