Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Page 26

  “But she hasn’t been found. What if she—”

  “She won’t come near him again, won’t come near any of us, cos I will kill her if I see her again, and she knows that,” I lied, Jasper still in the dark about her death. He saw his auntie as a mother, and although he knew what she’d done to Dante was unforgiveable, I wasn’t sure he’d forgive his uncle for taking her life.

  I continued, “I don’t think she’ll ever come back, not if she wants to live.”

  He nodded, the pain in his eyes hard to look at.

  “So, we can’t let Dante know what she did. If he asks where she is, we’ll tell him that she moved to Australia. It’s what our sources say anyway.”

  Jasper nodded again. “Fine. But what ’bout Mrs. Hatton’s trial? He’s gonna find out ’bout her goin’ to jail when he returns to school.”

  I sneered. “There’s no way he’s returning to that fuckin’ shithole ever again. He can do correspondence. It won’t be for long, his sixteenth birthday isn’t far off.”

  “But it wuz all over the news, everyone—”

  “Doesn’t know he wuz the student. His face and name were kept outta the papers.”

  Jasper stared at me in disbelief. “So, you’re not gonna tell him ’bout Mrs. Hatton?”

  I nodded.

  “But what if he finds out what happened to her and—”

  I cut him off, “He can’t see her, she’s in prison, not to mention they won’t let him go near her. She’ll be in there for five years, three if she gets parole. And all cos she had a relationship with him. Do ya know what that would do to Dante if he found out she got locked away cos of him? Although it wuz her fault, he won’t see it that way. He’ll blame himself, then start obsessing over her, wanting to visit her, which he can’t. She’s not allowed anywhere near him, or any underage boy. And even if he waits until he’s old enough, I don’t want him goin’ near her after what she did. Do you?”

  “Don’t cha think he should decide that?”

  I shook my head. “She’s a convicted crim now, and she’ll be put on the sex offenders list. Also, when she gets out, she won’t be interested in Dante, he’ll look too old for her tastes.”

  “I don’t think she’s like that, and Dante doesn’t look like a kid now anyway, so that argument doesn’t fly.”

  “He is a kid and that bitch fucked with his mind,” I snapped. “There’s no way I want that paedo near my son ever again. He needs to be with someone his own age, not some woman who can’t keep her filthy hands offa kids.”

  “But what if he starts remembering?”

  “Don’t tell him anything unless he asks, and keep your answers to a bare minimum. I’ll make sure the rest of his family knows the deal. Tell his mates to keep it on the low, too.”

  “What ’bout the Devil’s Crew attack?”

  “We’ll tell him ’bout that, say they attacked our crib, and who died.” I paused at Jasper’s strained expression. I stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “I know this is hard for you, Jasper. I know it’ll bring everything back like it wuz yesterday. We can let it wait for a day or two. Let us just enjoy the fact that Dante’s back. That we haven’t lost him.”

  Jasper nodded, looking relieved.

  I patted his arm. “Now, go back to him while I go find a doc to check him over.”

  Jasper didn’t move, then out of the blue he broke down, right there in front of me, just collapsed to the floor, sobbing his heart out. I stared for a moment, the suddenness taking me by surprise. He continued to cry, the pain the boy was in hitting me in the chest.

  I lowered myself to the floor and pulled him into my arms, hugging him tight, murmuring, “It’s gonna be all right.”

  Though, I wasn’t so sure it would be. Jasper had attempted suicide a third time. He’d tried to overdose on a cocktail of pills. The doctors had to pump his stomach, a stomach that was already damaged. He’d flat-lined, but the doctors had fought hard, managing to bring him back. Jasper had been angry when he’d woken up, furious with the doctors. He didn’t want to be saved. He wanted to die. He said that life was just too hard. And he was right. Life was hard. It had no smooth edges, only rough ones, like a jagged pill. It cut our throats on the way down, making us bleed out one moment, then soar to the heavens the next. It was a paradox, something we either swallowed down or choked on.

  And although Jasper was choking on life right now, I knew Dante could help him. My boy was larger than life, a kid who lived for the highs, no matter how many lows he was given. Dante was strong, and he would make Jasper strong again. I knew that, I just needed Jasper to hold on long enough for him to realise it too.

  I ran a hand over Jasper’s head, saying the only thing I could. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

  ***

  After Jasper calmed down enough, I took him back to Dante, then went and got a doctor. And the smile I saw Jasper give Dante when I returned with the doctor was enough to give me hope that Dante could help the poor kid.

  Dante looked up at me with a smile of his own as I neared his bed. He was a lot thinner than when he’d come in, but he would bounce back, I knew that. His dark eyes moved to the doctor, who instantly went to work, asking Dante questions, all safe ones, since he was unaware that Dante was the boy involved with the ‘Blonde Bombshell’ from the newspapers. Something Mrs. Hatton was not. She wasn’t anything like what the articles had made her out to be. Instead, she was a small, broken woman serving time in jail for what she’d done to... no, with my boy. I had no delusions about what my son was like, what he was capable of, but he was still a kid and she should’ve known better. She deserved the punishment she was getting. Regardless, I was still going to go visit her to let her know that Dante had pulled through. She’d deserved that one small courtesy after she’d helped save his life. But if Jasper was right about her being genuinely interested in Dante and not his youth, I also needed to make sure she didn’t try to seek him out after her release.

  I shoved Killer’s shoulder. “Give Jasper your chair, you lazy bugger.”

  He scowled up at me. “There are other chairs.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I wanna talk to you. So up.”

  I headed out of the room, Killer rushing after me. As soon as we’d turned the corner, I grabbed his arm, levelling him with a stare. “Jasper has agreed to make sure Dante doesn’t find out what your sister did to him. As far as Dante’s concerned, Ngaire’s in Australia.”

  He nodded.

  “And don’t mention anything ’bout his teacher.”

  “Fine by me, but what ’bout everyone else who knows?”

  “I’ll make sure they keep their traps shut, and anyway, most people don’t know that Dante wuz the student due to the name suppression.”

  “It could still come out,” he said, glancing down at my hand.

  Realising I was still holding his arm, I let go. I hadn’t seen him much over the past couple of weeks. He’d been busy watching Jasper, not letting his nephew out of his sight, fearful the boy would try to commit suicide again. And I fucking missed him. The longing look Killer was giving me suggested he’d missed me too.

  “We won’t lie,” I said, getting us back on topic. “We just won’t mention it. My boy has other things he can remember, good things, he doesn’t need to know the bad ones too. If you could wipe the bad shit from Jasper’s mind, would you?”

  “In an instant,” he answered without hesitation.

  “I want the same for Dante. Let him be a kid again. Let him not be filled with guilt ’bout a teacher he doesn’t even remember, cos he will feel guilty if he knows she’s in prison for touching him.”

  Killer nodded again.

  Grateful for his cooperation, I patted his cheek. He grabbed my hand, stopping me from moving it away. He brushed a kiss over my knuckles, the sweetheart making my dick ache along with my heart, because of late he was constantly on my mind. I didn’t like it, not one bit. I knew I was starting to get attached, our ti
me apart highlighting just how much I wanted to be with him.

  I went to pull my hand away, my innate ability to fuck things up strong. But I stopped as he moved his face in front of mine, the raw need in his hazel eyes capturing me. Next thing, he was pushing me against the wall, pinning me there. He went to kiss me, but I shoved him away. Then I was pulling him back, yanking him to me by his leather cut. I spun him around and shoved him against the wall, smashing my lips against his, kissing the fuck out of him. I no longer cared where we were, Killer neither. He was devouring my mouth, taking whatever he could get.

  A loud, “What the fuck?” shattered the moment.

  I broke the kiss and looked over my shoulder. Jasper was staring at us with wide, shocked eyes.

  “What the fuck?” he repeated, looking like he’d been hit by a train.

  I let go of Killer. Killer also let go of me. He looked worried, probably thinking I was going to deny him like I’d done with Rafael, but I couldn’t deny what Jasper had seen, not to mention I was fucking hard as a rock. My cock was straining against my leather pants, trying its upmost to escape.

  Jasper’s eyes dropped to it, another, “What the fuck?” escaping his lips.

  I gave my cock a whack, wincing at the contact, but needing to get it under control. “Yeah,” I grunted. “Your uncle makes me hard. You got a problem with that?”

  Jasper’s dumbfounded expression turned to disgust. “Please don’t tell me you two are fucking.”

  I looked back at Killer, who was staring at me with wide eyes. I smiled at him, no longer willing to deprive myself. “Sorry, Jasper, but that’s what boyfriends do. Or is it lovers? Dunno what you’d call us.”

  Killer’s eyes went even wider, then a beautiful smile broke out across his face, so beautiful it fucking melted me. “Boyfriends, definitely boyfriends,” he said.

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

  I stepped in closer, our bodies now flush against each other. I cupped his face and kissed him. Yeah, I was definitely done with denying myself. I wanted him. He wanted me. And everyone else could go fuck themselves if they had a problem with that.

  Killer grabbed my head and kissed me back, tongue and all.

  “Gross!” Jasper yelled.

  I broke the kiss and glanced back at him. He disappeared into Dante’s room. Next thing, Dante was hollering, “No way!”

  Killer burst out laughing, his hyena cackle filling the corridor.

  21

  Clara

  At first I wasn’t going to agree to meet Dante’s father when he’d requested to visit me in prison. But I quickly changed my mind. No matter how terrifying the man was, not knowing how Dante was doing was far more terrifying. My father had told me he’d found out that Dante had woken from his coma, but that was it. I knew nothing else. And I needed to know. Needed to know desperately. Anything to give me hope, something that was sorely lacking in prison. I’d been in jail for a few months now and it was even more harrowing than I’d thought it would be. If my case hadn’t been so high profile, if the women in the prison hadn’t known why I was here, I might have been fine. Might have been able to handle the intrusiveness, the humiliation of body searches, the loss of my rights. But with them knowing, it had made it far, far worse. The women thought I’d abused a young boy, someone that truly looked like a child, not someone who could seduce older women without them knowing his age. And because of that, I was walking towards the visitation room with a black-eye and badly bruised ribs, amongst other things, every slight movement hurting. The authorities were meant to shift me to the secure unit, but I was wondering whether that was ever going to happen. It didn’t help that one of the guards hated me. He’d watched me get beat up, only coming to my aid when another guard had stumbled onto the scene. But of course, no one believed me. The trial had painted me as a liar. A child abuser. Which was the lowest of the low in prison.

  I continued down the corridor, the guard who hated me at my back. “You’re walking slow today, Hatton,” McAvoy said.

  I didn’t reply, even though I wanted to snap that my name was Hughes. I’d told him enough times to call me by my maiden name, but he refused to, knowing it riled me. So I kept my eyes straight ahead, focused on the door at the end of the corridor, instead of snapping back.

  Another guard opened the door to the visitation room. As soon as I’d stepped through it, I saw Dante’s father. Dressed in his requisite leathers, he was sitting at a table, glaring at a woman across the room, looking like he wanted to skin her alive. Even though she had a visitor, her gaze kept flicking to Mr. Rata, the two obviously knowing one another. But I didn’t care about their history. All I cared about was finding out how Dante was doing.

  I sucked in a deep breath and headed for the man. His dark gaze shifted to me as I neared the table. One of his eyebrows shot up as he took in my black-eye and bruised jaw, the scratch marks on my cheeks stinging. A slow grin spread across his face, almost evil, the arsehole obviously taking pleasure in my pain.

  Without a word, I pulled out the chair and sat down at the table. “How’s Dante?” I asked, no hello or how are you, because I didn’t give a shit how he was, only his son.

  His grin disappeared, making me tense up, worry instantly seeping in.

  “He’s all right, isn’t he?” I asked, terrified he was going to say no, that Dante had been left with brain damage or was paralysed.

  “He’s fine,” he said, his gaze zeroing in on my black-eye. “Though, from the looks of it, you’re not doin’ so good.”

  I waved my hand dismissively, not interested in talking about me, only Dante. “Tell me how Dante is? Has he sustained any lasting injuries? Is he different at all?”

  Mr. Rata leaned back in his chair and crossed his muscular arms over his chest, again staring at me.

  “Just tell me!” I yelled.

  “Hatton!” McAvoy barked. “Keep it down or your visitation will be cut short.”

  I stiffened, but refrained from snapping back. I wanted to know Mr. Rata’s answer—and I wasn’t leaving until I got it.

  “Tell me,” I hissed.

  “As I said, he’s fine.” He rocked forward on his chair and placed his tattooed forearms on the table, looking me straight in the eye. “So fine, he can’t remember you.”

  “What?” I said, not sure if I’d heard him right.

  “He doesn’t remember you. When he woke up, he thought it wuz January, that the accident had happened on the way back from his summer holiday.”

  I stared at him, my heart slamming against my chest. All that had happened to me. Losing my job. My Husband. Going through the trial. Going to jail. Getting pushed around and beat up. None of that compared to what he was saying.

  That Dante didn’t remember me.

  He continued, “The doctors said that memory loss is common with head trauma. That people can lose chunks of time, and that they may never get those memories back. Though, one of the doctors said that we can help Dante to remember, but I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Why?” I cried.

  I couldn’t handle Dante not remembering me, couldn’t bare another day in here knowing that what we had was gone from his mind. He wouldn’t love me anymore. Wouldn’t remember that I loved him with all my heart and soul.

  His father frowned at me. “I don’t want Dante remembering bein’ raped.”

  “I didn’t rape him.”

  “I’m not referring to you. I realise he consented with you, even though he wuz too young to do so.” He bit off the last part, anger flashing in his eyes, accusing me. But all I heard was that Dante had been raped.

  My mind went to one of Dante’s poems. It had mentioned rape, but he’d said it had been about his brother’s rape at the hands of their stepfather. But I’d known. Known deep down it was more personal, had even confronted him about it at his house. And he’d admitted he knew what it was like to be forced, just hadn’t admitted who had hurt him. I’d thought it had been his stepfather, but that wo
uld’ve been when he was younger, not since I’d known him.

  “Who?” I said, horrified. “When?”

  “Someone he considered an auntie. She blackmailed him into having sex with her, holding things he did over his head. Things he didn’t want me to know ’bout, cos he wuz scared ’bout how I would react. So that poor kid let that bitch,” he spat, “do shit to him against his will, and there’s no way in hell I want him remembering that.”

  I didn’t reply, not knowing what to say or how to react. So I stayed frozen in the nightmare of what he’d said. Not allowing my mind to work, not allowing the pain that I knew was coming to tip me over the edge.

  He extended a hand towards my face, but I didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He could hit me for all I cared.

  He waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you all there?”

  “He can’t know,” I croaked out. “He can’t find out.”

  He retracted his hand, a frown creasing his brow. “I know. It’s why when ya get out, I can’t have ya tryna find him. I don’t want him to ever remember what that sick bitch did to him. I don’t want him to remember you either. My boy is soft on women. He’ll feel nuthin’ but guilt when he learns what happened to you. He won’t see it as bein’ your fault, he’ll wear the blame. I can’t allow that to happen, especially now he’s acting like a kid again, the same kid I had before school started.” His frown deepened. “Before he met you.”

  I didn’t say anything. Knew what all this meant.

  I’d lost Dante.

  Forever.

  I nodded.

  He gave me a funny look. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

  “I want what’s best for Dante,” not what’s best for me.

  “So, you’re willing to give him up? To not come after him when ya get outta ’ere?”

  “Yes,” I forced out.

  He stared at me for a moment, looking surprised. “So, ya don’t care you’ll never see him again?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said, feeling numb.

  “What are ya saying, then?”

  “I love him. I want what’s best for him.”