Heartbreak Lover (Broken Hearts Academy #2) - C.R. Jane Page 0,62
that,” she giggled.
I then proceeded to tell her about our interaction in the hallway, and her smile and laugh quickly faded.
“He’s a sociopath.”
I nodded, still wondering how I’d missed so many signs. I was obviously terrible at seeing who someone really was. I’d missed the signs with Landry and Professor Brady as well, which reminded me that I still needed to figure out how I was going to handle class next week with him.
But what else was I missing?
I studied Lane intently. She was in full freak-out mode, her pink-streaked hair waving agitatedly around her as she muttered something about busting a cap on Caiden’s ass while she nervously bit her fingernails.
How well did I know her? Had I missed something with her as well?
I suddenly felt very much alone. I didn’t want to live a life where I doubted everyone’s intentions around me, but it was looking like I needed to start thinking that way.
“You’re going to tell Jackson, right?” Lane asked.
I nodded. “I’m done hiding stuff from him. I just need to wait until he gets home on Sunday night. I don’t want anything to mess up his training camp. This could be a huge opportunity for him.”
She eyed me doubtfully. “I think he’d want to know if his psychotic twin was threatening his girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. I swirled the word around in my mouth, trying to taste it and see if I liked it. This thing between Jackson and I seemed so much bigger than the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” After that moment in the wildflowers, the word that best seemed to fit what Jackson and I had was “forever.”
And that was terrifying to me.
I wanted to tell Lane about Jackson’s bipolar diagnosis right then. It would be nice to be able to have someone to talk about it with. That last episode he’d had was excruciating to think about. I had to accept that loving Jackson would always come with some very dark times. But maybe that was actually how it had to be. Jackson had to have something marring his golden perfection in order for me to fit with him. I’d always hurt beneath the scars that covered my soul. I needed someone who had damage too.
I pursed my mouth and kept my silence.
“Caiden’s not going to do anything in the next two days,” I told her.
“Just take him seriously this time.”
I grimaced at her warning as I thought about that summer. It had been like what I imagine a frog felt like as it was cooked to death in water turned up incrementally.
That was how that summer had been. Actions taken incrementally until it was too late.
“I know who he is now. He won’t catch me off guard again,” I told her, but even as the words left my mouth, I wondered if they were true. Did anyone know the real Caiden? If Jackson, who shared a womb with him, couldn’t see past his mask, I wasn’t sure that anyone really knew who he was.
I could taste fear in my mouth, and I hated it. Caiden was always there, even when he’d been in a coma, his influence on my life immeasurable since we’d first met.
Was there a day that I’d be able to truly escape him? I wasn’t sure how it would happen. I just prayed it did.
“Okay, enough about my drama. Tell me all about your date with Brad!” I told Lane, and off she went. We spent the next hour examining every move he’d made until we determined that Brad was hopelessly in love with Lane, as he should be.
After we’d binged ourselves on junk food, bad chick flicks, and a few more margaritas, we got ready for bed. I was able to spend the night in her room, since her roommate was with her boyfriend for the night.
I hadn’t heard from Jackson yet today, so I decided to text him. He’d told me that basically every hour was planned at the camp, so it was expected, but I missed him like crazy.
It was slightly pathetic.
Me: Hi.
Five minutes passed and he hadn’t texted back, and Lane was snoring softly in her bed, telling me I should probably go to sleep. Heaven only knew how much sleep I would be getting when I had to go back to my room tomorrow night.
My phone buzzed.
Jackson: Hi baby.
The butterflies in my stomach began to dance at his text. We were doing this. He was calling me baby. This small thing felt big for us.