Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,29

her past. And her past most likely involved bigger monsters than Chris had ever encountered.

However, she couldn’t imagine losing her memory, no matter how awful some of her memories were. And for that reason, she refused to give up on Chris.

Max knocked on the door. Chris picked up his department store bags, a disappointed frown pinned to his face. She had disappointed him. Jersey didn’t feel bad about much. Years of abuse followed by years of surviving on her own left her emotionally crippled and calloused, but Chris affected her. She felt something real with him. They shared a vulnerability as much as they shared a survival instinct.

“I’ll see what I can get.”

Chris paused before opening the door. “Get?”

“Out of Ian. I’ll fish for something that tells me you’re right about him. And I’m sorry I can’t blindly trust you on this. It’s not you personally. It’s your memory I don’t know if I can totally trust. I just can’t target a man—this man—risking so much without being absolutely sure.”

After a few seconds of studying her, maybe gauging her honesty, he nodded.

“And he didn’t seem to recognize you at all. That doesn’t feel right.”

Chris’s face collapsed into a sullen expression.

Jersey shook her head. “You know what I mean. Your eyes, your voice … something about you has to be the same. Right?”

He continued to frown. Of course, he didn’t know.

“Ready?” Max greeted them with all smiles when Chris opened the door. She tapped her watch. “Let’s get out of here.”

They followed Max to the elevators.

“There’s room for you on one of the buses, after the concert tonight. Are you good with that or are you two …” Max’s gaze bounced between Jersey and Chris as the elevator descended to the lobby.

Chris ignored Jersey when she turned to him for an answer.

“No. I’m not fucking Jersey. Look at me for Christ’s sake. Only a blind woman would have sex with me, and even then … only if I paid her. The bus is fine.”

Jersey drew her head back and winced as his words pulled a bitter smile from her. Her gaze dropped to her feet until they reached the lobby. She liked Chris, finding comfort in his friendship. Not caring about his skin. She didn’t think of him like anything more than a brother. And she wanted to believe it wasn’t based on his injuries. Just like she wanted to believe the flutter in her tummy around Ian wasn’t because he looked like a god.

Was she that superficial?

She pushed that thought away. No … she wasn’t that person. Jersey knew what it felt like to be judged based on looks or life’s circumstances. Chris brought his own brand of crazy into her life. That was the unattractive part, not his skin.

And Ian … well, he looked at her like he understood her, even though there was no way he had an inkling what her life was really like. He felt like the day to her night and a promise on the distant horizon. The last time she felt so alive and filled with hope was during her six months with the Russells.

“The bus it is.” Max tucked her chin, focusing on her phone—or maybe hiding behind her long bangs.

Chris gave everyone the silent treatment on the way to the airport. He boarded the private jet without one look back at Jersey. Was he angry about Ian? Angry about riding the bus, or not having sex with Jersey? She didn’t know.

“Coming?” Max peered over her shoulder, paused halfway up the stairs of the jet.

Jersey stood idle at the bottom of the stairs, cracking her knuckles while swallowing hard. Then she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“First time flying?”

A nod.

“It’s fun. Safer than driving. And this is a short flight down to Charlottesville. A blink.”

Another nod, but no other movement on Jersey’s part.

Shane appeared at the top of the stairs. “I can carry her.”

Max held up her hand and gave him a subtle headshake before retreating back down the stairs. “You roughed up two guys twice your size last night. Get on the plane while you’re still my idol.”

Jersey rolled her shoulders, stilling her darting gaze on Max’s face and the mildly arrogant smirk tugging at her lips.

One step.

Two steps.

She swallowed her fear. It wasn’t the plane crashing. Jersey feared letting go of control, the familiar, a short train ride from the only place she’d ever known. After a brief stare off with the cheery blonde just inside the door to the plane,