28. Jerome

Chapter 28

Jerome

I shifted slightly on the plush couch, posture rigid despite the soft cushions. Raven's living room was a, far removed from the starkness of my own apartment.

"Life has a way of throwing curveballs, doesn't it?" Raven mused, her voice a gentle contralto that wrapped around me like a blanket.

I nodded, a noncommittal grunt escaping me, as I fought the instinct to keep my guard up. My gaze lingered on the array of abstract paintings that adorned the walls—vivid strokes of color that seemed almost alive in the dim lighting. They were distractions from the conversation at hand, a welcome reprieve from the questions simmering between us.

"Your turn," she said softly, inviting yet not demanding. "What about you? What's your story?"

The question hung in the air, and for a brief moment, I considered deflecting. The weight of my past pressing against my chest, a heavy burden I had carried for so long. My eyes darted to Raven's, and I saw the genuine curiosity there, the kindness that had slowly chipped away at my defenses.

"Where do I even begin?" I asked rhetorically, voice betraying a hint of hesitance. My fingers traced the stitching on the couch, the tactile sensation grounding me. Raven deserved to know who she was letting into her life, especially now with the shadows that lurked just beyond her spotlighted world.

"Start anywhere," Raven encouraged, leaning back against the cushions. "Every story has its chapters."

"Alright," I conceded, taking a deep breath that did little to calm the thrumming of my heart. "I guess... I've always been drawn to adventure, to the unknown." I paused, gauging her reaction, finding nothing but encouragement in her steady gaze.

"Even as a kid, huh?" Her smile was light, teasing out my own.

"Especially as a kid. Always the explorer, looking for trouble." I managed a half-smile, the memories bitter-sweet as they surfaced. "But adolescence... that was a whole different battleground."

Raven tilted her head, listening intently, her presence a silent anchor as I navigated the choppy waters of my past. My eyes flickered momentarily, vulnerability creeping in before I steeled myself. "You know how it is—trying to figure out who you are, where you fit in this mess we call the world."

"Of course," she whispered, understanding flashing across her features.

My hands clenched involuntarily, the ghost of old struggles tightening around my fists. "It wasn't easy. Never is, right? But I found my way eventually. Or rather, it found me."

I exhaled slowly, the air leaving my lungs as if it carried the weight of years gone by. There was more to tell, so much more, but the words lodged in my throat, each one laced with a cocktail of pride and pain I wasn't sure I was ready to share.

"Jerome," Raven said, her tone softer than before, "you don't have to—"

"No, I want to," I interjected. "It's just... some things are harder to talk about than others."

"Only share what you're comfortable with."

"Let's just say," I continued, "those challenges pushed me towards a path I never expected to take. One that made me who I am today." My stare drifted out the window.

"Sounds like a hell of a journey," Raven said, her voice tinged with awe and something else—respect, maybe.

"Yeah, it's been... something else." I let out a chuckle devoid of humor, mind warring with the decision to delve deeper or retreat behind my carefully constructed walls.

For a moment, neither spoke, the silence stretching comfortably between us. But the quiet also spoke volumes, echoing with the words unspoken and stories untold, waiting for the right moment to break free.

Raven tilted her head, a strand of chestnut hair falling over her cheek as she studied me.

"Jerome," she started gently, breaking the quiet. "Whatever it is, whatever you've been through, I'm here. And I want to understand."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her gaze like a physical touch. It nudged at the locked doors within me, doors I'd bolted shut long ago. But now, with Raven's unwavering presence, they creaked open a fraction.

"Growing up," I began, voice steady yet laced with a hint of nostalgia, "I was always the kid with his nose buried in books. My parents worried I'd become a recluse, holed up in my room, dreaming of adventures instead of living them."

A smile tugged at the corner of Raven's lips. "But you did live them, didn't you? Your career... it's taken you places most people only read about."

"Eventually, yes." I chuckled, but it was a sound laced with countless miles and memories. "When I was twelve, I saved every penny from odd jobs just to buy a second-hand globe. I'd spin it every night before bed, promising myself that one day, I'd visit each country my finger landed on."

"Did you keep that promise?" Raven leaned forward.

"Many times over." My eyes sparkled with a rare joy as I allowed myself to revisit those childhood dreams. "I've walked through the ruins of Machu Picchu, navigated the streets of Casablanca, and watched the sunset from a dhow on the Indian Ocean. Each place taught me something new, something precious."

"Like what?"

"Like how vast and varied this world is. How different cultures can be, yet how similar people are at their core." I paused, eyes reflecting the myriad experiences etched into my soul. "How to find a home away from home, even if it's just for a while."

"Sounds incredibly lonely and incredibly freeing at the same time," Raven mused.

"It was both," I admitted, the truth of it settling. "But those journeys, they shaped me. Taught me resilience. Adaptability. The importance of a global perspective."

"Qualities that served you well in your military career," she said, connecting the dots of my life's mosaic.

"Exactly. Those travels were the prologue to everything that came after. They made me who I am today."

"Someone strong. Someone brave," Raven added softly, her hand finding mine, a silent commendation of the road I'd traveled. "Someone I'm very glad to have met."

My heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through me at her touch, at her words. For a moment, I let the walls around my heart crumble brick by brick.

"There's more." I shifted slightly, the leather of the plush couch creaking under my weight. I hesitated, a shadow crossing my features as I ventured into a more turbulent chapter of my past. "Teenage years are rough for everyone, I guess," I started, voice dropping an octave, tinged with the remnants of old battles fought within. "For me, it was like standing at a crossroads with no signposts."

"Which way did you go?"

"In every direction, at first." I chuckled without humor, eyes darkening. "I tried fitting into different crowds, experimenting with hobbies, even shifting my style. But nothing felt right. I was... adrift, searching for a compass to guide me."

"Until you found one?" she probed gently.

"Until I found him—Mr. Davis." My voice warmed with gratitude. "He was my high school history teacher, ex-military. The man had a presence, you know? Disciplined, focused, but fair. He saw something in me that I hadn't yet seen in myself."

"What did he see?" Raven leaned closer, her interest genuine.

"Potential," I said with conviction. "He recognized my restlessness not as a weakness but as energy misdirected. He channeled it, became a mentor. Taught me about honor, duty, the value of serving something greater than oneself."

"Is that what led you to enlist?"

"Partly." I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting in a rare, appreciative smile. "But it was more than that. Mr. Davis gave me a framework to understand my own identity. Through his stories, I learned about courage in adversity, camaraderie, the weight of responsibility. He made me realize that I wanted—needed—to be part of a brotherhood that stood for those ideals."

"Sounds like he was a reAlexable man," Raven said, squeezing my hand.

"ReAlexable doesn't quite cover it." I glanced away, gaze flickering with unspoken emotion. "He gave me the map I was missing, Raven. Showed me that the struggles I faced were stepping stones to becoming the man I was meant to be. Without him, I might've never found my path."

"Or me," Raven whispered, half-joking yet entirely sincere.

"Or you," I echoed in agreement, heart acknowledging the truth in her words. The journey of my youth, with its trials and tribulations, had indeed led me here—to this woman who saw me for who I truly was. And for the first time in a long while, I felt profoundly grateful for each twist and turn of that winding road.

Raven leaned back, giving me space, her eyes never leaving my face. I appreciated that—her respect for my struggle, her patience. It felt like permission, a gentle nudge to continue.

"Being in the military," I started, pausing as if the weight of my service pressed against my chest. "It changes you. You see things. Do things. Carry things home that you wish you could leave behind."

"Carry things like what?"

"Responsibility for lives," I whispered. "Sometimes it's the lives you save. And sometimes... it's the ones you can't."

"Jerome..."

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the resolve that had seen me through countless missions. "There was this one time—we were deployed in a hostile zone. Our intel was solid, or so we thought." My hand balled into a fist, the knuckles whitening. "We walked into an ambush. Lost good men that day..."

I didn't elaborate further, didn't need to.

"Thank you for trusting me with this."

Sharing my past with Raven was like shedding armor I hadn't realized I'd been wearing. It left me exposed, yes, but lighter somehow. And as I met her gaze, I saw not pity but strength reflecting back at him—a strength I knew would help me face whatever lay ahead.

The conversation needed to shift. After everything that had been going on, it wouldn't be right not to look into her ex- husband further. He was the most likely suspect especially after the vows incident.

I excused myself with a gesture that spoke of a need for fresh air more than any words could. Stepping through the sliding glass doors, I emerged onto Raven's balcony.

"Come on, Pete," I said softly, thumbing the contact and bringing the phone to my ear. The dial tone hummed—a countdown to the moment I'd break the silence that had enveloped my past since I'd left the service. The call connected, and the ringing stopped abruptly.

"Jerome? What's up?" came the voice on the other end, clear and alert.

"Hey, Pete. I need you to look into something for me." The words were measured, every syllable laced with a blend of urgency and determination that left no room for argument.

"Anything, you know that. What do you need?" Pete responded with the readiness of a man who understood the stakes without needing them spelled out.

"Background check. Deep dive. There's someone that might be a threat. Raven's ex-husband might be more than just a nuisance. I need to know what we're dealing with."

"Understood. You think he had something to do with the break-in?" Pete's voice was both inquisitive and efficient, the sound of keystrokes punctuating his words.

"Honestly, it could've been him. We need to cover our bases."

"Got it. You think this guy's capable of escalating things?"

"Can't rule it out. And I can't let her get hurt, Pete."

"Hey, you know I've got your back. 'll pull everything I can find on the guy. Anything for Raven's safety—and yours."

"Thanks, man. I'm counting on you."

"Keep your phone close. I'll update you ASAP." With those final words of assurance, Pete ended the call, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Raven was inside, unaware of the lengths to which I'd go to keep her safe. In that moment, I felt the full gravity of my role—not just as a protector, but as someone who had inadvertently stepped into the crosshairs alongside her.

With a deep breath, I reentered the living room.

Raven glanced up from where she sat. "Everything okay?"

"Better than okay," I assured her, offering a smile that reached my eyes. I took a seat beside her, feeling the subtle shift of the cushions. "I made a promise to keep you safe, Raven. It's more than a job—it's personal now."

She searched my face, her eyes reflecting a mix of appreciation and something else that I couldn't quite decipher. "You don't have to do this alone, you know. I'm not just a damsel in distress."

"I know," I replied, tone softening. "But it's hard to shake off old habits. Protection is what I do. It's who I am."

"Even protectors need someone to lean on sometimes," Raven countered, her hand finding its way to rest lightly on my arm. "We're in this together."

Together . The word resonated with me, warming me more than any shield from the evening chill could. I nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. "Together."