Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jackson

Alone in my bed, I spent a restless night haunted by nightmares of Russell. Knowing he was dead wasn’t even enough to convince my brain I was safe.

I was starting to wonder if I would ever truly be free from him.

Sleep or no sleep, Sunday morning started bright and early with a call from my mom. “Morning, Jackson!” Her cheery voice rang through the phone, exactly the same as it did every week, bringing a small smile to my face.

“Morning, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?” Her tone changed instantly.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.” I stifled a yawn. “I was asleep, that’s all.”

“Jackson”—I could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other line—“I’m your mother. I can tell by your voice that everything is not fine. What’s going on? Rough case?”

I forced myself out of bed and headed for the coffee pot, knowing we were in for a long conversation. “Russell’s dead.”

The other line was so quiet I thought I had lost her.

“Mom?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just processing that. How?”

“Looks like an overdose.”

She was silent for a beat. “Will it offend you if I say that’s kind of fitting?”

I snorted. “Nah.”

“You know I have a hard time feeling compassion for him after the way he treated you,” she said, her voice quiet. “But I also understand he was your father. I want you to know that you’re allowed to feel however you feel about it. It’s okay to be happy, sad, or both. This is complicated, and whatever you’re feeling? It’s okay with me.”

I gripped the phone in my hand and closed my eyes, leaning back against the counter. “Thanks, Mom. I think I’m feeling a lot of different things honestly. Relief. Hurt. You’re right. It’s complicated.”

“What do you need right now?”

I smiled, unable to help it. It was Mom’s favorite question. She asked because she legitimately wanted to know, and if she could meet that need, she would. She was one of those rare people you could actually count on.

But the image that sprang to mind wasn’t something she could give me. I needed Allison. And that was the one thing I couldn’t have. Not in the way I wanted, anyway.

So I shifted my mind to more practical things. “I’m the only family Russell had left. I need to do some kind of burial for him or something. I don’t know.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling exhausted from thinking about it. This was completely out of my scope of experience, and it wasn’t something I was looking forward to at all.

“You’re a good person, Jackson.” Mom’s voice was soft. “And you don’t have to handle that alone. Dad and I will pack bags and drive up tonight. We’ll help with the arrangements and stand with you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, my voice feeling thick.

“I’ll put together some sort of meal afterward,” she said. “Just tell me how many people you think you might want to have there. Greg and the rest, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a breath, knowing Greg would be there for my sake—not Russell’s. Truth was, I was probably the only one who would actually be there as any sort of griever. But I’d have people there to support me, and that meant something. “And Allison.”

“Allison?” Mom’s tone perked up. “Are we talking about Allison Bell?”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning at the change in Mom’s mood. “I’m surprised you remember her name.”

“How could I forget the girl my son talked about nonstop as a kid?” She sounded amused. “I didn’t know you guys were back in touch.”

“She moved back a few weeks ago,” I explained, feeling sudden guilt for not mentioning it to Mom sooner. I hadn’t thought of myself as being deliberately evasive, but I hadn’t really wanted to answer any questions.

“That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her.” Mom’s voice was full of warmth. “What does she do?”

“She’s a doctor now. Just took over Doc Rogers’s old practice.”

“That’s great! Tell me everything.”

So I did. Somehow, Mom knew exactly what I needed. I couldn’t have Allison, but talking about her to someone who was interested turned out to be the next best thing. By the time we hung up the phone so Mom could pack up to drive in, I was feeling about a thousand times lighter than I had before.

Allison didn’t text that morning, and I didn’t reach out, either. I missed her more than I wanted to admit to myself, but some space was good. No matter how in love with her I was, nothing had changed. Not really. I was Russell Sharp’s son, and I wasn’t going to risk bringing that kind of darkness into Allison’s world. She deserved better than that.

But I’ll admit, when I walked into the coffee shop that afternoon and saw Allison sitting at a table with another man, I wanted to throw all my good intentions out the window.

She was listening intently as the man talked, so engrossed in what he was saying that she didn’t even notice me walk in. I ground my teeth and walked up to the counter to order, trying to keep my eyes from wandering over to her table.

I was unsuccessful.

When I got my drink, I decided to say hi. That was what a friend would do, right? Of course it was. It had nothing to do with my inner caveman wanting to go over and stake my claim.

I put on my official Rosemary Mountain grin, the one that let people know I worked for them and was on their side. Then I walked over to their table with practiced nonchalance.

“Hey, Allison,” I said when she looked up.

Relief flashed on her face. “Jackson! Hi! I’ve been wanting to check on you today. How are you?”

“I’m good,” I said. “How about you? Who’s your friend?”

The words almost came out with the casual tone I was going for.

This time, her eyes revealed irritation. “Jackson, meet Mike. Mike, this is my old friend Jackson.”

Old friend. It was true. In fact, it’s what I had insisted I wanted. But after that kiss last night, being referred to as an old friend felt like salt poured in a fresh cut.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, sticking out my hand. I felt a sense of satisfaction when he shook mine with a noticeably less firm grip than my own.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said, though his eyes told a different story. I could read it all over his face. He was irritated as hell that I had interrupted whatever speech he was giving Allison.

But it was even more clear that she was grateful for it, and I was on her side, no matter what.

“Allison,” I said, turning toward her, “my parents are driving in tonight. We’re going to arrange a private burial for Russell, followed by a meal. Mom’s pushing for Tuesday, and if anyone can get the arrangements together that quickly, it’s her. It’d mean a lot if you came.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”

Mike frowned. “On a Tuesday? This short of notice? Won’t you have patients?”

She gave him an annoyed look. “They can be rescheduled.”

His eyebrows shot to the roof. “That seems unprofessional. What kind of clinic is this, anyway?”

Her jaw tightened as she took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep her temper under control. “Why do you care about my professional life, anyway? It’s mine, not yours. And this is none of your business.”

Score .

He frowned and put his hand over hers. “ You are my business.”

She delicately pulled her hand away. Score number two. “I can’t wait to meet your parents,” Allison said, turning back to me and ignoring Mike completely. “Please tell them thanks for the invitation. Shoot me a text with the details.”

“I will,” I promised.

Allison stood up to give me a quick hug before I left, scoring me yet another point. Mike’s ears were practically steaming as he watched. I wasn’t sure if Allison was even aware of the competition happening right under her nose, but if she was, she was making it clear that I was ahead.

But when I said goodbye and headed out the door, high from my win, a stab of guilt hit me. This was not how a friend acted. Mike was clearly a loser who didn’t deserve her, and I felt zero guilt for knocking him down a peg or two. But I had no business competing with her potential boyfriends if I didn’t plan on being one myself.

I was a man who lived by lines. Boundaries. Clear rules about right and wrong.

But with Allison, all my lines seemed to get swept away, and I found myself constantly losing perspective. Just another reason I needed to get some space. She brought out a side in me that reminded me entirely too much of Russell. He had been a man who lived in a world that was shaded with gray, only concerned with what he could get away with. Right and wrong didn’t matter to him. Winning did.

Allison brought that out in me, just like Russell always said she would. No matter how much I loved her, I needed to stay away.