Dirty, Reckless Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #3)

“He didn’t.”

“I almost didn’t come by.” When he opens his eyes to meet mine, I don’t understand the torment there. “I stopped at Andy’s. If Andy’d been home, I’d be high on his couch right now, stoned out of my mind, and you’d be—”

“Stop.” I shake my head. Colton and I don’t discuss his drug problem. We dance around it. We talk about his drinking or his “partying.” Somehow, speaking the truth makes his problem real. There’s a comfort in denial I never would have imagined before falling in love with Colton. “You were here.”

He studies my face and takes my hand. His is shaking. “I’ve never cared if I was worthy of anybody. But I want to be worthy of you. I want to be worthy, but I’m no better than him.”

“You are. You have problems, but you’re a good man.”

He searches my eyes. “I’m not good, Ellie. Not at all. But you make me want to be.” He swallows. “I don’t want to be that loser who lets drugs become his whole world. But I feel it happening. I thought I was stronger, but lately . . .” He grits his teeth. “It’s like they have me by the throat. I can’t say no. All I care about is the next high. I swore I’d never be that guy. You deserve someone better.”

“Maybe I don’t want someone better. I love you, Colton. Let me help you. I have a friend who works at a really good rehab center.”

He drops his hand and closes his eyes. I can see on his face how hard this is for him. He’s proud, and rehab means admitting he’s lost control. “I almost didn’t come over tonight.” He swallows. “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if he hurt you.”

I crawl into his lap, straddling his hips and taking his face in my hands. “We’ll fight this together.”

When he opens his eyes, they’re full of tears. He threads his fingers through my hair and kisses me hard. “Don’t leave me. Don’t give up on me yet.”





Ellie


Thursday, October 25th



In the two days since Detective Huxley visited, my memories have been coming back bit by bit, but instead of bringing me peace, they’re making me homesick. Despite the ugly memories of Nelson McKinley and the heartache of remembering Colton fight his addiction, I miss Jackson Harbor. I miss girls’ nights with Ava, Nic, Shay, and Teagan. I miss weekends at the Jackson family cabin, and lazy Sunday mornings in bed with Colton while consuming irresponsible quantities of coffee.

I miss Colton.

Our relationship was complicated from the start. I fell in love with a man who was in love with drugs, enamored by risks, and wrapped up in a world more dangerous than any Tate ever dragged me into. But Colton was like me. He wanted out. He wanted a better, more honest life. He wanted to get sober, and he asked me to help.

The man from those memories was easy to love and impossible to walk away from. And I know, without any question in my mind, he’d have never lifted a finger against me. When I think of him now, I think of a man I love, arguments that may never be resolved, and heartache that is more complicated than the letter of the law.

I think of what Levi said about Colton being at the bottom of Lake Michigan, and I grieve for the man I was supposed to marry, the one my mother believes nearly beat me to death. Instead of being afraid of him, I’m wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to see his face again.

That’s the part that hurts the worst. I’m grieving for the man I loved, and everyone around me still believes that man tried to kill me. But if that night wasn’t a result of some violent act of passion, what was it? Who wanted me dead?

I close the laptop and walk away from my desk. I want to text Ava and ask how she’s holding up. Her brother and father are missing, and her wedding is this weekend. I should be there.

But when I grab my phone, I see I missed a message. It’s from Tate Andrews, my old boss.

Frowning, I click on it.



Tate: Lots of chatter about the Discovery collection being in circulation again. I’m interested to get more details. I thought you might be too.



I quickly delete the message. This isn’t good news, and I can’t ignore this feeling in my gut that says it’s somehow connected to what happened to me. Colton helped me dodge a bullet when he stole those paintings. I knew what I’d done and didn’t want Nelson to close that deal. The theft saved me from falling deeper into the seedy part of Nelson’s world. It saved me from falling deeper under his control.

If my injuries weren’t the result of a domestic dispute with Colton, I can’t help but wonder if someone was trying to kill me to get to those paintings. Or worse, because they didn’t want me around to admit they’re forgeries. If the latter is true, they probably still want me dead.

I can hear my niece playing in the tub down the hall, the water splashing as she sings Disney songs. I know what I need to do.

I don’t reply to Tate. I haven’t talked to him in years, and I’m not interested in changing that until I’m sure it’s necessary. Instead, I pack a bag.

“Where are you going?” Mom asks when I go downstairs to say goodbye.

“Some of the girls from Loyola invited me to Chicago for the weekend.” I feel guilty about the lie, but I’d feel worse knowing she was worried about me. “It was a last-minute thing, and I thought it might be nice to get out of the house for a few days.”

She beams. She’s wanted me to spend more time with friends—friends I didn’t know in Jackson Harbor, at least. I knew this would make her happy. “You have somewhere to stay?”

I nod. “I have a few options.”

She hugs me. “Don’t drink too much, okay?”

“I won’t, Mom.” I’m twenty-six years old, but my mom has been treating me like a vulnerable teenager. I can’t blame her, but now I need to stop letting her protect me.

Now I need to protect my family.





Levi


“Holy shit. She’s back.”

I look up from my beer and follow Molly’s gaze to the front of Jackson Brews. Ellie. Walking into my family’s bar—home of her girls’ nights, home of countless jokes and laughs with friends, home. I’ve dreamed it. I’ve willed it. And she stayed away, but now she’s here.

I’m not sure I’m breathing. I’m not sure I’m even awake or if I’m in my bed sound asleep.

“We should call Ava. She’d want to see her,” I say, trying to take the focus off what I know Molly is thinking—how fucking thrilled I am to see her here.

Molly studies me. “Ava will have her turn.”

Ellie wanders to the bar and stands there, looking around the place with big, wide eyes. Is she trying to remember? Does being here trigger any memories for her? I want her to remember everything. And then I want her to explain.

“Are you going to go get her or not?” Molly asks. “Hell, if you don’t, I’ll do it for you.”

I put my hand on her arm, stopping her as she scoots out of the booth. “Don’t.”

She winces. “Right. Because I’m still the bad guy.”

I grimace. “Nobody thinks that.”

She stares into her beer, and her blue eyes fill with tears. “It’s fine.”

“Molly . . .”

She shakes her head, and when she looks up at me, I see the anguish she’s been carrying around for weeks. Months. “This is all my fault. I never should have come back here.” She closes her eyes, and tears slip out. “I never should have told Colton the truth.”

“What choice did you have?” I ask softly. “Were you planning to stay away forever?”

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