Protect My Heart

Chapter 30

Suggested song: "Always" by Gavin James

Clover

"It was Jackson's."

I could've collapsed from the lack of oxygen. As I wheezed for breath on the bed, I gasped out the four words to my dearest friend: "I need to go."

Mysterious calls from an unknown number, him saying he had no choice about leaving, his confessions about protection, the terrified side of him, him taking trips to our old hometown - all obvious signs as to who was behind this.

He was forced. He was forced to leave by Jackson.

It was right in front of me: that name, that fucking name.

The door smacked against the wall. His head lifted from where he was sitting. "Please, tell me it's not Jackson. Please tell me it's not him."

Colour drained from his handsome face as he sputtered out: "W-What?"

I dreamed of it being anything other than related to Jackson. I didn't want him to be the reason why Logan had left, why everything had gone wrong in our life. He was the wreak of havoc.

"Tell me it's not him. Tell me it's not."

"I–I... I need to go."

I gripped his arm before he could walk away. Again. No way was I allowing it this time. "No. You're not going anywhere. Tell me the truth."

He looked down at his arm, fear trickling down his face. "Clover, let go."

No. I wouldn't lose him again. Tonight was all about answers.

"I let you walk away years ago; I'm not doing this again. So, sit down and explain what the hell is going on." When he ripped himself out of my grip, I ran the door and blocked his way. We had to talk, and he had to listen. I twisted the key in the hole, then stuffed it in my pants pocket.

"You think I won't palm your ass and fish it out?" he said, his hand by my head on the door. He was trying to intimidate me, to have me let him go. "How about you turn around and I'll spank it red?"

My focus drifted from him to the nightstand drawer, knowing all too well what was hidden there. He saw my decision and then he was chasing me around the room, pulling on the belt loops of my jeans. I toppled on the bed, fighting my way to the drawer while he dragged me back, fishing through my pockets for the key.

I'd shoved it down my pants when he began chasing me, so it would take him a while.

Finally, my fingers grabbed the handcuffs, and then I twisted us around with every bit of strength I could muster. As fast as possible, I yanked his arms above his head, then clipped them to the bedposts. The realization struck him at the clink, and then he fought with them, wearing himself out in the process.

Oh, look at how the roles have reversed. A few months ago, you had me tied up and wore me out.

"Clover, I swear to God, if you don't let me go right now, then I –"

I rolled my eyes, putting a finger to his lips. "If you don't start talking now, I'll bare your ass and make it red. Payback's a bitch. So tell me the truth. Did you leave because of Jackson? Did he do something?"

"Where are you getting that idea from even?"

"Mason and I went to your old house, to the basement. Long story short: we found some blood; Mason tested it and the result belonged to you. Then Mason and his buddy went there while you were at the hospital with me. He searched the place, found some DNA, and tested it. It belongs to Jackson."