Page 56 of Burned & Bound
Both sets of keys are yours. You have the only copy.
-Jackson
What the hell did that mean? I toyed with the keys, wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do with them. The idea of going back to either of those places made my anxiety spike. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. I had to look because he’d gone ahead and done something.
I swept up the keys and forced myself down the hall. The bathroom was first, but my hand faltered on the doorknob.A new doorknob.I ran my thumb over it. Why was there a new doorknob on the bathroom door? I pushed it open, and the smell of paint was an overwhelming blast to the face making me flip on the light.
The yellow was gone.
In its place were deep grey walls, a black shower curtain, and matching accessories placed around the bathroom. Even the garbage can was black.
My chest tightened painfully.Jackson had taken away all the yellow.And he put in a new lock that only I had the keys to.
Why?
With my heart doing something wildly uncomfortable in my chest, I made my way down the hall to the guest bedroom.Grey walls, black bedding, and an old framed painting of horses hanging on the wall.It was a completely different room.
He’d gotten rid of all the yellow. That singular thought stuttered around my brain, breaking off little pieces of me in a way I couldn’t describe. No one had ever done anything like this for me.
I sank down to the bed, unsure of what to do about everything he’d done.And why?It made no sense.
CHAPTER 40
jackson
Aloud bang startledme out of my sleep, and I sat upright, bleary-eyed and disoriented.What the fuck?Was someone trying to break in? Tess, on the other hand, couldn’t be fucking bothered as she snored away at the foot of my bed.
“Some fucking guard dog,” I grumped to the girl who wouldn’t hear me anyway. Tossing off the blanket, I grabbed a shirt off the dresser and struggled into it as I stormed down the hall to the stairs. Whatever the fuck was going on, it had to fucking stop. I needed sleep.I wanted my fucking sleep.
Any fight I had disappeared when I rounded into the kitchen and saw West furiously scrubbing a pot. Every fucking pan I owned lined the counters along with all my mugs and glasses, piled on dish towels and bath towels after being scrubbed clean. Except I knew they hadn’t been used. Not a single one of them.
Which meant that West had cleaned out my cabinets to clean everything.Anxiously clean them.
Fuck.
I ran a hand through my hair as I watched him spiral. His entire body was rigid, tension wracking his muscles.What the hell had incited this?Was this because I painted and redid everything for him?
Whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t leave him like this.
“I’m turning off the water, West,” I announced as I came up behind him, careful not to scare the hell out of him and get my ass kicked.
“I’m fine,” West snapped, his voice cracking.
“I know. I’m going to take the sponge now, West.” My hand covered his. It took a moment but he relented, letting me set it down in the sink. “We’re going to go sit down in the living room now.”
“I’m fine,” he reiterated. The rising tension in his voice suggested otherwise, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. If he needed to feel like he was, then I’d let him.
“I know,” I repeated. And then I warned, “Hands on the shoulders, West.”
I gave him a chance for the words to register before I took him by the shoulders. I felt him flinch, but he didn’t pull away.
“I need to clean all that shit up,” West said while I guided him from the room.
“Yeah, and you will,” I told him. He stalled for a second, and I ushered him to the couch. “But it’s one in the morning. I’m tired and you’re tired, so we’re going to sit in the living room for a while.”
“But—”
“Just for a little while,” I interrupted. “We’ll clean everything up later, okay?”