Jax (The Protectors Series) Book #8

by Teresa Gabelman

  "It will get done," Blaze reassured her. "I should get back to working on this roof."

  "You've done enough." Caroline lifted her chin to look at Blaze. "Why don't you let me make you something to eat? There's some leftover lunch meat. I can make you a sandwich."

  "No, I'm good." Blaze frowned and then looked over his shoulder to the ground below. "Why do you keep looking that way?"

  Caroline shifted, her eyes rising to meet his, wondering if she should tell him. "I was just… ah…."

  "How many are there?" His frown turned into a scowl.

  "I'm sorry, Blaze." Caroline shook her head. "Sometimes it distracts me. We don't have to talk about it."

  "How many?" he demanded.

  "Six." She looked away from him briefly to the five dead men and one woman, who stood staring up at them. "Who are they?"

  "You tell me?" Blaze shifted uncomfortably, looking over his shoulder, then back at her. "I see no one."

  "I wish I could, but they haven't made contact with me. Actually, they don't seem to realize I can see them, or they just don't care." Caroline was dying to know who the people were. Five of them were badly burned, but the female had no burn scars that she could see. "And I won't make contact with them without your permission. I respect your privacy."

  Blaze seemed to want to say more, but didn't, which made Caroline want to curse. She wasn't nosey by nature, but when she had dead people hanging around, it was primed in her to want to know who they were and what they wanted. And honestly, she was intrigued by Blaze and his unusual talent.

  "Can you tell them to go the hell away?" Blaze grabbed a hammer, flipping it in his hand.

  "I can tell them anything you want me to tell them, but that doesn't mean they'll listen." Caroline shrugged. "The dead do what they want."

  "Doesn't that creep you out?" Blaze eyed her as he expertly caught the hammer he was tossing, but stopped, waiting for her answer.

  "What? The dead?" Caroline laughed. "No, not really. There's evil in this world that creeps me out much more than they do. I'm used to it. Been seeing them since I was a little girl."

  "That had to have been hard." Blaze once again glanced over his shoulder.

  "It was until I found out that my sister could do the same thing." Caroline added, "We hid it from everyone, and each other, because we were afraid to say anything."

  "Can they harm you?" Blaze again frowned at the thought.

  Caroline shivered, thinking of not too long ago when she was pretty much held hostage after trying to read someone. "Physically, no, or at least not that I know of. They never have to this point." She stood carefully. "Mentally, yes, they can."

  Blaze also stood, making sure she made it to the ladder safely. Helping her turn and holding her steady as she positioned herself on the ladder, Blaze was ready just in case she fell. "You need to not go up and down this ladder without someone here."

  "Yes, sir." Caroline grinned up at him. "Now, I'm going to make you something to eat, so clean up or whatever, because it's getting dark and you've done enough."

  "Yes, ma'am," Blaze mocked and actually gave her a full-on smile. She about fell off the damn ladder. Blaze was a handsome man, hands down, but when he smiled, he was breathtaking.

  Knowing she was staring like an idiot, Caroline started down the ladder with a sad smile. Why did these Warriors all have to be so damn good-looking? It was so unfair.

  "He'll be back," Blaze said from the roof, staring down at her.

  Caroline stumbled at his words, but didn't say anything. Instead, she gave him a hesitant shrug as she made her way into the house, hoping with everything Blaze was right.

  ******

  Singing quietly with the radio, Caroline got the lunch meat out, along with bread, mayo, mustard, and chips. She didn't know what Blaze liked so she just set it all out on the table. Grabbing a beer, she opened it and took a long drink. She was a wine drinker, but didn't have any so a beer would have to do.

  Walking out onto the porch, she stood at the edge of the steps. It was now completely dark and she didn't hear Blaze moving around on the roof.

  "Blaze?" she called out, looking up toward the roof. "Sandwich stuff is out."

  "I sent him home." Jax's voice came from the darkness behind her.

  Caroline jumped, almost losing her beer in the process. She squinted, trying to see him, but eerily, he blended into the darkness of her porch. "Why didn't you come in?" Caroline took a step closer, but stopped. "Why are you out here in the dark?"

  He walked close enough she could finally see him.

  "What happened, Jax?" She stared up at his bruised face—which looked like old bruising since he was already starting to heal—and swollen eye. Dried blood matted his hair. Her eyes moved down his body. He wore his leather jacket without a shirt. "Where's your shirt?" Not that she cared, because without a shirt while wearing that leather jacket, he was sexy as hell. She could stand there all night counting the muscles in his stomach.

  "I gave it to Sid to stop the bleeding," Jax replied without further explanation.

  "Stop whose blood?" Caroline gasped.

  "Sid's," Jax replied evenly. "Slade needed it to stop the bleeding from the knife."

  "Sid was stabbed? Oh, my God!" Caroline set her beer on the railing. "Is he okay? What happened? Who stabbed him?"

  "He's fine," Jax replied, a frown forming across his lips. "And I stabbed him. Actually, I threw the knife that pierced him in the shoulder to the handle."

  That took her aback for a second. Yet as she thought about it, Jax had to have a perfectly good reason for doing something like that. He didn't usually go on rampages stabbing his fellow Warriors, did he? No, of course not, she answered herself. "What did Sid do?"

  Jax just stared at her, his eyes opened wide. "What did Sid do?" Jax laughed, but without humor. "I just told you I stabbed a fellow Warrior and all you can ask is 'what did Sid do?'"

  "I think I know you well enough to know you wouldn't stab someone without good reason and Sid can,"—Caroline flipped her hand up in the air—"you know, piss people off. He just goes on and on and on…."

  "Unbelievable." Jax shook his head, then rubbed his hand down his face.

  Caroline's body started to heat. Her face burned and tingled, indicating she was getting pissed. She was even ready to apologize for calling him a coward, but as far as she was concerned, the way he was acting, he could forget an apology. The jerk.

  "You know, if you just came to pick a fight, then you can just turn your ass around and leave." Caroline slammed her hand on her cocked hip.

  "I'm bad news, Caroline." Jax's voice rose with each word. "Dammit! What in the hell will it take to prove that to you?"

  For a split second, Caroline could have sworn she saw vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide. "No, Jax." Caroline shook her head. "Your brother is bad news, not you. What will it take for me to prove that to you?" She went to touch him, but he stepped away. The action made her heart ache and her jaw clench.

  "You can't prove anything to me," Jax answered, not looking at her. "I know exactly who and what I am. You deserve better than what I can give you."

  "Will you just please shut the hell up?" Caroline put her hands on her ears and stomped her foot in what she knew looked like a tantrum. She took her hands from her ears and smacked him on his bare chest. "Damn you and your brother. Damn you and your… your tattoos. Damn you and your stupid guitar that you never taught me how to play, and damn you for making me care."

  Jax just stared down at her with a look of stupid shock on his face as he absorbed each hard smack she delivered to his bare chest every time she said, "'damn you."'

  Tears blurred her vision as she looked up at him. Removing her hand, she held it to her chest. "And damn you for coming back." She choked on a sob before turning around, slamming the door behind her, and then locking it.

  Chapter 10

  Jax stood on the porch staring at the door that separated them. At that very moment, he knew w
ithout a doubt he could never let Caroline Fitzpatrick go. He was a selfish fuck because of it, but he couldn't walk away. Hell, how many damn times had he tried and always found himself back, just to be near her? Searching her out, hoping for a glimpse of her? Every single fucking moment of his fucked-up days she was in the back of his mind.

  Grabbing her beer off the railing, he downed the rest. She was right. He was a coward, but not because he was afraid of his brother. That son of a bitch was going to die, and soon. No, he was a coward because he had never had feelings like this for anyone in his long life and it scared the hell out of him.

  He was set in his ways. He could be a bastard and he knew for a fact he was not easy to live with. He had enemies, few friends, and didn't know how to express his feelings. She deserved someone else, and yet, even the thought of another with her threatened to send him in a killing rage. The only reason he hadn't killed Sloan earlier was because he knew Sloan, that tricky bastard, was just trying to get under his skin to make him realize exactly what he would be losing.

  Looking through the window, he watched as Caroline stood in the middle of the room, not moving. She was beautiful and hurt, well, maybe a little pissed, which he couldn't blame her for. He pissed a lot of people off on a daily basis and usually he didn't care, but with her, he did care. Her tears did something to him that nothing had in a long time: they made him feel. She made him feel and he was becoming addicted to it, to her.

  Setting the beer bottle back down, he tried the doorknob. It was locked. "Caroline, let me in." He could see her through the window of the door. "Caroline," he said a little louder, but she remained completely still, her back to him.

  Glancing at the window, he knew he could open it and crawl through, but he shot that idea down. Instead, he used his shoulder and nudged the door hard, but it didn't budge. Okay, well that was a good thing because honestly, he'd thought a strong breeze would blow the damn thing down, but it seemed sturdier than he had first thought.

  "Caroline, open the door," he called out, giving her one last chance to open the door for him.

  "Just go away, Jax." He heard the tears in her voice. He watched as she angrily swiped them away from her face.

  "Shit," he cursed, then leaned further back and used more of his strength to hit the door, which burst open and dropped off its hinges.

  "You broke my door!" Caroline spun with a frown, staring at her broken front door.

  "I'll fix it." He walked up to her. "I wasn't done talking to you."

  "Well, I was done talking to you." Caroline huffed, her face angry. "What else could you possibly have to say, Jax? Or do you just have to go over the list again of why you can't be around me? Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? Because honestly, I get it. You don't want me, so using your brother is the best way to go about it."

  When he attempted to speak, she held her hand up with a "'don't want to hear it"' attitude. "Save it." Caroline stopped him with a proud tilt of her head. "You need to fix my door and then leave."

  Jax grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. Then, using his size and body to his advantage, he walked her backwards, plastering her to the wall and effectively boxing her in so she couldn't move. "I will fix your fucking door and I will leave when I'm damn good and ready, but first, you will hear me out."

  "Why don't you just write it down, or better yet, I'll write it down since I know by heart what you're going to say," she hissed up at him, her face a beautiful shade of angry red.

  "Oh, you think you know what I'm about to say?" Jax growled down at her.

  "Yeah, I do." She narrowed her eyes at him, then lowered her voice, mocking his. "I'm no good for you. I need to stay away from you. You need to stay away from me. Blah, blah, blah."

  A crooked smile tipped the corner of his mouth. "I don't sound like that and you have never heard me say blah, blah, blah."

  She looked away from him, a tear escaping, sliding slowly down her cheek. "Let me go, Jax." Her voice sounded defeated.

  "If only I could." Jax's voice deepened as he swiped the tear away.

  "I can't keep doing this." Caroline's lip trembled, along with her voice. "I can't keep putting myself out there for you. You either want me or you don't."

  Something inside Jax burned. It was a feeling he had never had and at that moment, he knew this woman meant more to him than his own life.

  "That has never been the issue, Caroline," Jax whispered against her forehead. "The first time I laid eyes on you I wanted you, and that hasn't changed."

  "Then why do you keep doing everything in your power to stay away from me?" Caroline asked, her eyes searching for the truth in his.

  Jax struggled to keep his eyes off her lips, but at that question, he lifted his gaze to hers and he honestly didn't know how to respond.

  "Is it really about your brother?" she probed, trying to get the truth. When he didn't answer, only stared at her, she sighed and tried to duck under his arm, but he stopped her. "Until you talk to me, Jax, this isn't going to work. I don't understand any of this, but I feel that this isn't just about your brother."

  "I'm not one to talk about my feelings to anyone," Jax replied, knowing he sounded as uncomfortable as he felt. "Isn't it enough to know that I want you?"

  Sadness flashed across her face before she bowed her head, hiding her features. "I wish it were, but I really don't know if it is."

  This time, Jax let her go. Still standing with his arm against the wall, he stared blankly at where she had been, cursing himself. She was right. He was a coward.

  ******

  Caroline put the food away as Jax fixed her front door. It was so quiet she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She wished he would just leave so she could do just that. For a split second, she'd thought he was going to open up to her, but just as quickly, he shut down and closed up.

  When he asked her 'if knowing he wanted her was enough,' she wanted to scream 'yes, it was enough,' and yet, she had held her ground. The truth was it wasn't enough. Not for her. Maybe for another woman it would be, but not her. She'd sworn after Rod that if she ever fell in love, it would be with the right man. Her eyes shifted toward Jax, knowing that he was the right man. Deep longing hit her, almost doubling her over. She loved him, that she knew, but the ass couldn't see it or did see it, yet just didn't love her back.

  At least she gave him props for not lying just to get her into bed, because that was definitely where they would have ended up if he had lied. As she cleaned up, she watched him, the way his body moved, and wondered if she was a total idiot for not giving in. He took his jacket off, tossing it on the floor, and she had to bite her lip to stop the moan from escaping. He was a damn fine man. His shoulders were wide, his skin smooth and dark, not to mention the tribal tattoo that painted his back. Her fingers itched to trace each line.

  Rolling her eyes at herself, she slammed the refrigerator door a little harder than necessary. Jax glanced over at her, but she averted her eyes from him. He had to go or she was going to cave. Would that be such a bad thing?

  "Yes, you idiot, it would," she hissed to herself.

  "What?" Jax turned from the door to stare at her.

  She cleared her throat and then shook her head. "Nothing." Her eyes got a load of his shirtless chest, and all she wanted to do was cry. Every single hormone she possessed in her body pinged to attention, making her cringe.

  "Don't you have a shirt or something?" Popped out of her mouth, and the slow grin spreading across his lips pissed her off. The ass knew he affected her. Hell, who was she kidding? Hadn't she told him more than once in the past hour she wanted him?

  "No," he replied, his grin gleaming at her. "Why?"

  Oh, no way was she answering that question. Heading to what was to be her bedroom, she rifled through boxes trying to find a shirt for the ass to wear. New rule: no shirt, no entry. Hey, it was her house and she could have that rule if she wanted.

  Finding a shirt that had actually been Rod's, she grabbed it. It wou
ld be a little small, but it would be better than nothing, plus he didn't need to know it was Rod's. She was surprised she had anything left of Rod's, but it must have been mixed in with her stuff.

  Heading back downstairs, she walked up to Jax holding out the shirt. "Here."

  "What's that?" Jax looked at the shirt in her hand, but didn't take it.

  "A shirt." She kept her eyes above his neck. She was way too close to him and her itchy fingers were getting trigger happy, wanting nothing more than to touch his bare skin.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Whose shirt is that, Caroline?" He still didn't take the shirt as he asked her that loaded question.

  "It's… just a shirt." She'd hesitated, dammit. "You need a shirt, so here's a shirt."

  Jax grabbed the shirt, still looking into her eyes. Ripping it in half with his bare hands, which was pretty impressive, he wadded it up and threw it out the door. The whole time, a muscle ticked in his cheek. Yeah, he was pissed.

  "Didn't like the color?" she asked, trying to defuse the situation by being a smart-ass. Okay, so maybe handing him one of Rod's shirts to wear wasn't her brightest idea, but dammit, she was limited and he definitely wouldn't fit into one of her T-shirts. A half-naked Jax in her home was going to lead to her saying screw it and then screwing him, literally. It wasn't fair, dammit.

  "Didn't like the motherfucker who wore the shirt," he replied, taking a step toward her.

  "It's just a shirt, Jax." Caroline frowned, realizing that was probably a mistake and mean, if she wanted to be honest with herself.

  "You have other shit of his here?" Jax demanded, his tone harsh.

  "No." Was that jealousy she heard? "It must have been mixed in with my stuff when I packed to move."

  "Don't play games with me." Jax loomed over her, the warning clear in his tone.

  Caroline's head snapped back. "Well, that's calling the kettle black, now, isn't it?"

  "What does that even mean?" Jax still loomed, his head tilted as he glared down at her.

  "It means, you're the one playing games… not me." She huffed back at him.

  "I'm not handing you other women's clothes to put on, now, am I?" Jax cocked one eyebrow at her, not giving an inch.