“I did,” she said, pulling off her gloves and flopping into a chair in front of his desk. “I saw everyone—they wanted to know when I would be back.”
“What did you say?”
Raven laughed. “There was nothing I could say. Back where? Back on the streets? Back to Club Nova? Back to a homeless shelter? I said you gave me three months to figure things out, and I plan to. I plan to use those three months, not waste a minute. I can’t go back there. I want a different life, and I won’t waste the time you’ve given me, or the money you’ve spent on me. Nothing you give me will ever be taken for granted. Nothing.”
Jax could have taken her words for a goodbye, but he didn’t. Instead, he took them as a promise.
“Let’s go out,” he said, shutting his laptop. He wanted to celebrate.
Raven narrowed her eyes. “Your idea of fun, and my idea of fun, differ greatly,” she said, making him laugh.
“Yes, but I think you’ll enjoy this.”
Jax hadn’t been ice skating since he was a child. As he drove them into the city, he tried to keep from grinning. Doing something that wasn’t sitting at a stuffy dinner party or making excruciating small talk at a charity ball was a new departure for him, and it made him realize just how much he’d cut himself off from the world.
“Where are we going?” she asked for the third time.
He hadn’t told her his plans, only requested she dress warmly as the March evening still had the ability to freeze from the outside in.
But the city’s lights glittered in the frozen air, and for once in his life, Jax appreciated the beauty of the city he called home.
“What did you do today, then?” he asked. He wanted the information as much as he wanted to take her mind off his surprise.
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“Nope.”
Raven lifted a hand to his cheek, the glove warmed by her body heat. “You look happy.”
Jax swerved around a slow-moving vehicle. “I am.”
“I’m glad.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Your day?” he prompted. He wasn’t asking to check up on her. Technically, it wasn’t his business what she did. She had every right to have laid in a sweaty heap of sweat and sex with Axel—Jax only prayed to God she hadn’t.
He may have confessed his feelings about Raven to Erik, but he was a long way off from saying anything to her. They were on shaky ground at best, and he had no idea how she felt about him. She could be interested only in her education and viewed spending time with him as part of a necessary evil to obtain her objective.
But after the night before, he didn’t think so.
Patience had never been his strong suit, but he’d need to take it slow. They hadn’t exactly met in a conventional manner.
His courtships with Gwen and Lucia had been rushed affairs. He didn’t want them to discover what kind of a man he really was. They had, anyway.
No, he looked forward to dating Raven, getting to know her as a person and not just a woman he’d marry for the sake of being married.
Raven bit her lip. “I’m worried about Elle.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s tired of her life there, Jax.”
“Well, it isn’t any wonder . . . Raven.” He’d almost called her sweetheart. “She never leaves her shop. She’s a prisoner in her own salon. No one could be happy living the way she does. Why doesn’t she ever leave?”
“Her husband was beaten to death protecting her store,” Raven said, tucking her hands between her knees. “She’d gone out for the evening. A couple of men saw her go and thought they could rob her register or pillage the back room for stuff to sell. Her husband tried to fend them off. It was a long time ago.”
“Were you on the streets then?” Jax asked, his hands trembling on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, but I hadn’t met her yet. Someone targeting the store again is a very real possibility. Her salon is one of the few real businesses on Z Avenue.”
Jax slowed his Jeep as the traffic thickened as they entered the city.
“What do you think you could do for her? I thought making amends with your parents was important to you.”
Raven sighed. “It is. It’s what I’ve been trying to do since before we met at the church. But I can’t leave my friends behind. I’ve lived on the streets for too long to just walk away. Elle helped me when there was no one else around. I owe her. I’ll be able to get my GED soon. My tutors say I’m on the right track. If I could do that, if I could figure out a job . . . Elle is a good hairstylist. She could open a real business if she could move. Z Avenue is one step away from hell.”
They idled at a stoplight. Worry strained her face, her eyes shadowed with fear.
“What about your parents?”
Raven twisted in her seat, looked at Jax directly. “I want to talk to them, hope they let me move back home, if I can prove to them I’m stable enough. Then I could save money. I want to go to college, but Elle won’t last that long. I need to help her first.”
Jax opened his mouth to say he’d pay her way through school, but Raven shook her head.
A car honked; the light had turned green.
“I know you said you’d help me, and I appreciate it. But you gave me three months, not four years. I don’t intend to take up any more of your time than that. You’ve already been very generous.”
Jax swallowed painfully. No talk of maybe hanging around. No talk of even staying friends. He couldn’t blame her—he hadn’t given her any indication he wanted to stay in contact with her. “When you leave you’ll . . .”
“Talk to my parents, but I need to help Elle as soon as I’m capable. She’s my family, too.”
Jax didn’t bring up the future while they skated. They both wobbled on the ice, falling into each other, and Jax was relieved to see some of the sadness fade from her face.
It worried him she felt so attached to her old life on Z Avenue.
It worried him she’d choose her parents over him.
He just needed to make her see she didn’t have to choose, that she had a big enough heart for everyone.
And so did he.
He drove home, stiff, sore, cold, but laughing, the taste of hot chocolate lingering in his mouth.
She sat with his hand tucked into her lap. “Thank you for tonight. It was a good day.”
“Thank you for coming with me. I enjoy spending time with you, Raven.” He wanted to tell her more, but stopped. She already had so much on her mind.
“I like it, too. I spilled about my day,” she said, “but you spoke to Erik this morning, didn’t you?”
Jax pulled into his driveway and parked his Jeep in the garage. He turned off the engine, and for a moment, they sat in silence.
“You were right about everything,” he said. They only had a minute or two before the interior of the truck cooled to the point they would be uncomfortable and need to go inside.
“You didn’t fight, did you?”
“No. Erik and I never fight. But I did fire him.”
Raven sucked in a breath. “Jax, that wasn’t—”
“I know, but he hated working for me. I did him a favor. And he wasn’t offended. Stunned. Concerned I’d lost my mind, but generally happy I seemed to be moving forward. He won’t be watching over me anymore. Well, maybe a little. I guess by now looking out for me is as natural as breathing, but I want him to start living. He’s too old to play babysitter. Come on, let’s go in.”
He held her hand from the garage to the side-door of the house. He tried to think of a subtle way to ask, but there was none.
“Will you spend the night with me, Raven?”
She stood on a step, making herself eye-level with him.
He loved looking at her. The scratch on her cheek was barely perceptible in the hazy moonlight; her delicate breath turning white in the frigid temperatures.
“Yes. You can kiss the bruises I’m sure I have all over my bum
because someone didn’t catch me the two thousand times I fell,” she said, laughing.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, scooping her up into his arms, breathing her in as he carried her up the stairs.
They made love in front of his fireplace. He memorized every inch of her skin, every flicker of desire in her eyes.
He didn’t need to be told to be gentle. He didn’t need to be told to go slowly. Jax loved her, and while he didn’t say it, he tried like hell to show her.
Chapter 10
It was more important than ever she get on the right track. Visiting Elle on Z Avenue reminded Raven that more was at stake than just her relationship with her parents.
Jax had access to some of the city’s best therapists, and while she had been seeing one regularly, one Jax paid handsomely to make house calls three times a week, Raven didn’t put as much energy into the sessions as she did when her tutors came to call.
The next day, she met Dr. Wheland with an adjusted attitude and a new determination. She wandered the library as he organized his notes on the coffee table in front of the loveseat he liked to sit on during their sessions.
“Is there anything specific you’d like to talk about today?” he asked, opening his notebook.
He always began the conversation the same way, allowing her the floor.
Most times she brushed him off, and he’d skim his notes, going over what they’d talked of previously.
For the amount of time she’d spent with Dr. Wheland, they hadn’t covered much ground.
Not that she didn’t want the help. She appreciated these visits and was grateful for the money Jax spent for the best.
But Levi’s death was a painful topic, and she hadn’t been brave enough to talk about it.
She was still that scared fifteen-year-old girl.
The look in Elle’s eyes, the pain and utter hopelessness she’d displayed, made Raven see that it was time to admit her role in her brother’s death.
“I’m ready to talk about Levi.”
Dr. Wheland raised his eyebrows, his pen paused on the paper. He took a sip of coffee and carefully set the mug on a coaster before replying.
“Can you tell me why?”
Raven perched on the leather chair near Dr. Wheland’s loveseat. “I visited Z Avenue a few days ago. I saw Elle.” Bouncing a knee in agitation, she said, “She’s not doing so well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But what does that have to do with opening up to me?”
Raven liked Dr. Wheland. His brown hair threaded with gray, his dress shirts and sweater vests reminded her a little of her father. The easy way he had about him that said, “Come, sit. Let’s chat.”
“I realized I need to get going with this. Start moving. Elle needs my help. Jax only gave me three months to figure this stuff out. I need to take advantage while he’s paying.” She tried to smile, make it a joke.
“Raven, you can see me anytime, talk to me anytime. No payment required. But let’s get back to Elle. What’s happening there? What makes you worry about her so much now?”
Raven bit back a groan of frustration; she had to be patient with his line of questioning.
“She’s tired of life on Z Avenue, Dr. Wheland. She needs my help, but I don’t have anything to give her now. I need to talk about Levi, then maybe I have a better chance of talking to my parents, sooner, rather than later.”
Dr. Wheland propped an ankle on his knee, revealing argyle socks and the brown loafers he favored. “Raven, I don’t think this is about Elle. I don’t think it’s about Levi. Isn’t this about Jax?”
Raven’s cheeks flared with heat. “What do you mean?”
Flipping through his notes Dr. Wheland said, “When we talk, we always talk about Jax. How he treated you before, how he’s only helping you for your signature now. How he’s given you three months to get back on your feet.” He tapped a pen on his notebook.
Raven smoothed the skirt of her black dress. “Yes.”
“Take me back, Raven. When did your feelings for him change? When we first started speaking, you hated him. The power he had over you. The control.”
She stared at the carpet, her black pumps making indentations in the freshly vacuumed fibers. She had hated him. No. That wasn’t true.
She’d feared him.
“Then later you ran away after Lucia attacked you. Were you . . . surprised he came for you?”
“Yes.” Yes, she’d been shocked when he’d shown up at Club Nova. The thought of him kissing her when she’d fallen into his lap made her tingle.
The gentle way he’d cleaned the cut on her neck still brought tears to her eyes.
“Let’s do a little word association, shall we?”
The exercise caught Raven off guard, but she agreed. Dr. Wheland loved to change tacks to keep her thoughts and answers honest. It used to put her on edge, these games, but more than once he’d pried out a kernel of truth or a feeling she wouldn’t have known had even existed.
She made herself relax and repeated to herself what he always told her: There were no wrong answers.
“Let’s begin,” he said. “Z Avenue.”
“Friends.”
“Your parents.”
“Guilt.”
“Mariah.”
“Food.”
“Books.”
“Learning.”
“This library.”
“Comfort.”
“March.”
“Snow.”
“College.”
“Money.”
“Jaxon Brooks.”
“Leaving.”
After the word popped out of her mouth, silence hung in the air.
Dr. Wheland made a few scribbles.
“You associate Jax with leaving. Are you afraid he’s going to leave you, Raven?”
Raven was surprised to find tears dripping down her cheeks. She wiped them away with a tissue she pulled from the box sitting on the coffee table.
Before she could reply, he said, “Talk to me about that night.”
Raven took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tilted her face to the ceiling. “I was at a friend’s house. At fifteen, I was allowed to come and go as I pleased, but I was running late. We were working on a project for the end of the school year and lost track of time. I knew I was going to be in trouble, and I took a shortcut through the park.”
“The one along Cherry Blossom Boulevard.”
“Yes. My mother said never go through there at night, but I did. Just this once. It took off close to ten minutes.”
Raven balled the hem of her dress in her hands. The night seemed so real. The chirp of crickets, her backpack heavy with books against her back. The cool breeze in her face. The stars twinkling overhead.
“I saw him across the park. Levi. He’d taken the same shortcut. Mom and Dad told him to go find me. He never would have been there if I hadn’t been late.”
“Then what happened?”
“I heard two cops. They were all, ‘Stop! Show us your hands!’ One even drew his gun. Like my brother looked like a criminal,” she said bitterly. “He stopped. He’d only been walking through the park, minding his own business. He had no reason to run.”
“What were you doing at that point?”
“I was a ways away. I’m not good with distances, so I couldn’t tell you how far, but I stepped behind a tree when I heard them yell. One had an edge to his voice I didn’t like. After they got out of Levi’s face, I planned on doubling back. I didn’t want Levi to go all the way to my friend’s house for nothing.”
“Reasonable.”
Dr. Wheland’s voice didn’t make her react. She was too pulled under, caught in the moment of that evening.
“I could tell by Levi’s body language he was relaxed, easy-going. We were brought up in a middle-class family in a decent part of town. We were taught in school to find an officer if we needed help. There was no reason for us to fear cops, you know? He took a step forward, reached into his
pocket.” She met Dr. Wheland’s eyes. “At the end of the investigation, they came to the conclusion he was reaching for a pack of cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jean jacket.”
“How could you see Levi?”
“He stood in the square, under an overhead light. The cops stood just out of the circle—I could see two figures, but that was all. It was past midnight, and their blue uniforms made them blend into the darkness.”
Agitated, Raven stood, her fingers clasped together, her knuckles white. Sweat pooled under her arms and dripped down her sides.
“A shot blasted. I’d never heard a gun fired before. After that, it was like slow motion. Levi fell. There was a clatter—the cop dropped his gun. He was a good shot. The autopsy said Levi was dead before he reached the ground. I don’t remember screaming, but by the time I made it home, my throat . . . I could barely speak.”
Dr. Wheland stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. Raven tried to focus, tried to concentrate on the heat of his hand on her skin.
He led her to her chair and pushed her down until she sat. She was grateful for the support under her shaking legs.
She hadn’t told the story to anyone for many years. Her heart slammed, and her blood rushed in her ears with the memory of it.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Drained, she sagged against the cushion. She wished she could go upstairs and lie down, but being it a typical weekday, she’d have tutoring, and a cooking lesson with Mariah.
“Am I better now?” she tried to joke.
Dr. Wheland smiled. “Therapy doesn’t work that way.” He sat in his place on the loveseat, bracing his elbows on his knees, his hands folded as if he were about to pray. “But guilt does. You’ve made yourself pay for Levi’s death by denying yourself a home. Living on the streets is hard—it’s your penance. But I don’t think this is anything you haven’t thought of before.”
“No.”
“Do you think after the next three months are over, and you leave to start your new life with your family, Jax will come for you?”
The change of direction in the conversation confused her for a moment, the meaning of his question fighting through the fog of mental fatigue.
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