Saving Ella (Mercy's Angels)

by Kirsty Dallas

  “Not many people know about my tattoo. In fact, pretty much no one, especially Mercy. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

  “I didn’t expect Mercy to be the sort who wouldn’t approve of tattoos. You were a soldier I thought it was pretty much mandatory for soldiers to have tattoos.” Jax laughed and the sound helped me to relax a little more.

  “True, but it’s not so much the tattoo itself that I prefer to keep to myself. It’s the content, the meaning.” Jax had demons too and he was good at hiding them.

  “Jax, I am the Queen of secrets. Yours are more than safe with me.” He nodded satisfied and led me through Mercy’s and out a back door.

  Jax drove a big, black, luxurious Dodge Ram. It was the nicest vehicle I had ever been in, much nicer than Marcus’ pussy Beamer M3. The dodge was a working man’s car. A man who was proud of who he was and not interested in slick speed, but more perhaps safety and comfort. Shit, even the seats were warmed. The panic attack that had gripped me less than fifteen minutes ago was all but a distant memory as I sunk into the tan leather seat. I groaned, out loud.

  “Comfortable?” Jax asked grinning.

  “Please tell me The Pit Stop is like hours away,” I moaned. Jax laughed loudly.

  “Sorry angel, only a few minutes.” My eyes slipped closed as I enjoyed the short ride.

  “You know, I’m finding myself more than a little jealous of this car right now. You’ve never had such a contented look on your face with me.” Jax’s smile was sly and knowing and suddenly I had images of him doing things to me that might just put that look of content on my face. I blushed and his grin was shit eating proud, almost as if he knew what I was thinking. We pulled up out front of a tidy little diner that I realize was less than a block from Bouquets. As I reached for the handle the door opened and Jax stood on the icy footpath before me, his hand outstretched. I didn’t hesitate when I took it, feeling completely safe by his side, my hand in his. Jax let go all too soon and I was quietly disappointed. The sunshine that had started the day had disappeared behind a blanket of thick grey cloud. It would snow again tonight. I reached back to grab my backpack and Jax stopped me.

  “It will be safe here, you can leave it in my truck if you like.” I hesitated. I never left my backpack behind. It was always with me, it was all I had.

  “You can bring it in if you like. It doesn’t bother me one way or another. I just thought you might like to leave it here, it looks heavy.” I stood for a moment conflicted. To leave my bag or not leave my bag, that was the question. “You’re thinking too hard Ella. Come on Angel, let’s just eat before I pass out this time, I’m starving.” I could do this, I could leave it there. The truck was right outside the diner. I stepped away from the Dodge and before I could change my mind, Jax slammed the door shut and locked it. “And just so you know, I invited you to lunch, which means my shout. When you invite me out, it can be your shout.” I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so rather than address it, I pretended to ignore it.

  The Pit Stop was warm and cozy, and thankfully not too crowded. We sat at the counter alongside two old men who appeared to be in a deep and meaningful conversation with the man behind the counter, something about the cost of meat and export tax.

  “Jax!” The man behind the counter bellowed. His loud voice made me wince, but I knew it wasn’t spoken in anger, but shouting kind of made me nervous. He was huge and round with a thick tangled beard and warm friendly eyes that were watching me curiously.

  “Benny.” Jax said, his voice much more calm and soothing. “This is Ella, Ella this is Benny. This is his fine establishment and he is the genius behind the all-day breakfast.” Benny reached out his hand to shake mine. Jax looked concerned for a moment, but I didn’t hesitate to reach out and take Benny’s hand. Although I had always kept my distance from men, even the ones with friendly eyes, having Jax beside me made me feel safe.

  “Pretty Ella,” sighed Benny. “Please tell me I can get you something other than a salad.” I hated salad.

  “No, meat for me thanks. I prefer it soaking in grease with some bread to mop up the mess.” Benny looked at me like he was in love.

  “Thank god, a real woman. Jax, hold on to this one, she is a rare commodity.” I blushed as Benny turned to the kitchen.

  “That she is,” Jax murmured. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it, but I did and my heart pitched dangerously. Coffee with cream and sugar was slid towards us and Jax prepared mine, just the way I liked it, though a dash of caramel wouldn’t go astray. Benny practically ignored us as his argument continued on with the old timers. Jax told me about his best friend Charlie who also worked for him, and went on to tell me about the town, the university that fed the businesses and the shelter. Basically anything that wasn’t too personal. I felt comfortable, happy. I found myself thinking about Claymont in a more permanent way. Could I stay here permanently? I could get my own apartment, maybe sell some of my portraits to help with cash? There was no reason Marcus would find me here, as long as I stayed off the grid. Thinking of my future was a strange concept and frightening. To want something like that and have it taken away from me would be devastating. I knew it was easier not to want, not to plan, but not even a ten foot solid brick wall in my mind could stop the dreams that were beginning to churn away.

  As I moped up the last of the grease off my plate with a slice of bread, I discovered the diner had become quiet. I glanced up to see Jax, Benny and the two old timers watching me, waiting. I grinned. “I think you’ve spoilt me for all future breakfast’s Benny,” I admitted. It was obviously the right response, as Benny beamed with pride.

  “Sorry, that wasn’t exactly lady like,” I groaned with embarrassment, wiping my grease covered fingers on a napkin. I had all but devoured the meal without a pause and finished it by dumping my fork and promptly using Jax’s last piece of toast to mop up every last drop. I might as well have picked up the plate and licked it clean. Hell, I still might. Jax chuckled.

  “Screw lady like, Angel you have no idea how fucken’ hot that was. We’re gonna’ have to sit here a few minutes longer so I can get myself under control. There is no way I can concentrate on driving after watching you eat. It was sexy as hell.” Sexy? How in the hell could someone hoovering their meal like a starved beast be sexy? I’m sure at one point I even grunted. I was mortified and Jax was in a lust crazed fog. I guess that was just one prime example of the very vast and extensive differences between men and women.

  Eventually we left The Pit Stop and Jax had two pick-ups to make before heading back to Mercy’s. I tagged along at each stop and left my backpack in the car each time. The second time wasn’t quite as difficult as the first and the third time was a breeze. I trusted Jax to keep me and my things safe. By the time we got back to the shelter it was getting dark. I helped Jax unload the boxes he had put in the back of the Dodge and settled into what had quickly become my evening routine, helping with the laundry, giving the bathrooms a quick check and finally helping Mary in the kitchen. I liked Mary, she actually reminded me of the female version of Benny. If Mary wasn’t already married I would have suggested to Jax that we try and set the two up. Finally I found myself in my new favorite chair, bright lamp at my side and sketch book open in my lap. I was sketching a portrait of Benny tonight. He was fun to draw with his larger than life eyes and big bushy beard. I didn’t see Jax settle down beside me, but I smelt him, clean and fresh. It reminded me of the woods. Damn he smelt good.

  “I’m about to head off,” he said with a little reluctance in his voice. I didn’t want him to go, I had enjoyed his company today, panic attack and all. But I nodded before flicking back a couple of pages in my sketch book and carefully tore the picture along the perforated edge. It was the portrait I had drawn of Mercy. I handed it to him and waited nervously. It was a long time before he said anything, he just stared at it, taking in every shadow, every sweeping bold line. Mercy looked tired in the portrait, but at the same time, determ
ined. It was how I saw her.

  Finally Jax moved. He placed the picture carefully aside and slid out of his chair, kneeling before me. All I could do was sit and stare with my heart racing, my eyes not willing to blink in case I missed something. Jax’s rigid stomach pushed against my knees, his hands rested on the arms of the chair. I was caged in, but didn’t feel threatened. In fact, I think the only thing I was in threat of was being kissed and that didn’t seem to frighten me nearly as much as it should have.

  “Damn angel. Seldom am I speechless.” He shook his head, no doubt watching me carefully to see if I would panic over his closeness. He carefully reached for my hand. My finger-tips were blackened with charcoal, but Jax didn’t seem to care. He held my hand tenderly in his.

  “This,” he whispered, squeezing my hand. “This is a gift.” His fingers then touched my face with reverence, running tenderly down my temples, tracing my scar and finally sweeping around my eyes which fluttered closed. “These,” he brushed his thumbs gently over my eyelashes, his face so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “These see more truth than anyone I have ever known.” His hands left my face and I opened my eyes again as his hand very slowly dropped to my neck, his fingers following the line of my collarbone, then his palm opened. “And this,” he pressed his hand over my chest, right over my heart. “This is the most beautiful thing in existence.” I was stunned. My breathing was now embarrassingly fast and I’m sure he could feel my heart pounding frantically under his hand. Please kiss me, I silently begged. He did, but not at all how I expected it. Jax took my hand once more and placed his warm soft lips to the center of my palm. No one had ever kissed me in such a way. The kiss vanquished all ugliness and left me feeling raw, naked and beautiful. This kiss rocked my world like no other touch could. When Jax finally stood and simply walked away with Mercy’s portrait in hand, I almost wept at the loss of his body so close to mine. It was in that moment I realized I could easily love Jax Carter.

  Chapter 13

  Jax

  I had to get out of Mercy’s and fast. If I didn’t I was going to start mauling Ella like a sex crazed fool. Fuck she was simply beautiful, inside and out. She was perfect and there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to keep a professional distance. As far as I was concerned, she was mine. I glanced down at the picture of Mercy. It was flawlessly stunning. Ella got it right in one simple elegant sketch. She had the weary look in her face that Mercy always wore, but the strong determined eyes that made her who she was. Ella seemed to be able to sketch people honestly, seeing in their eyes and faces what most others would likely miss. I ran a hand through my tangled mess of hair. Shit, my memory was burned with the scent and feel of Ella. As my fingers had touched her face I had almost trembled with the exquisite hunger that surged through my body for this woman. When I placed my palm over her chest, right over the delectable rise of her breast, I thought my body would explode. There was no fear in her eyes, she was not scared of me. What I did see there floored me though, trust. How in such a short time had I gained this angels trust? One thing I knew for sure, I would not betray it, and I would not fail her like I had Sarah. It was in that moment, on my knees before Ella that I realized something monumental. Something that I felt needed to be marked in my life permanently in the form of a picture, a song, another tattoo maybe? This was the moment I realized I was in love with Ella.

  Fuck, I loved her. I had never loved a girl before. Not like this. I loved Mercy, I adored women. I spent a good portion of my life showing women just how much I adored them. But this was different. Sure I wanted her just like any red blooded male would, but I could see Ella as my forever girl. I could picture her in my home, in my bed, all tussled and cute. I could picture her with a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly. I groaned loudly. I was done for, Ella owned me and I would likely do anything for her. A sucker punch to the head wouldn’t have floored me any less.

  The next morning when I arrived back at Mercy’s I kept a careful distance from Ella, I didn’t want to overwhelm her. Thankfully she left for work soon after I arrived which gave me a little room to actually get my body under control and use my brain for longer than a few minutes. She had seemed quietly happy before she left, casting shy glances my way every now and again. It made me wonder what experience she had had with men. She didn’t flirt and act like other girls her age did, but having been hurt by a man would certainly dampen any desire to try and attract members of the opposite sex. She blushed so easily though, and I had caught her more than once watching my body carefully, as if seeing a man for the first time. She was an artist so perhaps it was simply attention to detail. Hey eyes were filled with a familiar look that wasn’t at all clinical, the raging blush in her cheeks told me that much. She was young, Annie had admitted that she thought she was a teenager, but Ella had confessed to her that she was twenty-two. Twenty-two was too old to be a virgin, surely. Damn, I was now imagining myself sinking into that beautiful little body and my raging dick was demanding attention, right in the middle of Mercy’s fucking kitchen!

  “Are you reading tea leaves or something?” Her voice was so familiar and welcome I couldn’t stop the stupid grin that crept over my face. I was man enough to admit I had missed her today and man enough to admit I knew she finished work at five and it was now a little after seven. My shift had been relieved over an hour ago but I refused to leave until I knew Ella was back and safe. Where had she been the last two hours? I made sure to keep my front to the sink, I didn’t want to scare her with the bulge in my jeans.

  “Good evening angel. Where’ve you been?”

  “I went with Annie to look at apartments.”

  “And?”

  “And they found a really nice place down town. It has two bedrooms so Eli can have his own room. It’s clean and the super said he hasn’t seen a rat in months.” Ella chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile along with her. “They move in on Sunday and Annie invited me over for pizza that night to celebrate.” She looked wistful. “I’ve never been invited to someone’s place for dinner before.” Her voice was so low I almost missed her confession.

  “Really?” I tried not to sound surprised, but hell, I was and I guess I couldn’t help but sound it. Ella nodded.

  “How old were you when you left home?”

  “Seventeen, almost eighteen.”

  “Before that, you never went out with your parents, maybe to their friends place for dinner?” She shook her head.

  “My mom was kind of embarrassed of me. I was sort of rebellious as a teenager and she was embarrassed by some of the things I did. She was also a bit of a perfectionist, she liked everything to be orderly, tidy, I wasn’t. I liked jeans, she liked dresses. I liked my hair messy, hers was perfectly tidy. I liked boy shorts and sports bras, she had to have Victoria’s Secret. I wasn’t the daughter she had hoped for.” I was pissed, her mom sounded like a fucking bitch. Shit, her mom sounded like Selena.

  “What about your dad?” Now I was pushing. I wanted to know more, and I knew I should just let her offer the information when she was ready, but screw that. She trusted me, I knew she did. Time for a bit of Ella’s history, as painful as I knew it would be to hear, I needed to know. Ella fiddled with the cup, examining it like it was a fine work of art.

  “My dad died when I was thirteen. He didn’t really have friends. He had work colleagues, he worked a lot. He had to keep mother happy and financed. We ate in, always. He made sure at least he and I sat down to dinner every night, mother was out, a lot.” I leant against the bench settling in for what I hoped was a long and thorough discussion. She had my full undivided attention.

  “I’m sorry he died, he sounded like a good man, someone who would have protected you.” Ella’s breath seemed to hitch and she tried not to look at me. I placed my finger under her chin and turned her to face me. “How did your dad die?”

  “Heart attack,” two simple words that obviously tore a little girl’s life apart. “In our kitchen. We were home alone,
as usual mother was away. I called the ambulance and he was taken to the hospital. I sat there alone until midnight when mother finally stumbled in, tipsy from too many cocktails. She had promised to be home for dinner but obviously she was late. I didn’t get to see my dad. She took me home and we buried him a week later.” Her voice was emotionless and it broke my heart. We were on a roll and I had no intention of stopping now.

  “Who hurt you Ella?” She breathed deeply and seemed to be finding the strength to continue. Her thumb began to trace the scar on her opposite wrist in a methodical motion. Clearly she was oblivious to what she was actually doing. It was a habit, something she did when this man came into her thoughts.

  “Marcus, my step-father.” I held back my sneer, I wanted to kill this man. “Mother married six months after daddy died. I knew Marcus would hurt me, I saw it in his eyes.” Even at thirteen she was far too perceptive.

  “Did you ask for help? Go to the police?” I knew she would bristle at my questions, but I had to know. I needed to know who had failed her so I could bring a world of hurt into their lives. She did indeed stiffen at my words and her sharp eyes focused on me.

  “I was a mess Jax. I did stupid things after my dad died and Marcus came into our lives. First it was just to embarrass him and my mom, but later it was a way to escape. I used drugs, drank, slept around.” She was watching me closely to gage my response and I was careful to keep the look on my face neutral. I had no doubt she expected me to dislike what she was saying, and I did, though not likely for the reasons she would assume. I hated that she was thrust into that life, that she did those things to escape someone who had betrayed her, who was supposed to protect her, regardless of whether he was her biological father or not. “I was in trouble with the police more than once, I couldn’t go to them, they thought I was your typical delinquent teenager and Marcus had a friend on the force anyway. He always made sure I was found, dealt with and placed back into the hands of my step-father. After I was hospitalized for my apparent suicide attempt there was no way any one would ever believe me.” I hated hearing the mess her life had become. Her dad had loved her, made a good start for her then between her selfish mother and abusive step-father, it had all fallen down around her.