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Until Jax

Page 7

by Aurora Rose Reynolds


  “You’re gonna have your hands full, my friend,” Jones says, pulling my eyes from where they were glued on the bathroom door and turn to look at him. “You know I love you, man, but some of the girls you’ve been with are,” he rolls his finger around his ear, “muy loco, and that girl…your girl looks scared of her own shadow.”

  “She’s been through a lot,” I tell him, and he points the spatula in his hand at me.

  “I know, and that’s why I’m telling you to close down shop on these bitches, so they don’t think they have the right to fuck with her. ’Cause, homie, whether you want to face it or not, they will fuck with her, and until your relationship is solid, you can’t have that shit.”

  “I know, man.” I let out a deep breath then stand when Ellie comes back to the table.

  “You okay?” I ask, pulling out her chair again.

  “Yeah, fine, sorry,” she mumbles, picking her menu back up.

  “You know what you want, beautiful?” Jones asks, and I try not to let it annoy me that he’s calling her beautiful, but it still does.

  “What’s good?” she asks him, setting down the menu, turning her body toward him.

  “Everything, but if you trust me, I’ll make you something special,” he says, giving her the smile that had women dropping panties left and right before he got married to Sylvia.

  “Sure.” She shrugs.

  “You want your usual?”

  “Yeah, man,” I say then look at Ellie, who has her eyes on her coffee cup in front of her. How the hell I’m going to prove to her that she’s it for me, I have no idea, but I know there is no fucking way she won’t be mine.

  *

  “You may now kiss the bride,” the pastor says, and Wes bends July backwards over his arm, kissing her in a way that I’m surprised Uncle Asher doesn’t get out of his seat, storm up the aisle, and take her from him.

  “Oh, God,” my sister sitting next to me cries, and I look down at her as she wipes her eyes while wrapping her arm around mine. “They are so perfect for each other,” she says then looks at me, smiling before standing up when everyone else does.

  “Ax,” Hope calls from my other side, and I pull my eyes from my sister and hold my breath as Hope smiles up at me.

  She looks like her mom…her mom, who has taken up my every thought since meeting her.

  “What’s up, sweetheart?” I ask softly, still unsure of what to do with a three-year-old little girl.

  “Can you pit me up so I can see Mama?” she asks, and my chest gets tight, similar to the way it does every time I look at her mom.

  “Sure,” I say, and she holds her hands up to me. I pick her up in her big poufy pink dress then lift her onto my shoulders so she can see her mom walk down the aisle behind July, holding onto Harlen’s arm, which causes a different kind of tightness to fill my chest.

  She looks beautiful today. Her long brown hair is tied up with a white ribbon that is woven through a braid, which is wrapped behind her ear with small pieces framing her face. Her body is incased in a dress that is so formfitting I know just from looking that her breasts would fit perfectly in my hands. Hell, her body fits perfectly against mine. I know this, because every chance I get, I have her close. Since we had breakfast this morning, I have made a point to show her I want her and that she’s the only woman I think about.

  She’s mine. She may not understand it—hell, I don’t even know if I understand it—but she was made for me.

  Taking Hope with me, I meet Ellie at the end of the aisle and take her from Harlen, who just grins when I pull her from his grasp with a hand around her waist.

  “Mama, you wook so pwetty,” Hope says as she moves from my hold into Ellie’s arms.

  “Thank you, Angel,” Ellie says then looks at me. “I can’t believe how many people are here.” Looking around my uncle’s backyard, I have to admit there are a lot of people for such a spontaneous wedding, but I’m not surprised. The women in my family are determined if nothing else.

  “I’m starving,” Hope says dramatically, leaning her body way back until she’s looking at me upside down.

  Smiling at her, I mutter, “Let’s get you girls something to eat,” before placing my hand against Ellie’s lower back, leading her through the crowd towards the food that has been laid out. Once we each have a plate, I head toward the table my parents are sitting at with my sister.

  The moment Hope spots my dad, she yells, “Gwampa!” and runs to him. He picks her up, tossing her in the air, causing her large, poufy dress to float up around her as she laughs loudly. Then she looks at my mom and smiles, yelling, “Gwamma, look! My pwincess dress fits me!” making Mom’s eyes go soft as she says something I can’t hear.

  “I don’t know when she started calling them Grandma and Grandpa,” Ellie whispers, stopping a few feet from the table.

  “My mom probably bribed her,” I tell her, wanting to get the look of unease off her face. And that probably isn’t a lie—I know my mom and dad both love kids. They would’ve had more than my sister and me if things had been different, but after being apart for so long, I know they wanted to focus on our family.

  “Hope has never really had grandparents. My mom, as you know, is crazy, and my dad, who would have adored her, died long before she ever got a chance to meet him.” She pauses. “She already loves them,” she says softly, and before I have a chance to ask her about Hope’s father’s family and why none of them are around or involved in her life, she steps away from me toward the table, taking a seat. I follow and sit next to her, watching her face as she watches Hope, who is now sitting on my mom’s lap and babbling about something to my dad.

  “They’re already in love with her too,” I say, nudging Ellie’s shoulder with mine to get her attention. When her eyes come to me, I dip my face closer to hers and tell her gently, “You have family now. Both you and Hope do.”

  Her lips press together, and that tightness fill my chest again, making me uncomfortable. Taking her hand from the table, I wrap it around my thigh, placing my hand over hers. It might take some time, but one way or another, she will learn to accept she isn’t alone anymore.

  Chapter 4

  Ellie

  After putting away the rest of Hope’s clothes in the closet and making her bed, I head downstairs to the kitchen. Since Ashlyn picked Hope up this morning, I have no possible reason to stay up here any longer, and I’m sure Jax, who knocked on my door thirty minutes ago and told me he needed to talk to me, isn’t going to give me much longer to avoid him.

  It’s Tuesday, three days since July’s wedding, and I haven’t seen much of Jax since then. On Sunday, the day after the wedding, I had to work, so Jax’s mom watched Hope, and then Jax picked her up and made her dinner. He sent me a text at work asking if Hope could have ice cream, to which I told him not before dinner. I can see now that my girl has him wrapped around her finger.

  When I got home, I had a quick dinner, and luckily Hope was just as tired as I was, so we had an early night. Yesterday, Jax worked, so I only saw him for a brief moment when he stopped at Hope’s bedroom door. His eyes collided with mine as we stared at each other until he rumbled, “Goodnight,” quietly and left the doorway. Hope had long since fallen asleep, but I couldn’t leave her, and if I’m honest with myself, I used her like a shield to protect myself from Jax.

  I know I find him attractive. I know the kiss he gave me in the car stole more than my laughter. I know the way I felt when he told his friend I’m his girlfriend. I know that at the wedding, when I shared a slow dance with him and he held me tight against his body, I felt like the only women in the world. I know the way I felt watching him hold my daughter, who had fallen asleep in his lap as he laughed with his family, all while keeping a firm grip on my hand. I know I want more than anything to believe it’s my turn to find happiness, but I also know how I felt having a beautiful woman shove reality in my face and down my throat while I sat across from Jax in a restaurant.

  I hate the way I feel
about Jax being with other women. I don’t expect any man in this day and age to be a virgin or to have waited until marriage to have sex. But I can honestly say the idea of being with a man who looks like Jax, and who has his dating history, is worrisome. I don’t only have myself to think about; I have a daughter who watches everything I do. I don’t want to show her at an early age that some men are assholes and can’t be trusted.

  Moving down the stairs, I pause. Even my lungs freeze up when I hear Jax ask, “When was she taken?” My heart beats hard against my ribcage and my legs begin to get weak. Another woman was taken. Could it be the same guys who took July and me? The same guys who had drugged that girl then brought her back so doped out of her mind she didn’t even know who she was?

  I hate that one of them lived, and I hate more there are others no one knows about. I don’t want to live in fear, but I’m afraid. I can’t help but think they will come after me again. The first time they took me, I had just gotten off work at the salon and was heading for the bus stop, when their van pulled up, opened the side door, and hefted me inside like a scene out of a movie. I was so stunned I don’t even think I screamed until I realized what they were doing, that they were actually wrapping tape around my wrists, and then they told me my mom sold me to them. What kind of parent sells their only living child into sex trafficking? How does anyone even know how to get into contact with people who do traffic? The whole thing disturbs me, but one thing I do know—I have Jax now, and though I may feel conflicted about the status of our relationship, I know deep down he will protect Hope and me.

  Tiptoeing toward the entryway to the kitchen, I try to be silent as I walk, so I can try to hear anything else. It does no good though, and I know Jax is still somehow aware I’m near without me ever making a sound, when he tells the person on the phone I’m there and he will see them in the office later.

  “Hey,” I say softly, avoiding his eyes and moving to the counter to the coffee pot, where I pull down a mug from the cupboard, pour myself a cup, and then go to the fridge. I grab the cream, put a splash in before moving to the counter, pull a spoon from the drawer, and scoop three heaping spoonsful of sugar in then stir.

  “Are you gonna look at me?” he asks.

  I really want to say no, but instead, I say, “Hmm?” taking a sip of coffee and closing my eyes, letting the taste and aroma work its way through my system. I pray that I’ll magically teleport to another dimension, where I can look at Jax but not have to talk to him, where I can be invisible.

  “You’ve been avoiding me since the wedding.”

  Knowing I have no choice, I turn my head and look at him. “I know,” I agree rather than lying, which causes his eyes to open wider in surprise.

  “You know?” he repeats as his brows pull together, causing two wrinkles to form between them.

  “I could lie and say I haven’t been avoiding you, but you would know I’m lying, and I suck at lying, so I may as well just tell the truth,” I rattle out before taking another sip of coffee, trying to keep my mouth occupied.

  “I appreciate that. I don’t like games,” he says as his face softens.

  “Me neither,” I agree, even though I have never played the kind of games he’s probably talking about.

  “So why are you avoiding me?” he asks, leaning back against the counter behind him and crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How can someone make leaning look hot? I do not know, but if I had a camera and took a couple pictures of him right now, with his still slightly damp hair, dark blue tee that’s straining against the muscles of his arms, his jeans hanging low, the warn material tight enough to show off the thickness of his thighs, I could probably sell those images for a lot of money to a catalog for whatever brand it is he’s wearing.

  “I like you,” I blurt then bite my lower lip in punishment.

  Why the hell did you say that?

  “I like you too,” he states simply, picking up his cup from the counter and taking a sip. “That’s why I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better, and you avoiding me doesn’t really allow me to do that.”

  “You’ve dated a looooot,” I drag out the word, telling him something he should know already, because obviously my filter is malfunctioning and I’m spewing out anything and everything that comes to mind.

  Watching him closely, I’m surprised when I see regret in his eyes. “I’ve dated a lot.” He nods, and I nod back, because what the hell else am I supposed to do? “But—” He starts to say something else, when there’s a loud knock at the door then the doorbell goes off. “Fuck,” he mutters, looking towards the door then back to me. “I’ll be right back. Just drink your coffee,” he says before prowling out of the kitchen toward the front door.

  Taking a sip, I frown when I hear a loud groan and something rattling and banging against the wall. Moving to the kitchen doorway, my heart drops into my stomach before picking up speed and banging hard against my ribcage.

  The blonde from the restaurant wearing skinny jeans, cowboy boots, and a sheer blouse has her body wrapped around Jax, her long legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, and her mouth on his…or his on hers, I don’t know. But I do know that his hands are on her ass as he leans back against the entry room table.

  Stepping back into the kitchen, I set my mug on the counter, absently feeling the hot liquid hit my skin before shaking it off, grabbing my coat and keys, and then leaving through the backdoor.

  Getting in the Rover Jax got me, the Rover that up until that moment I had not once been truly grateful for, I back out of the driveway, narrowly miss the car parked behind me, and then turn onto the street.

  I can’t recall ever feeling like I do right now, like I have just been stabbed in the chest, which makes no sense, because Jax is not mine.

  Parking in Ashlyn’s driveway, which is just a couple blocks away, I make my way to her front door and ring the bell, trying to get my breathing to even out, so I don’t sound like I just ran a race.

  “Hey!” She smiles, opening the door, then frowns when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?” she asks, grabbing onto my hand.

  I want to tell her everything. I want to tell her I like her brother waaay too much and that he was just mauled by a blonde but looked like he was enjoying it before I ran out of the house. I want to ask her if this pain in my chest is normal, if I should feel this way for someone I hardly know. I want to tell her all of this, but instead, I say, “Another girl was taken.”

  “Oh, no,” she whispers, covering her mouth.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry to do this. I know you guys were going to spend the day together, but do you mind if I take Hope early?”

  “Of course.” She nods as her cell phone begins to ring somewhere in the house.

  “Mama,” Hope yells excitedly, running toward me. “Wook at my makeup!” she cries happily, showing me a pink kids’ makeup set in her hands that Ashlyn obviously got for her.

  “So cool, Angel baby.” I smile, picking her up, seeing Ashlyn frown when her house phone starts to ring.

  “Tell Ashlyn thank you, Angel,” I tell Hope, leaning down and grabbing her bag that’s sitting right inside the door.

  “I’m weaving?” she pouts.

  “Yes, but you can come back again another time,” I assure her softly, really needing to get out of here.

  “Thanks, Aunty Ashwyn,” Hope says, blowing her a kiss.

  “Bye, Princess Hope.” Ashlyn smiles then looks over her shoulder when the phone that just went silent rings again.

  “You get that and we’ll see you soon,” I tell her, but I can see in her eyes that she knows something else is going on.

  “Are you sure you don’t want some coffee? I just put a pot on.” Feeling tears choking me, I shake my head.

  “Call me if you need to, honey,” she says gently as I step away from the door, and I carry Hope to the backdoor of the Rover, put her in, and make sure she’s buckled before getting in behind the wheel and backing out of Ashlyn’s driveway
.

  Looking at the house, I see Ashlyn standing in her open front door with the phone to her ear and a worried look in her eyes. Giving a slight wave, I finish backing out and then try to figure out what the hell it is I’m doing.

  I live with Jax, so I can’t avoid him forever, even if I wish I could go pick up my stuff from his place and head back to my trailer. My eyes go to the rearview mirror, and I see Hope is watching me and I swallow. No, I don’t wish that. We’re in the best place for us; I just need to get my heart out of the mix.

  “What do you say me and you spend the day at the zoo, Angel baby?” I ask.

  “Zoo?” she whispers, and then yells, “Yay! Zoo!” making me laugh.

  Heading through town, I get on the highway, and it only takes about twenty minutes for us to get to the zoo. Once we park the car, I rent one of the strollers they have available, even though as of right now Hope wants to walk. I know in a couple hours she’s not going to feel the same way, and I can’t carry her like I could when she was a baby.

  Walking into the zoo, I stop at one of the shops and grab an apple juice for her and a coffee for myself, along with a map.

  “Where to first, Angel?” I ask her, getting down on my haunches so she can look at the map with me.

  “What are those?” she asks, pointing at one of the pictures on the map.

  “Those are flamingos,” I tell her, watching her face as she studies the image.

  “Dey’re pink,” she says, pointing out there color.

  “They are. That’s their real color.”

  “Can I see them?” she asks hopefully.

  “Yes,” I agree, taking her hand in mine, using my other to push the stroller as we walk along the trails, stopping every once in awhile when we pass something that catches her attention.

  “Ax!” Hope yells, pulling her hand out of mine where we have stopped to look at some bison that are roaming in a large open field.

  My eyes meet Jax’s before he drops to one knee, catching Hope, who throws herself into his arms. Our eyes stay locked and I swallow. He looks pissed…or whatever emotion is worse than pissed.

 

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