Rescuing Broken

by Gina Azzi

  And what about Baylor? I'm determined that if I get in, I will go. It's time. It's been time for years, and I can't waste any more of it blinking. Would Jax still want me if I move to another state? Would he come with me? How could he if he's opening an autobody repair shop with Denver?

  Could we ever have any type of future together?

  Parking in front of his house, I turn off the ignition and climb out of my car, ambling to his front door where he waits for me, sitting casually on the porch.

  Tucking my hands into the pockets of my jean shorts, I stand a few feet away from him, taking in his light brown hair falling slightly over his forehead, the deep green of his eyes, the slash of his cheekbones, and the cut of his jaw. He's too beautiful to be real most of the time. The scar around his eyebrow glints in the sunlight as he turns toward the door. The sight of it settles me, a comfort, as I remember the Jaxon Kane from years ago.

  "Come on." He stands, holding out a hand.

  I take it tentatively and follow him inside, waiting until the door closes behind us.

  Following him into the kitchen, I mentally cringe at the way things unfolded between us the last time we were here. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did; I shouldn't have questioned his future with the Army.

  "Stop overthinking everything." His smooth voice cuts through my mental berating, and I offer a shaky smile, sliding onto a bar stool at the island.

  "What do you want to show me?"

  His face reddens, almost as if he's blushing. Ducking his head, he walks over to a drawer and pulls out an old purple notebook. A heavy crease cuts the notebook nearly in half, and spirally paper worms dart out of the binding. He holds the notebook up and I laugh.

  "Scrounge that up in the junk drawer?" I joke.

  He shakes his head. "Gladys gave it to me."

  "Gladys?"

  "Yeah. I went to see her this morning. Mindy was there, said she was having a really good day. She was happy to see me. Really happy." His eyebrows furrow together as if this confuses him.

  "Of course, she was. She adores you. Adores all you Kane boys, even when you're raising hell and causing all kinds of trouble."

  "It's crazy, isn't it?"

  "No, she knows y'all are good boys at heart."

  "Don't let Den hear you say that."

  "Den's changed, too."

  "He has, hasn't he?"

  "Yeah."

  Jax nods, his eyes suddenly faraway, as if he's lost in thought, fixated on things that happened long ago. "I guess so. Anyway," he says, meeting my gaze again, his eyes amused now, "we started talking, and then she told me she had to return something to me. Mindy was just as confused as I was and tried to have Gladys sit back down, but she was so insistent." He chuckles. "You remember how she could be?"

  I nod; Gladys could be a hell raiser herself if the situation called for it.

  "She went into her room for a few, Mindy trailing her, probably scared what she was going to bring out, and then she returned with this." He passes me the old notebook from the year we had British Literature together in high school.

  "Gladys reminded me that sometimes just showing up isn't enough. That you have to be honest and sincere and remorseful. She demanded that I offer you the apology you deserve because she said I'd never win you back otherwise."

  My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline, and I can't stop the nervous giggle falling from my lips. "Win me back?"

  Jax’s eyes darken and his features settle into sharp angles of determination. His next words are whispered earnestly, "I'm sorry, Evie. I'm sorry for the way I left town. I'm sorry for the way I left you. But most of all, I'm sorry for making you feel like I didn't want you anymore. For making you question yourself. You are the bravest, most badass woman I know, and it breaks my heart that my actions made you feel insecure or less than who you are.”

  I stare at him, my breath lodged in my throat, and my hands pressed between my thighs to keep them from shaking.

  "I missed you so much those first few months, that’s why I kept reaching out. I thought we’d get back together. Once you asked me to stop, I cut off my communication with everyone from here. Deleted Facebook and the rest of my social media accounts for about a year. Avoided all calls from my brothers and blew off emails from Daisy. I was scared that if I spoke to them, I'd ask about you, and I'd regret ending things between us in the first place. Hell, after you asked me to back off, I did regret ending things between us at all. I was furious with myself for not going with you to New York.”

  Tears prick behind my eyes at his honesty and at the hurt he also endured. The realization of what we should have been and what we are couldn't be farther apart.

  "And I hated myself for it. Hated myself for hurting you. I knew I was in love with you; I knew there would never be another girl who came close. But I wanted to make my own way, I wanted to carve my own path. I wanted us to both have successful, exciting careers. And I didn’t figure out early enough how to make that happen for both of us while staying together.”

  I shake my head at his words, tears spilling over my eyelids and tracking my cheeks.

  "As time passed, it got easier. I became close with my squad, traveled the world, got lost in the distance I put between us. After Ethan…" He tugs the back of his neck, his fingers pinching the skin at the base. "I wanted to come home. I wanted to be done with distance and space; I wanted roots." He looks at me, his eyes softening. "I never thought you'd be here, Maywood. God, how I hoped, but I didn't believe it until I got back. Until I saw you at Raf's. So I figure this is some big, cosmic joke, my getting a second chance with you. Having the opportunity to win you back. I know it's been a long time; I know a lot has changed. But I also know that I'm still crazy in love with you, and there will never be anyone else for me. You’re it. So," he exhales shakily, flipping the notebook open and ruffling pages until he finds the one he's looking for. He turns the notebook around so I can read it and sighs. "Gladys suggested I begin with this."

  27

  Jax

  Dear Evie,

  If you're reading this, it's because I'm gone. I know I told you I was leaving, but the truth is I didn't actually think I'd go through with it. Not even after I signed my name to enlist. Not even after I told my brothers and Daisy and packed my bag. Not even after I kissed you goodbye.

  The day I told you I enlisted, you looked at me with so much sadness and disappointment. Much more than anyone else ever has. And it fucking hurt. Partly because I hate disappointing you and making you cry, and partly because I know no one will ever feel for me as much as you do.

  I'm sorry for hurting you, Evie. I'm sorry for not being enough for you. I know that you say I am, and that may be true now, but it won't be in the future. You are filled up with goodness and dreams bigger than anything I've ever imagined. You've made me see an entire world beyond the borders of our town; a world I didn't even think to consider.

  You've got a beautiful future ahead of you, Evie. You're smart, determined, sassy as all hell, and the most selfless person I know. I have to let you go, so you can go off and be that person. If I don't, I'll hold you back, and I would never want to do that to you. So even though you don't believe me now, I promise one day you will.

  Whatever I do next, whomever I grow into, anything good that I accomplish is because of you. Knowing you has given me a future. You rescued me, Evie, and I'll always be grateful. I hope one day you can remember me and smile the way I always do when I think of you.

  Jax

  Her eyes scan across the last line, and I drop my dog tags next to the letter before she can look up. Her fingers reach out, tracing along the small beads and across the indentation of my name on the plates.

  "Jax?" She looks up, her eyes watery and her cheeks stained from where her tears fell.

  "I want to thank you, Evie."

  "Thank me? For what?"

  "For me. For everything. I never would have amounted to anything much if I hadn't met you, if you hadn't pushed me to
be better. To want more."

  "I didn't do anything, Jax." She looks down, watching her toes as they scrape back and forth against the bottom rung of the barstool.

  "You did. You did so much more than you even realize."

  She shakes her head and pushes back from the island, sliding off the barstool, as if my words are difficult to hear.

  I take a step in her direction.

  "Stop it." She whirls toward me, streaks of anger blazing red patches on her cheeks. "I didn't do anything. I haven't accomplished anything. I've been here. This entire time, I've been here, watching the rest of the world pass me by."

  "You saved my life." I pull my dog tags from the island and push them toward her.

  "Stop."

  "This is what I owe you." I force the folded tags into her hands.

  She laughs but it’s jarring, a bitter undercurrent edging her next words. "Are you kidding me? You owe me your dog tags?"

  "Yes!"

  A tear escapes from her left eye, tracing her cheek slowly as she shakes her head. "I don't want them."

  "Why?"

  "I don't want this!" She gestures between us, the chain of the tags wrapping around her fingers as the nameplate swings wildly. My whole life wrapped up in her hands, the way it always should have been.

  "I don't want this," she says quieter this time, the tears coming faster. "I wanted you."

  "You have me. That's what I'm telling you. The letter, the dog tags, all of it. This is me. I never should have left, but we're getting a second chance, and this is all I have left to give. The truth and the future."

  A heavy silence settles between us, adding weight to the words we speak. Evie's breathing and my racing heart are the only sounds beating in my eardrums. I need her to understand. I need her to see me. Really see me, the way she used to. "Evie, please."

  She looks at me with such sadness I feel my soul splinter. Shards of the past infiltrate into the now, and it’s like I'm staring at seventeen-year-old Evie and the woman she should have become compared to the woman she is. Broken, dejected, a shell.

  Sifting the dog tags between her fingers, her lips curl gently. "These ruined everything, you know that? If you hadn't enlisted, if you hadn't left…" She shakes her head. "I'm not whole anymore. Do you understand that? Your letter is beautiful. I wish I read it seven years ago. It doesn't matter now because I didn't go on to accomplish any of my dreams. Not one. I'm not—I can't be everything you need."

  "I just need you."

  "You say that now. Just like I said it years ago. This time our roles are reversed, and I don't know if I can give you more."

  "You don't have to."

  "Jaxon."

  "Evie, listen to me." I step forward, closing my fingers around her hand, letting the mistakes and achievements of my past wrap around our wrists, binding us together. "I said I was leaving because it was the best thing for you, the right thing to do. I told myself that you could never reach your dreams with me always holding you back."

  She hiccups, her eyes boring into mine.

  "But I was scared and stupid. I was a kid, and I had no idea what to do with all the things I felt for you then. You were so sure of yourself, so confident in your future path. You always knew exactly who you are and I-I didn't. Carter told me I was selfish and he was right. But I was eighteen and however misguided my intentions were, I swear I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I never expected to come home and find you here. And I sure as hell never expected for you to be —"

  "Like this?" she whispers.

  "What happened? Why won't you let me in?"

  She pulls back and steps behind the barstool, so it's between us, giving herself distance from me. The war of emotions playing out on her face is brutal to witness, so I can't imagine how she must feel. Finally, she collapses on the barstool as if her legs can't support her weight anymore.

  I step closer, but give her the time she needs to collect her thoughts.

  "If I let you in and you leave, I'll be nothing. Don't you see? You can reduce me to nothing. And I don't want to be nothing."

  "You could never be nothing. God, Evie, you're everything."

  Her fingers play with the chain of my dog tags, her thumb running over each bead of stainless steel. Time seems to slow as she places the tags on the counter and turns toward me. I angle my body until I’m standing straight in front of her, watching every emotion as it flashes across her face. Her hands reach up and she lays them flat against my chest. Slowly, they slide upwards until they glide over my shoulders, her fingers intertwining behind my neck. Her breathing is rapid, her eyes piercing mine with a desperation I can't place. She tugs against my neck gently, pulling my face toward hers.

  Confusion clouds my mind as I try to follow her thought process but I don't question her, even as warnings rattle in my head. Instead, I dip my face to hers and capture her lips with mine.

  28

  Evie

  His lips are warm as they touch mine. For a moment, I'm transported to a million years ago. To a hot summer night, fireflies, and the boy who held my heart. He shuffles forward, deepening the kiss and the memory fades, replaced by the man who stands before me now. His hands reach up to touch my cheeks and his fingers lace through my hair, holding my head steady.

  I moan, my fingers digging into his scalp. I melt into him, dissolving into the safety I know he provides—once provided.

  Jax's thumb brushes against my cheek, and I part my lips, allowing his tongue to dip in and dance with mine. His hand drops to my back, pulling me closer until I'm perched on the edge of the barstool, and the only thing stopping me from falling is him. I cling to him, my frustration from earlier evaporating into a wild need to lose myself in him once more. Until the past and the hurt and memories dissolve, and we're both holding onto this moment as if it's the only one that's ever existed.

  My eyes flutter closed, and I breathe him in, kissing him back, my skin on fire, my heart racing. He breaks the kiss, moving his lips along my jaw, behind my ear, and down my neck.

  "Evie." It's a whisper, but it's loaded with so much promise, so much longing, so much.

  I guide his lips back to mine and stand on the bottom rung of the barstool, so we're nearly the same height. Bracing my hands against his shoulders for leverage, my lips clash with his fiercely as I pour all the feelings I'm too scared to say into his mouth.

  He smells like soap and summer and mint. He tastes like home. His skin is hot where it touches mine, infusing me with a thrill that travels throughout my body, causing my fingers to twist in his T-shirt, as if it were possible to pull him closer.

  "Evie," he whispers again. "God, I missed you. You feel so good." The tip of his tongue traces my lower lip before accessing my mouth again.

  So good.

  I'm going to make this so good for you.

  I shudder, remembering the harsh laugh, the ugly words coming from the wrong mouth.

  "No." I shake my head, placing my palms on his chest and shoving hard, losing my balance and teetering sideways. "Don't touch me, please."

  Jax's hands settle me on the floor as I push him back to ensure there's space between us.

  I'm transported back in time. Stuck in a night that ended but lives on in my thoughts and nightmares. So long ago, so much of it I don't remember at all. But the parts I do, it's as if they occurred yesterday or an hour ago.

  Jax's eyes snap open, his nostrils flaring. I see him before me, bewilderment crossing his face and uncertainty burning in his eyes. But I also see the shadowy outline of someone else. Of two of them.

  "Evie." His voice is steady now, his hand reaching out to me.

  I retreat immediately, wrapping my arms around my stomach as if they can somehow hold me together.

  "Evie, what's wrong? Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Jax explains, his voice low and soothing.

  "I have to go." I look around frantically, as if searching for an emergency exit from my life. My voice is em
pty save for the edge of panic, my head caught up in a different moment. Goosebumps break out along my skin and a clammy coldness spreads from the base of my neck to the small of my back.

  "Wait." Jax reaches for me again, but I flinch at the possibility of his touch. He backs up slowly, his hands raised in surrender.

  I'm gasping for air, the lack of oxygen clawing at my throat. My hands reach up, clasping the base of my neck.

  "Evie, you're okay." Jax's voice is even and calm. Unhurried. "You're having a panic attack, baby. Please sit down." He takes a step closer and when I continue to stand and stare, he jumps into action, pressing gently on my shoulder until I collapse in a chair he pulled from the kitchen table. He guides my head down until it's in between my knees. "Breathe, Evie. In and out. You're okay. It's just me and you. Everything is going to be okay." He rubs soothing circles on my back, his touch light.

  I focus on his words, my eyes trained on the floor and fixed on a spot of cereal crumbs. Little by little, my breathing regulates, and I come back to the present, the shadows banished once more. I listen to the sounds of my breath, tune in to the inhales and exhales, keeping my mind blank from the thoughts wanting to invade and pull me back into darkness. I ignore the insecurities and doubts bubbling up in my chest.

  "I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

  I grasp onto his voice like a lifeline and let his touch bring me back to the now. Here. With him.

  After several moments, I raise my head. Turning to look at him, the devastation I read in his eyes levels me. "Jax."

  "Shh," he hushes me, pulling me closer and wrapping my entire body in his.

  We sit in silence on two chairs in his kitchen with the familiar gingham curtains hanging over the sink for a long, long time.