I drew in a huge breath, suddenly nervous about what Jax would think. My concern made no sense. He was accustomed to seeing me au natural and dressed in skids. Still, I wasn’t sure. I strode out, threw my arms out to the sides.
“Ta da,” I said in an overly dramatic way. Being silly and over the top managed to stay my already frazzled nerves.
Jax’s eyes opened lazily as if he’d been napping. His dazed expression didn’t last long.
“Holy shit Marilee, you…” His voice faltered, as if he was searching for the words to say. I chewed on my lip, a bad habit I was all too fond of. I was positive that I’d already messed up my lipstick. Jax got to his feet. He moved toward me, his eyes stayed locked on mine the whole way over.
“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he said in a low gravelly voice. A shiver ran up my spine. He reached forward as if he meant to take my face in his hands, but froze midway.
“I don’t want to ruin your makeup, but damn do I want to kiss you right now,” he said, quirking a smile. I pressed my body to his, feeling the muscles of his taut stomach and chest against me. I drew his face down to mine. Our lips met and Jax’s kiss was so light that it felt like a puff of air on my mouth. I tried to get more of a response, but he stepped back.
“Like I said, I’d love to do this all night, but for a change I have other plans for us.”
I groaned loudly. I was actually mad that we couldn’t do just that. I felt so good, like a normal teenage girl. For one night I was able to do regular things, like go out on a date with my boyfriend. Boyfriend. Even thinking of Jax as my boyfriend made my stomach twist a little.
Once again I questioned why he wanted me. I shook my head, there would be plenty of time for self-loathing, but never enough time spent with Jax. It seemed a shame to waste one moment of the evening on worrying if I was good enough. I slipped on my black wool coat, buttoned it, then wrapped a multicolored, striped scarf carelessly around my neck.
Jax, in a very un-Jax like way, offered me his arm, as if he were a gentleman from a Jane Austen movie. I couldn’t help but giggle, since he probably would have been cast as the suave stable boy, not the gentleman. I looped my arm through his and we strode down the deserted halls of the hospital, as if it was my home, not a hospital.
“You sure this is all sanctioned?” I said with a nervous look over my shoulder.
Jax just nodded. We were silent as we walked. The only sound was the soft tap of my shoes on the linoleum. When we’d made our way to the foyer, I paused to look at the decorations and lights that filled the space. It only served to remind me that Christmas was only two weeks away. The concept that I was supposed to go to Jax’s for dinner seemed daunting and exciting at the same time, but for the time being I shook it from my thoughts. I wanted to be fully present for my night out, and not miss one single thing.
When we stepped outside the sliding glass doors, I noticed a sleek black stretch limousine parked directly in front of the hospital entrance. I wondered if some kind of celebrity was visiting a sick fan in the hospital. It didn’t really make sense since it was late. I also hadn’t seen one camera or crew, who surely would have been documenting the event.
A middle-aged man dressed in a dark uniform, complete with a top policeman style hat and a long trench coat made his way around the car. He opened the door and gave a tip of his hat as if he wanted us to get in. I stared at him, then Jax. Jax’s face was shining with elation. It took me a few seconds to work it out, but I finally realized that the limousine was for us.
“Jax?” I said, too stunned to speak. I knew what limos cost. Jax just didn’t make the kind of money to waste it on something as frivolous as this. I opened my mouth to protest. Before I said a word he placed a long finger against my lips.
“I know you’re going to think I used your money, but I didn’t. I dipped into my savings and…” He broke off suddenly. I was ticked off that he thought that I assumed he’d used money from the Peace Project, and that I didn’t believe he could afford it. In that moment I understood that despite Jax’s seemingly relaxed appearance he was just as unsure of himself as I was. Only his worries were around something I had more than ample amounts of, money and the luxuries it brought with it.
Jax moved forward, guiding me toward the car. Light snow drifted down from the sky, catching in his dark hair. As corny as it was, all I could think was that he was my prince. The guy in the fairytales that saved the distraught maiden. The prince who I’d always dreamed would come for me had arrived.
The limousine smelled of leather and jasmine air freshener. It was much the same as every other one I’d driven in, but somehow with Jax with me and knowing how much he must have paid to make this happen, it was like the first time all over again. I glanced over at Jax who seemed absolutely awestruck by the limo. His hand grazed the length of the dark leather seats then he opened the mini bar and tugged out a couple bottles of water.
“So this is what money tastes like,” he said grinning. I burst into laughter.
“Jax it’s the same water they sell at the supermarket only here they charge you ten times the price.”
He nodded. “I know, but c’mon you gotta admit, it’s nice digs.”
The car started moving. Jax moved into the space next to me, gathering me against him. He moved a lock of hair out of the way, kissing the curve of my neck.
“I have to say this hair kind of blocks me from having free access,” he said, resting his head against mine. I closed my eyes, scared that if I opened them it would all have been a dream. Surely this already perfect night couldn’t be real.
Jax nuzzled my neck, tickling my ribs before he thrust his tongue inside my ear.
“Hey, gross,” I said, elbowing him lightly. He broke into riotous laughter before saying.
“Don’t all girls like the tongue lunge?” he whispered.
“Hardly, and who actually calls it the tongue lunge?” I said.
“We’re here,” he said pointing toward the front.
I’d been too into being with Jax to have noticed that we’d somehow made our way to the Strip. I knew that it was where Jax lived. I wanted to accept that we were in a part of town that I’d always considered shady, unconditionally, but I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. It was hard to forget years of being told that the people on the Strip weren’t our kind, not to have retained some of that propaganda. The driver pulled up to the side of the street. He came around to our side of the car and was opening the door long before I could put much more thought into where we were. Jax was out first. He leaned forward, extending his hand toward me regally. I took it, smiling.
Snow had already gathered on the sidewalk, partially obscuring the trash that littered the streets. There was no sign of the pristine walkways and ancient trees that marked my part of town, just broken down condemned buildings, cracked concrete and graffiti. Neon signs with a few letters not illuminated, lit windows of what I knew was the entertainment district.
Jax took my hand in his, leading me forward and away from the safety of the limousine. I tried not to let him see how frightened I was. Once again the reality of how truly different we were, hit me hard. I wanted to be excited, to give Jax the chance to show me his world, but doubt played in my mind. I couldn’t stop my eyes darting around, searching for possible trouble. Lucky for me, Jax seemed too focused on his destination to realize my reservations.
We passed several bars in varying stages of disrepair. I wondered how they were still in operation. Unlike the streets of my neighborhood that would be deserted at 9:30 on a Thursday night, the place was teeming with people of every shape, size and color. Nobody even bothered to look at us, as if we were just part of the backdrop of the Strip. I was sure that if the roles were reversed and these people had dared to walk in my neighborhood, someone would surely have called the police and reported shifty types skulking down the streets.
Jax stopped in front of an ancient brick building that had a small patio, covered by
a dilapidated awning that had seen better days. The two picture windows that bordered the solid dark wooden door, had metal letters that spelled BAR attached to the front. A fading painted sign that said Live Bands, hung just above the door. I immediately understood where Jax was taking me. The wariness that I’d originally felt was instantly forgotten. The idea that I was actually going to see him perform on stage made all my reservations drop away
“I can’t believe that you’re doing this,” I said, squeezing his arm.
He winced as if I’d hurt him, but then his face rapidly broke into a wide smile. I knew that no matter where we were, with Jax at my side I was safe. He cocked the door wide and I slipped in front of him.
The place was loud from both piped in music and too many people. A cloud of cigarette smoke made the space hazy. The smell of yeasty beer and too much cologne and perfume filled the air. I’d been in bars before, but nothing like this. Those places had been trendy night clubs with techno music, colorful drinks and glittery girls and guys who had lots of cash, and who were looking to score something to make them high.
“You want a Coke or something?” Jax said, yelling over the music. I shook my head, almost too overwhelmed by it all to focus. Unlike me, Jax seemed right at home in the bar, waving at some people, nodding to others. It seemed like everybody knew him. And his gregarious nature had me wishing that I had a tenth of his ease in the midst of what seemed like chaos.
If I was being honest I was sure that Jax was the kind of guy who would have felt comfortable anywhere he went. I, on the other hand had tended to stick to familiar places and people, never really venturing out of my comfort zone.
Jax steered me to a table where a tiny elderly lady with curly blue-gray hair, sat grinning and nursing what looked like a soda. When she saw Jax she waved him forward. Not only was it odd to see an older woman in a place mostly frequented by the young, but it was even weirder that she seemed more at ease than I did. Before we reached the table, Jax released my hand and gave the woman a hug. She winked at me, patting the leather barstool next to her. Jax grabbed my hand and pulled me forward.
“Gran this is Marilee,” Jax said. He slipped his hand around my waist in a move that made me think that he was showing me off. I was secretly thrilled.
“Marilee this is Gran,” he said. He gazed down at me with a rapt expression. More than a little astonished that I was meeting his Gran for the first time in a bar, I extended my hand to her. She took it in both of hers, smiling in a way that made all the wrinkles in her face deepen. It had the effect of making her seem even more friendly than before.
“Nice to meet you Marilee. Jackson has told me so much about you,” she said. She somehow managed to make her voice louder than the background noise without yelling. She released her hold on me. I slid in next to her. Sitting so close, it was almost impossible not to smell her perfume. White Shoulders, clean and fresh, and a welcome break from the overpowering scent of the bar.
“Will you be okay with Gran? I have to get ready for my gig,” Jax said before I had a chance to respond to his Gran’s statement. I nodded, a little uncomfortable that he was leaving me so soon after we’d arrived.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Gran said, laying a protective hand over mine. Even though I didn’t know her, I already liked her. How could I not, she was a part of Jax.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, smiling. Jax hesitated for a second, but then seemed satisfied that I was okay. He moved through the sea of people in his path, to a stage that sat smack in the middle of the bar, and was surrounded by a scuffed hardwood dance floor. Two guys gave Jax high fives consecutively when he made it to them. One guy was as thin as a stick and quite goth looking, the other just the opposite, with a boy next door kind of appeal, a pudgy frame and a mass of blonde curls,
“That’s Max and Zeke,” Gran said. She pointed toward the stage. “They’ve been Jax’s buddies since back when we first moved to the Strip,” she said.
I nodded, remembering Jax mentioning Max and Zeke a few times before.
“How long have you lived on the Strip?” I asked.
Gran sighed. She brought her bespectacled gaze to mine. “We moved here about five years back, right after we sold the house,” she said. A reticent look passed across her face. “It was after…” She shrugged and looked back at Jax. “Well, I’ll let Jackson tell you the whole story.”
Her words served to fuel my curiosity. I immediately wanted to know everything about Jax. Like why they’d left their house and where his mother was now. But more than that I wanted to know about the scars on Jax’s arms. I didn’t want to keep going back to his track marks, but more times than I wanted to admit I’d wondered about what exactly they were. For me it was the only chink in Jax’s seeming perfection.
Every time I was reminded of their presence I tried to convince myself that no matter what they were, it wouldn’t change anything between us, but I wasn’t so sure that was true. I loved Jax, but I hated the idea that he might have once been into drugs. The kind of drugs that left track marks were the same kind that hooked people after a few hits, leaving demons of their presence.
“Jax says you can tell the future,” I said feeling that it was a safe topic to bring up. Gran crinkled her blue eyes, that reminded me so much of Jax’s. She shrugged.
“That I do.”
I was just about to ask her more about her fortune-telling since it was something I’d always been intrigued about, when Jax started to sing. Although his voice was as familiar as mine because I’d heard it practically everyday, it was like I was hearing him for the first time. Rising above the cacophony of people and the sound of chairs scraping against wood, Jax’s voice was clear and melodic. The huskiness that was ever present when he talked, had turned to crushed velvet that seemed to wrap me in its embrace. I stared at him on the stage that seemed too small to contain his presence. With his microphone in his hand he was lost in the song. It seemed nothing existed but the sound of the drums and guitar that backed him.
He started the set with a familiar top forty tune that I knew. I was embarrassed to admit that he was much better than I’d have given him credit for. From the way he moved on the stage, as liquid as a panther, or the way he seemed to make love to the microphone in a sexy way, it was like he was hard-wired to perform. I could have easily pictured him in a sold out stadium filled with adoring fans. Just the concept of it sent a shiver through me.
I felt a hand on mine and startled. I’d all but forgotten that Jax’s Gran was sitting at the table. She smiled at me, in a way that said that there was nothing in the world that she loved as much as her grandson. The transparency of her emotions made my heart skip a beat because I understood how she felt. Jax seemed to get under your skin without you knowing when or how it had happened.
That’s the way it had been for me, where one day he was an attractive and mysterious cleaner, and the next day he was someone I couldn’t bear to be apart from. I smiled at her. She brought her focus back to Jax.
Sipping a Coke I watched Jax go from heartfelt ballads to songs that had people crowding the too small dance floor. I didn’t want it to stop because every song that passed through his lips seemed as if it was written for him.
After they’d played for a little over an hour Jax said. “This song is for Marilee.”
I felt a blush work its way up my neck and to my cheeks. I glanced over at Jax’s Gran. Her expression seemed to indicate that it was all part of the plan.
I stared back at Jax who had somehow, despite the multitude of people, managed to lock eyes with me. The music began seconds later and he started to sing. Unlike the songs he’d sung up until that moment this one was different. Radiohead was one of Jax’s favorite bands. I hadn’t known the band, but Jax had educated me on who they were a while back. From the songs I’d heard, they had a very unique sound. Now the riff for his all time favorite Radiohead song Creep, filled the room. It made every part of me tingle.
Jax had played the song
for me before, but now it was so different and somehow took on a whole new meaning. I might have imagined it, but it seemed as soon as he began to sing, the whole bar went a little quieter.
In that moment in the overheated space it was as if it was just Jax and me, and he was singing to me alone. I wanted to rush the minute-sized stage like a crazed groupie and kiss him until my lips went numb.
“You're just like an angel, your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather,
in a beautiful world, I wish I was special…” he sang, never taking his eyes off me. Tears filled my eyes because it was as if the song had been written just for me, for us. The words that Jax was singing to me described all the feelings I had toward him.
Because more times than I wanted to admit I felt like a freak. I wanted to be perfect but I knew I wasn’t. Yet he still loved me as I was.
Jax’s voice rose to a crescendo and seemed to wash over my body, bathing me in his love and acceptance. And not for the first time I saw the silver lining in the huge black cloud of my cancer, and that without it I would never have met Jax. Sooner than I wanted the song was over. Jax placed his mic in the stand. The sound of pre-recorded music, signaled the set was over.
Jax, his smile brilliant enough to light up the room on its own, strode toward me. His hair was damp and his face glistened with sweat. As I’d thought so many times before I couldn’t help but think that he looked like a dark angel that had dropped from the sky. As he made his way toward me random strangers high-fived him, giving him pats on his back. It seemed to take too long before he got to me. Unable to wait, I practically jumped out of my chair, closing the remaining distance between us.
When I reached him I threw my arms around his neck and covered his mouth with mine. Jax responded enthusiastically, our lips moving as one. A few times I remembered that his Gran was sitting at the table right behind us, but it wasn’t enough of a deterrent to make me stop. Heat seemed to cascade from Jax’s body and he tasted of salt and soda. I couldn’t remember a more perfect moment in my entire life. There in Jax’s arms everything seemed possible. I knew that soon the real world would come back. I would have to face that I still had a long and winding road to recovery, but that wasn’t now, and now was all that mattered.
Tattoos: A Novel Page 16