Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3)

by Kirsty Dallas

  Rest now sweet Sarah in contented silence with no more yesterday’s or tomorrow’s to trouble you. Now is a time to forgive life and be at peace.

  I sat for the longest time reading and re-reading the quote, wondering who Sarah was. How did she die and why was the plaque here, in a bathroom of all places? Eventually, I moved out of the small bleach filled room and found myself descending the stairs to the basement. The punching bag hung innocuously in the center of the room. A pair of training gloves sat on a bench and I thumbed them nervously. They were going to be a little big, but I slipped them on anyway, a small part of me reveling in the fact that they belonged to Jax. Approaching the bag nervously, I gave it a small nudge. Then I fell into the stance Jax had shown me and gently began tapping the bag. After a while, I packed a little more force behind my punches, imagining this was Marcus's body I was attacking, slamming my fist into him as he had slammed his fists into me. Strangely it didn't bring me the contentment I hoped it would. Sweat fell from my brow, my hair clung to my skin, and I pulled off my t-shirt and long sleeved thermal, leaving me in a sports bra and cargos. I swept my hair into a messy knot on my head, slipped the gloves back on and resumed my relentless attack on the inoffensive punching bag, releasing all the energy and rage that had been building inside. Finally, my arms gave out aching with fatigue, and I leaned against the bag, allowing the cool touch of the canvas to seep into my skin.

  “You’re a natural.” Jax’s voice startled me and I spun around to face him. He was standing at the bottom of the staircase, watching me carefully. Somehow I stopped myself from wrapping my arms around the bare skin of my stomach, but his eyes didn’t stray below my face and for some reason I was disappointed. Why would he want to look at my body? I was just a scarred, broken, used girl that no real man would ever want.

  “I’ve spoken to an old friend who was in the forces with me. He works security now and is going to look into Marcus for us. He’ll be discreet. You have nothing to worry about, he won’t slip up. Hopefully it won’t take more than a week or two to find out where Marcus is and if he’s still trying to find you.”

  I had no idea how anyone could find out such information, but I didn't question it. I would put my trust in Jax. If he said he could do this and keep me safe, then perhaps he could. Right now, with dreams beginning to form and take shape in my life, I needed to believe he could.

  “Do you feel up to working on those triggers and breathing techniques I told you about?” The night before had been rough and the day not much better, I wasn’t sure if I was up to it but for some reason I didn’t want to disappoint Jax, so I nodded. He walked cautiously forward, his eyes on mine, ignoring my scars and my body. Perhaps he found my scars as ugly as I did. "I want to know how you're handling the fear today. You will be facing away from me, so I won't be able see your face. We'll use a number system, okay?" I nodded as he stood to face me.

  “One is perfectly fine, ten is shit has hit the fan.” A small grin tugged one corner of his mouth and I managed a small smile in return. He motioned with his hand for me to turn around and reluctantly I did. My eyes were closed and my back prickled with awareness waiting for his heat to whisper across my skin. My body was tense with nervous anticipation.

  "What number angel?" I thought about it for a moment. I was fine, a little nervous, but a long way off a panic attack.

  “Three.”

  "Okay. A panic attack is a reaction to fear, so recognizing it and managing it is your first step. I'm going to touch you now angel." As promised, his hand rested on my shoulder. My heart stuttered, curiously though it wasn't with fear, it was with something else entirely that pulsed from his touch right through to the junction between my thighs. Then his other hand was gently rested on my other shoulder. Still no fear but perhaps something akin to desire caused my nipples to harden. Oh God, I hoped he didn't notice.

  “Angel, number,” Jax murmured.

  “Um, four, maybe?” Jax then stepped in closer and I could feel the length of him down my back, his body was rigid and swamped with a delicious heat that soaked into my skin. I felt his breath on my neck then ever so slowly his arms wrapped around my shoulders and chest, holding me close. And there was the panic, floating through my body like an ugly spirit. My breath sped up, and I fought the inevitable attack.

  “Control your breathing, long deep breaths you’re going to count it. You breathe in for five through your nose and then out for five through your mouth.” I obeyed, counting a little too quick but counting never-the-less. “Now I want you to curl your toes and squeeze the muscles in your feet, count to five then relax, then do the same with your legs, thighs, stomach, all the way up to your eyes.” I did so while Jax continued to hold me close, still taking breaths that were too shallow and quick through my nose and out through my mouth. After a few minutes Jax finally spoke.

  “Number?” It took me a moment to realize what he was asking. I tried to answer, my mouth opened and shut several times. Number? I couldn’t think past ‘stay conscious’.

  "Angel, it's me and you know I won't hurt you. He's not here with you anymore, and he hasn't been for a long time. Think about that, think of where you are." I did. I thought about Mercy's shelter; I thought about my bed upstairs, my backpack stashed safely under it, Mary most likely in the kitchen and Eli demanding attention from anyone who would glance his way. "Breathe with me angel, in through your nose, one, two, three, four, five, now out through your mouth, one, two, three, four, five." My breathing began to even out as I followed Jax’s lead, breathing with him, listening to his voice, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest at my back.

  “You’re doing great angel,” Jax whispered encouragement in my ear, his lips close. I melted under his praise. "You're going to let go of this fear. I'm going to help you beat it, beat him." It was a promise, and it was the best promise anyone could have ever offered me.

  Chapter 15

  Jax

  If I didn't let go of Ella soon, I was going to embarrass myself. My hardened member was pounding against the zipper of my jeans, begging to be released. Well, he was just going to have to calm the fuck down, because until I was home in the privacy of my own bedroom, or bathroom - maybe I'd relent and give in to his demands in the truck - but until then, he was going to remain safely behind the layer of denim. I was trying hard to keep the lower half of my body away from Ella. All she needed while I was helping her prevent a panic attack was my dick shoved in her back. I learned a long time ago that this particular part of my anatomy functioned quite well without the use of a brain, and right now it was only emphasizing that fact. Ella thankfully moved away, slipping off the gloves that were way too big and quickly shucking her thermal and shirt back on. Her scars bothered me. They weren't ugly, they didn't diminish the fact she was beautiful, but they represented a pain she should never have had to endure. I wanted to kiss every one and make it all better for her.

  “Who’s Sarah?” The name startled me. I blinked, once, twice, my brain wrapping itself around her question. How did she know that name? “There’s a small plaque in one of the bathrooms.” Of course, dumb shit. I’d arranged the damn thing.

  “She was a girl who came to Mercy’s for help.” Just the mention of her name caused me to sweat, my body to tense. No matter how long I talked to Dave about this, it was obviously something I would never entirely move past. My eyes avoided Ella’s. She saw too much when she looked into them.

  “Why is the plaque in the bathroom?”

  “That is where she died, she committed suicide. It’s small, out of the way. Most people don’t notice it.” Ella nodded.

  "I cleaned in there today. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have seen it. It's personal, she meant something to you." I knew what she was thinking.

  "Not in the way that you think. Yes, I cared for her, professionally and I let her down. I didn't see her pain for what it truly was, I wasn’t able to save her.”

  "That's what your tattoo represents isn't it. At first I thought i
t referred to the war and you being a soldier, but it's not about that at all. It's about Sarah. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death, or sorrow, or crying, or pain,' it's for Sarah right?" My nod was restrained.

  “Am I a project for you Jax? Are you trying to find repentance in me? Because you won’t find it here, you won’t find it anywhere Jax because you don’t need forgiveness, you did nothing wrong.” I shook my head slowly.

  "First of all you are not a project for me. I want to protect you because I like you, in the famous words of my best friend Charlie, I like like you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy, and some primitive part of me wants to be the one who brings you that. Fuck knows if I want forgiveness for Sarah, my mind is all kinds of fucked up over that and a whole truckload of other shit. Dave has done his best to help me work through it, but maybe it's something only I can work through, on my own."

  She stood before me, her eyes searching mine, her brow furrowed looking perfectly beautiful and angelic. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "I care about you, probably too much and in a completely unprofessional way. I want you so bad, and it's unfair to you. I've been unprofessional with you angel. I want you to be safe; I want you to have a future, here, in Claymont and I want to be a part of it. I'm a selfish son-of-bitch for wanting that but I can't seem to fucking help it." She just kept on staring at me, shocked to her core no doubt, perhaps even repulsed and more than a little freaked out.

  “You want me?” She said a little dumbstruck.

  "Yes angel, I want you. You're beautiful, sexy, smart, funny and strong. I've never wanted anyone quite the way I want you." Yep, she was stunned into silence. We stood and stared at each other for what felt like fucking hours. Finally, she looked down at her arms.

  “This doesn’t repulse you, the things I’ve done, that doesn’t bother you?” She asked, bewildered. What the fuck? She thought I was repulsed by her scars? Her past? I stepped forward, but stopped short of touching her.

  "There isn't a damn thing about you that repulses me. I adore every inch of you, scars, nightmares, demons and all." She shook her head and slowly a smile crept across her features. "I would prefer you lived in a nice, big, warm, cozy house, but not because I pity you or am embarrassed by your living arrangements. I want you to have things, nice things. I want you to be warm and safe." She sighed and shook her head in what appeared like disbelief, like it was so implausible that someone might care about her or think of her as beautiful and sexy.

  "Well then, you might be happy to know that I am moving in with Annie and Eli on Sunday." It was now my turn to stare. I knew my smile had dropped, and Ella looked suddenly nervous and worried.

  "That's a good thing, Angel. If I seem disappointed, it's only because I've gotten used to you being here, near me." She still looked nervous. “Don’t worry, I’ll be dropping by regularly to check on the three of you and I hope you want to drop in here to check on me occasionally. You know, make sure I’m eating my Wheaties and still lording it over the laundry domain and all.” Ella laughed.

  “You eat Wheaties?” I chuckled and shook my head.

  “Never.”

  “Maybe I’ll drop by and make sure you’re not threatening the health of the girls here by attempting to cook.”

  "Very little chance of that, Mary would slice my fingers off if I tried to mess with her kitchen. Since I have this incapacity to cook, and I tend to eat out a lot, maybe I will ask you to join me sometime, for dinner?" Fuck, did my brain and mouth even work together? Ella looked a little taken aback, but finally she composed herself as she walked towards the staircase.

  “As in a date?” She asked suspiciously. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

  “I guess me asking you out to dinner, just the two of us would fall under the premise of a date. But if you think you might say no I might revise the invitation and make it breakfast or lunch, that’s less date like.”

  “I’ve never been on a date before.”

  “Is that a yes?” She left me hanging for the longest time. I’d never been turned down by a woman before and if this particular one said no I think I might just turn celibate and give up women altogether.

  “Maybe.” Her smile was a little seductive as she looked back over her shoulder at me and slowly climbed the stairs out of the basement. Holy shit, I had just asked her on a date, and she had said yes. Well, maybe, but that was good enough for me. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the dimly lit basement. I wanted to dance a little, perhaps strut a quick M.J Moonwalk across the grubby floor. Since when did I get all goofy over a date? I guess since meeting Ella.

  ***

  The next week crept by far too slowly. I didn't see much of Ella, not more than a quick hello in the morning and occasionally a goodbye in the afternoon if she made it back to the shelter before I left. Carter Constructions was pretty busy. With the holiday's approaching everyone wanted everything finished yesterday and Charlie was working a sixty hour week just to keep on top of things, which might accounted for his craptastic mood of late. I found myself leaving Mercy's to put in another four hours at my own office. Moving day for Annie, Eli and Ella came and went in a flurry of action. Between Dave, Blue, Charlie and me, we got all the furniture and boxes up into Annie's apartment in a couple of hours. They didn't have much. Dave and I managed to track down some goodwill furniture and between all of us we were able to find plenty of people willing to donate necessities, like plates, dishes, and cutlery. Charlie was most impressed with Ella and little spitfire gave him just as much grief as he gave her. Charlie liked to torment, he prided himself on it. In fact, I wondered if he had attended a school I didn't know about in torment, mockery, and practical jokes. But Ella handled him like a pro, and she had Charlie practically eating out of the palm of her hand. I lost count of how many times I needed to give him a 'back-the-fuck off' look before he finally dragged my lovesick ass down the stairs as the sun finally disappeared for the day.

  Now, it was Wednesday, and I hadn't seen Ella for three days. I was pissed off as I beat the shit out of the bag in the basement trying to blow off steam, wishing like fuck that Ella was here. The unforgiving beep of my phone caught my attention, and I glanced at it sitting on the table behind me curious who the message was from. It was a number that I didn’t recognize. I pulled off my gloves and checked the message.

  Hi

  I stared at the innocuous word for a moment wondering who the hell it was from before finally sending a quick message back.

  Hi, who's this?

  The next message came back quick.

  Angel

  And just like that I was grinning like an idiot.

  Angel! Saving ur number now. Are u ok?

  I’m fine. I wasn’t sure about txting protocol, but just wanted to say hi.

  Txting protocol requires no less than 2 txts a day. Ur behind ;-)

  Hmmmm, then so r u

  But I didn’t have ur number, otherwise I would have blown up your phone with messages by now. U free tomorrow night?

  Yes, why?

  Movie?

  Ok

  I’ll pick u up, 6pm? Dinner first at Pit Stop? My shout cause I’m inviting. That’s the dating protocol.

  Ok, but I get to choose the movie. That’s dating protocol too, so I’ve heard…

  I'd watch a five-hour operetta if it meant hanging out with Ella. She could choose whatever the hell she wanted.

  Deal. See u tomorrow angel X

  My pissed off mood vanished, just like that, and thoughts of Ella consumed my mind.

  Tomorrow night couldn't come quick enough, and when it finally did, I raced home from Mercy's and showered and dressed in ten minutes flat before returning back to town. I was standing on the doorstep of Annie and Eli's apartment at five minutes to six. The door opened before I even had a chance to knock and Eli pummeled into me. I grabbed him and swung him over my shoulder firefighter style.

  “Totally uncool little man. What if it h
ad of been Megatron at your door? You'd be captured, and I'd have to dig out my damn cape to rescue you and I have no idea where it is right now." Eli giggled out loud as I deposited him on the couch. Annie appeared from down the small narrow hallway, still in her uniform from Danny's Diner. "Hi Annie, you look tired." She nodded, and I suddenly felt like an impolite prick for pointing out the obvious. "But you look happy too. You look good, apart from the big dark rings under your eyes, but otherwise perfect. And the dark rings are barely noticeable." Annie burst out laughing.

  "Smooth Casanova," she teased. "I've worked every day this week, and I'm working the next two nights. I'm beat. Ella has been a God send. I don't know how I would do this without her here. She was even able to get off work early to pick Eli up from school today and Rebecca let Eli hang out at Bouquets. Apparently my boy is very good with roses."

  “I helped Ella cut the thorns off!” Eli said proudly.

  “Good stuff little man. Did you bring a flower home for your mom?” Eli looked a little guilty and shook his head.

  “I’m sure if you ask Rebecca nicely she will let you bring one home.” He jumped up and ran to Annie, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Maybe next time mom, but only if you’re good,” he giggled.

  The apartment looked great. It looked lived in, like a real family’s apartment should look. Ella’s backpack sat neatly beside the couch, apart from that you wouldn’t have even known she was living there.

  “Where’s Ella?” I asked just as she appeared in the hallway and nervously entered the small living room. I was reduced to a speechless chump within seconds. She wore a pair of jeans that hugged her body like a second skin. An equally tight fitting long sleeved top in a radiant shade of red, scalloped at the neckline and giving a teasing glimpse of the swell of her breasts. Her long hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She looked stunning, glowing, a far turn from the tired looking angel who had slipped across the shelter’s doorway over two weeks ago.