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

by Kirsty Dallas

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” My hand clamped over my mouth and Jax grabbed me, pulling me to a small downstairs bathroom where he held my hair back as I emptied my breakfast into the toilet. When there was nothing left to offer the porcelain throne I sat quietly still, my mind trying to comprehend exactly how I felt. Dejected, guilty, glad and indifferent, how could I possibly feel so many different confusing emotions at once? Surely I was either one or the other? Jax wet a washer and wiped my face.

  “I’m so sorry angel,” he said as he wiped my forehead. The sensation of the cool washer on my hot skin was a balm to my senses. I leaned into the coolness wanting more before I remembered I had just thrown up and now sat on the floor of the bathroom with Jax mere inches away.

  “I need to brush my teeth, I need a shower.”

  Jax scooped me up into his arms with ease and climbed the stairs to the large upstairs bathroom. He placed me on the counter while he started the shower then turned to help me undress. Once I was under the steaming hot water I closed my eyes, shutting out the world as I let my body deal with the stress. I felt Jax behind me as he carefully washed my hair, massaging my scalp for the longest time before washing the soap free. Then he proceeded to methodically clean my body. It was intimate even though it wasn’t sexual. After he was done, he wrapped me in a clean towel and dried off my hair, then tucked me into his bed, wrapping his body around me like a protective cocoon. No words were spoken, Jax patiently let me absorb the news, process it and deal with it the only way I knew how, without tears, numb from the inside out. After what felt like hours I finally found my voice, though it was low and strained.

  “She died because of me, because I left, that’s why he hurt her.” Jax tensed beside me and although we were skin to skin, every inch of our bodies touching he somehow managed to pull me closer.

  “No baby you can’t think that way. That’s how Marcus would want you to think. Your mom knew what he was like, she made that bed she needed to damn well lie in it. Anyway, if you had of stayed who’s to say he wouldn’t have killed you then moved on to your mother anyway?” I didn’t want to think anymore, I didn’t want to feel and somehow I forced my body to shut down as I sank into a blissful abyss of darkness.

  Chapter 34

  Jax

  I wanted Ella to cry, to scream, to rage. She was more than entitled. Marcus Fairmont had yet again marked her world with violence and hate and he did it on a day that was sacred to her. But not a single tear fell. My tears are for kindness, not pain, not hate, not fear, her words echoed through my mind. As I held her in my arms, her body still radiating warmth from the hot shower, her hair still damp, she was utterly still and excruciatingly silent. Eventually her breathing evened out and I knew she had fallen asleep. The fact that she felt guilt for what happened to her mother crushed me. I refused to allow her to feel the guilt that rightly lay at the feet of Marcus and somewhat her mother too. She had to have known the abuse that Ella endured and yet she did nothing, as long as she was happy in her own little bubble, nothing else mattered. I hated her for that but I certainly didn’t wish her abuse and death for it, much like I’m sure Ella would be feeling. Ella’s heartbeat was a steady rhythm against my chest and I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, listening to the soft whisper of air that escaped her slightly parted lips and eventually I fell asleep too. I woke much later to the feel of a gentle hand tracing a small scar on my shoulder.

  “Shrapnel,” I murmured, my voice gravelly from sleep. Ella pushed up onto one arm and began a careful inspection of my body, finding my scars, not that there were that many. “Nail gun,” I said as she traced the small round scar on the back of my hand. “Motor bike,” I groaned as my body began to respond to her delicate touch, her fingers lingering over a large scar on my knee. Ella nudged my side and I rolled over as she began to inspect my back. “Bullet ricochet,” I murmured as she took in the large round scar that marked my right shoulder blade. It was hard to make out as it was partially covered by my tattoo. Her sharp intake of breath was the only acknowledgement as her fingers continued to caress my body. She would find no more. That was the history of Jax Carter’s physical pain. Other than a couple of broken bones, my body had not been through the same violence that hers, which seemed completely unfair since my body was so much larger, so much stronger. If I could have endured her beatings and taken that agony for her I would have.

  “What is your favorite color?” Her sudden and unexpected question caught me by surprise, my mind was hazy with lust and it took me a moment to answer.

  “White, like the snow,” I murmured, enjoying her fingers as they traced my tattoo.

  “Your favorite movie?”

  “Clerks. Charlie and I can just about quote every line in that movie, it’s scary.”

  “If you could be a superhero which one would you be?” I couldn’t stop the laughter that racked my body. This line of questioning was pretty damn cute. I rolled over and grabbed her waist to hold her above me, straddling me completely naked. Damn she was a sight to behold.

  “Batman, he’s just your everyday Joe with a cool suit and wicked toys.” I said a little breathlessly and Ella smiled.

  “I would like to see you dressed in a Batman costume.” She blushed.

  “So would Eli.” I folded my hands behind my head, allowing her to continue touching me, exploring my body which was responding appropriately.

  “Favorite song?” She continued with the questions.

  “Dust in the wind, by Kansas.” She was biting her bottom lip, no doubt trying to think of her next question and she looked so darn sexy I could no longer keep my hands to myself. I grabbed her thighs and rubbed my hands slowly up them.

  “Since we are playing twenty questions it must be my turn. You’re favorite color?”

  “Blue, like the ocean.” Her voice was a breath of longing and I knew my touch was affecting her in the same way her touch had affected me.

  “If you could go anywhere else in the world, where would it be?”

  “Hawaii, to see the ocean and sit in the warm sand,” she smiled.

  “Hmmmm, I’m beginning to see a pattern here.” My hands had reached her waist and I wrapped them around her, marveling that I could just about encompass her body with my hands.

  “And what does Ella Munroe see for her future?” I bravely asked, knowing her future was not something she thought about. Her eyes that had been watching my hands snapped up to meet mine. It was a long time before she answered.

  “A gallery, filled with art, some mine, some others, perhaps a coffee shop attached to it, because I love coffee.” Her face was filled with longing. “And I see my blonde haired, much too tall warrior wooing me with flowers, picnics under the stars, serenading me with music because he plays the guitar when he isn’t smashing it to pieces.” I knew my grin was one of those shit eating, smug, arrogant ones, but I couldn’t help the satisfaction that floored my heart at her words. My hands slipped up the smooth skin of her stomach and cupped her breasts. They fit perfectly right into my hands, they were flawless, she was flawless. Ella moaned before slowly moving out of my reach.

  “Where are you going angel?” I groaned. The seductive play in her eyes excited me as she moved down my body and kneeled over my dick. Then, with an excruciating long slow lick, she followed the vein from base to tip. It took every ounce of self-preservation not to blow at that second. The sight of this angel before me, worshipping me in such a way was enough to make my brain cells fry. As she took me in her mouth I thought of anything except the sight and feel of Ella consuming me otherwise it would not last more than five seconds. Ice hockey, basketball, the miserable hot fucking desert, oh shit, I groaned as she took me deep. Her eyes watched me with pure female contentment. When I knew I could not go a second more without coming I hooked my hands under her arms and dragged her up my body. I pulled her to my lips and kissed her like a starved man. I needed to be in her this instant. Grabbing a condom from the drawer I growled about hav
ing to stop the pleasure for even the five seconds it took me to don the rubber. Once covered I lifted her hips to my cock and allowed her to slowly, torturously sink onto me. She rode me leisurely, her back arched, her beautiful long hair cascading down her back, brushing against my thighs. I needed to be closer so I sat forward, wrapping one arm around her, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck while she road me into fucking oblivion.

  Later that night as I defrosted another of Mary’s miracle frozen dinners, Ella phoned Annie and Eli, then Rebecca, which led to our first argument.

  “You’re not going to work on Tuesday,” I said matter-of-factly. I knew I sounded like an ass, but there was no way I was letting her out of my sight.

  “You will know if Marcus leaves Duntson and it’s a sixteen hour drive at best if he does. I’m sure you can get from Mercy’s to Bouquets in that time,” she argued.

  “What if he gets on a flight? He can be here in less than two hours!” I tried hard not to raise my voice, knowing she would flinch at any sign of hostility.

  “You can get to Bouquets in like five minutes Jax. You know it won’t be a problem.” Her calm attitude was beginning to piss me off and freak me out.

  “What about Brennan?” I asked incredulously and she shrugged.

  “He’s a police officer, he’s not going to haul me out of work in the middle of the day for no reason, it’s too public. Anyway, Rebecca would eat him for breakfast if he tried.” I didn’t want to admit that she had a point.

  “You’re having one of those moments of irrational and foolish thoughts that men are prone too, you’re being a domineering asshat Jax.” I looked at her as she flicked through a magazine on my kitchen table, absorbing every page as if it held the answers to every question she had ever had. I knew she wasn’t really reading it. It was a trade guide for fucks sake.

  “Did you just call me a domineering asshat?”

  “I did. I also mentioned irrational and foolish.” She glanced up at me from under her thick lashes. I could see the insecurity in her gaze. She wasn’t used to speaking to men in this way and even though she trusted me, an instinctive part of her was expecting rage, perhaps violence. I grinned and shook my head. She had a smart mouth when she wanted to and I loved it.

  “Well, this domineering asshat was watching a man wrap his fingers around your throat only a night ago. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet.” She sighed, her gaze moving back to the magazine.

  “I think I have a Building & Construction Magazine around here somewhere once you’re done with the traders guide,” I chuckled. She smiled as she finally took note of what she was reading and threw the magazine across the table. She got up and strode right for me, her arms wrapping around my neck. I lifted her easily so our eyes were at the same height.

  “I don’t want to hide away anymore Jax. You can even drop me off and pick me up. You’ve shown me how I should be living my life without fear. I refuse to let Marcus control me any longer.” I looked into her beautiful brown eyes that I could no more refuse then stop the sun from shining.

  “So you’re saying this new found lease on life is my fault?” I grumbled. She nodded.

  “Most definitely, but it’s a good thing. Otherwise I’d be five hundred miles from here by now and you’d be lonely and horny.” Laughter rumbled from deep in my chest and I kissed her nose before placing her feet back on the ground.

  “Okay but there are rules. You won’t go out for breaks, if I’m so much as five minutes late you will wait inside the store, you will carry your phone on you fully charged at all times.” I shook my finger at her like my mother used to. I remember being intimidated by that finger, but Ella just laughed and nodded. Fuck, I’d created a monster.

  Chapter 35

  Ella

  Over the next week I followed Jax’s rules to the letter. It had seemed as though Rebecca had joined on team Carter and wouldn’t allow me to step out of line even once. She had the shortened version of what was going on in my life. Jax thought it was important she knew, for my safety and hers. If she decided she didn’t want a bar of it then I would help Jax at Mercy’s. But of course Rebecca puffed out her chest and showed me her little fist. “Any man so much as lays a finger on you and I will break the bastard in half,” she growled like a protective momma bear. I had to beg her to take me to her doctor during one of our lunch breaks. I was eager to get myself on the pill. Since my body had discovered the joy of real, heartfelt, passionate sex I wanted it every spare second and condoms were somewhat of an inconvenience when it came to spontaneity. She had taken me straight there, watching over her back nervously then directly back to the safety of Bouquets when we were done. I hated that she felt she had to watch her back, that she was so anxious. I had brought this unease into her life but Rebecca wouldn’t allow me to feel guilty for even a moment. She even went as far as to throw a bunch of Gerbera’s at me when I approached the subject of guilt, telling me to suck it up and stop being such a little girl.

  During the day Mercy and Charlie would drop in to Bouquets unannounced, most likely to make sure I hadn’t broken Jax’s rules and left the store alone. Each morning Jax dropped me to the door and he was there to greet me at five. Somehow I seemed to have moved in with Jax. We had taken the suitcase of clothes that Rebecca had given to me and Jax had made room in his wardrobe for them. It was weird putting my clothes away. They usually only left my backpack to be put on my body or washed. I noted two sealed clothes bags in the back of Jax’s wardrobe and curiosity got the better of me. I zipped open the first and found a formal military uniform, pressed crisp and clean. I ran my fingers reverently over the collar and imagined Jax dressed tall and proud in it. I closed the zip and moved to the second bag. In this one I found a sharp expensive looking black suit. I guess this is what he wore to functions like the Thanksgiving Ball and that he was most likely going to wear it last week when he was supposed to take Selena. I found myself wondering how many times she had seen him in it, held onto his arm as he guided her into an elegant restaurant or ball. They would look perfect together, beautiful. Had she stripped it from his body in moments of passion? Jealousy was not an emotion that sat well with me. I was completely unfamiliar with it, ill-equipped for dealing with it.

  “What are you thinking?” Asked Jax, standing at the doorway and I sighed.

  “This looks like something Bruce Wayne would wear. Are you sure you don’t have a batman suit back here somewhere?” I teased. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck. The first time he had attempted to approach me from behind like this, in the basement at Mercy’s Shelter I had lost it, panic had consumed me. Now I didn’t even flinch. How had I come so far so quickly? The answer was easy, Jax had made it so.

  “You won’t find it in here, I keep it in the bat cave,” he chuckled. “Do you like it?” He wondered. I did, but I hated that it represented a life I was not a part of. “It’s new. I bought it a few months ago when I thought I might be going to the Thanksgiving Ball and we all know how that ended. Perhaps you will allow me to buy you a dress and take you somewhere special one day, seems a shame to be wasted in a bag for all eternity.” My eyes fluttered closed as he continued to kiss my neck but unease still crept into my thoughts.

  “I’m not really a dress kind of girl,” I whispered, wondering if that’s what he wanted in a woman.

  “You can wear jeans and t-shirt for all I care, hell, you can go naked and we’ll just laze around the house. I’ll be all dressed up like Bruce Wayne and you in your birthday suit. Actually, I like that thought more than any pretentious restaurant or Ball.” His hands began to flick open the buttons on my jeans and at that moment a loud nock at the front door broke the growing desire and I jumped.

  “Easy angel, Dillon texted me an hour ago, he drove through the night, it’s most likely just him.” I tried to relax, but truth be told I was a little nervous about meeting Jax’s ex-military friend Dillon Montgomery, the man who had over the past few weeks come to know
all my secrets in all their gory detail. I followed Jax down the stairs from his loft, but stood glued to the bottom step, consciously noting I had three exits from the room, front door, back door and stairs. I shook my head, annoyed that I would be thinking like this. Dillon was Jax’s friend, Jax trusted him more than any other, he had been working tirelessly to bring down Marcus, to free me and we had never even met. Jax peeked out the corner of the blinds and smiled as he opened the door.

  “Been too long soldier,” Jax laughed, embracing Dillon like a long lost brother.

  “Sarge,” Dillon chuckled. “Since when did you start doing cuddles?” Jax pushed him away and stepped aside so Dillon could enter. He was tall, almost as tall as Jax, but not as muscular. He was lean and toned, his hair cropped army style short, whereas Jax had let his grow into a messy violation of military code. He wore a black jacket over black cargo pants, with shiny black army boots. He looked dangerous and deadly and I couldn’t help but take a small step away. Jax of course noticed and moved to my side, wrapping his big protective arm around me.

  “Dillon, this is Ella Munroe, Angel, this is Dillon.” Dillon smiled and nodded. His eyes were full of understanding and compassion, no anger, no violence.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you sweetheart,” he said easily. And here, now, under the kind thoughtful gaze of this stranger my eyes grew watery and a lone tear dropped from my lashes and down my cheek.

  “Thank you,” I said when no other words would come. My senseless, inane tears that were spared only for kindness felt like a weighted weakness in my chest.