Always Angel (The List #4)

by N. K. Love

  “You’re wrong, Beth.”

  “It’s funny how I can still draw strength from you even though you’re only on the phone. My head feels clearer than it has in a while. Instead of frantically, running thoughts around the maze in my head, I can actually speak my mind aloud. Anyway, I don’t think I’m wrong. Jax, I have so many question marks hanging over our heads right now, I’m struggling to keep up with them. What if I stick with you and you lose interest? What if you change? Now that you’re out of the Unit, what if you decide to uproot and start anew somewhere else?”

  “None of that’s gonna happen, Beth.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Okay, if that’s the case, neither do you. Don’t you think I’ve considered similar things? I’ve been on a knife edge this past week. Waiting. It’s killing me not being able to come and bring you home.”

  “I am home.”

  I’m not going to lose her.

  “Beth, tell me what you want.”

  “Look,” I hear her moving and then the sound of a sliding door shutting. “I’m just going to say this. I’m finding this difficult, Jax. I can’t do it. I can’t think, work, eat, sleep, live…be happy… I can’t do any of it without thinking about you. I can’t be, without you.”

  “Then why—”

  “Hold on. I haven’t finished… The bigger picture is, I also cannot accept that you’re planning on murdering somebody.” She whispers the last part, barely able to say the word, let alone accept it. “Even if I put aside my considerations about whether or not I believe the guy deserves it, what if it changes you? You can’t tell me that it won’t, because you simply don’t know.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Argh! You want me to accept everything and continue as though nothing is wrong, and then what? One day you will leave the house and come home a murderer—that’s if you come home at all. What kind of a future is that for us, Jax?” The softness of her voice crackles with emotion. She clears her throat to shun away the tears I know are there. “I cannot see how this scenario will ever end in happiness, no matter which way it plays out.”

  “Angel, please don’t get upset. This isn’t something that I can give up on and forget about.”

  “Why not?” She blurts out.

  “Because… I made a promise to Chloe and I vowed this on my life. It’s part of me, B. My word means everything and I’ve had this planned since the second she died in my arms—”

  “What if I said that you have to decide between your vendetta or me?”

  “Beth, don’t give me an ultimatum.”

  “Why? Because I will lose?”

  “Because we both will.”

  I know that hurts her as much to hear as it does for me to say.

  “So, basically I either accept it and we’ll be together, or don’t and we won’t.” She’s not asking me. I know she’s simply airing her conclusions so I remain silent. “Jax, I’d better go.”

  I sigh deeply, disappointed that it feels like we’ve exhausted this conversation. “Okay. Can I call you tomorrow, same time?”

  “I guess so. Goodnight.”

  She sounds so dejected, echoing my feelings precisely.

  “Goodnight, Angel.”

  Am I fighting a losing battle here?

  I’m not giving up.

  Chapter Four

  Thursday 14th May 2015

  11:30am

  “Well, if I can’t change your mind, I’d like to wish you every success, Mr Carter. It was great having you on board. Thank you, and good luck in your new ventures.”

  “Thank you, Derek. I trust that Mr Briggs will be a fitting replacement. Thank you for your continued discretion. All the very best.”

  Okay. That’s it. I’m no longer working for 24/7. It was only intended to be a stop gap anyway. I got too caught up. But, I’d be lying if I said I’m not going to miss it.

  It’ll be great for Craig, though. He’s a good guy. I called him this morning to see what he thought of the idea. After the initial shock, he jumped on board.

  Beth’s mentioned that she’s finding it hard to think straight with so many distractions around her that remind her of me. At least now she can go to the gym without fear of bumping into me.

  It crushed me to hear her say that she avoids the gym when she knows I’ll be there because she doesn’t want to see me. But, if I can make things easier for her at the moment, I will.

  I realise that the one thing she really needs, I can’t give her. She doesn’t understand and I can’t expect her to.

  So now what? No 24/7. No Unit. No family. No Beth.

  I’ve noticed the dark nights have been getting longer. I need to make sure I don’t let this change get the better of me. I realise that part of the reason for joining the 24/7 crew in the first place was because solitude doesn’t bode well with me.

  If I acknowledge the whispers of doubt in my head, I know that a small part of me is concerned that I may start taking steps backward. I don’t actually think I would ever turn back to drugs or drinking heavily again. But, like Beth says, you can never say never.

  On a positive note, I have been focusing a little more on Carter Corp. lately for some reason. On top of that, I’m looking to make an investment, but I’m not sure whether to go solo or to underpin it with the rest of the Carter Corp. umbrella. I pinged an email over to my brother to get his thoughts on the matter. I know that kind of contact took him by surprise. My emails are usually formal business spiel or monosyllabic, never personal.

  What’s driving my momentum today is the thought of seeing Beth. I’ve decided to surprise her with a visit tonight. We’ve been speaking well and things aren’t awkward. But her decision is hanging over us and I need to tackle it head on.

  I can’t bear not seeing her. It’s been almost ten days already. Well, that’s not strictly true. I have seen her a few times, but she hasn’t seen me.

  I have driven over to her place, even to her shop. But I’ve talked myself out of buzzing her apartment or walking into Next Chapter. I really don’t want to fuck this up.

  I haven’t touched her in so long…Okay, that’s not strictly true either. I couldn’t take it anymore. When she called me on the weekend, she was drunk. That didn’t matter to me though, the sound of her voice was heaven to me. My cock was damn near standing to attention in seconds, pressing against the seam of my boxers, begging for her.

  When I found out she was with Mike, I had to bite my lip. Not that he is a threat. But the notion of her drinking and talking and just being with somebody else, had me feeling possessive. Before I knew it, I was pulling up at the bottom of the street. I walked up to the house cautiously. Staying in the shadows, I crept up to the window. First I saw Mike, lying under a blanket on the couch. I could see two bodies and clenched my fists at the thought that he was cuddled up next to my girl—gay or not, I don’t want any man touching her, let alone having his drunken dick inches away from her.

  I had to get closer. So I used the key he provided for my valuer to inspect… Yeah, well, it’s my fucking house. Although I was fully aware that I was crossing boundaries, that didn’t deter me. The urge to get closer to Beth was too strong. All week she’d been haunting me. Invading my thoughts by day, and hosting my dreams by night. I just to be near her any way I could.

  It was my second time at the house. So much has happened since that first time. The very fact that Mike’s suitcases were stacked by the doorway was testament to that. I snuck in silently and stood waiting, watching for movement. Nothing. They were both out for the count.

  Step by step, I made my way over to the sofa. Mike was snoring. I glanced to the other end of the sofa and felt relieved when my eyes focused on the beautiful head of chocolate coloured locks flowing out of the other end of the blanket.

  I pictured her waking up, pulling back the cover and screaming at the discovery of an intruder. It still wasn’t enough. She was so close, the temptation to touch her was too strong. I wanted to run my fin
gers over her scalp and kiss her lips. Instead, I stroked her soft, wavy tendrils and carefully peeled away the blanket from her face.

  For a second, I forgot where we were. It was just like all the other times I’d studied her beautiful face whilst she was sleeping. Her lips were slightly parted causing my cock to inappropriately twitch. Resisting the urge to kiss her, I dragged myself away and left. That secret visit simply spurred me on in my pursuit to win her over. I need to convince her that our relationship hasn’t changed, that it won’t change. I need her to know that I can deal with Samara when the opportunity arises, but we won’t be affected by it.

  Right now, though, I need to touch her again, to feel her. I need to look her in the eyes and remind her of what we’ve got together. Since talking on Monday, we’ve spoken twice more and exchanged a few text messages. We’ve avoided going down the same route the conversation took us on Monday, though. That has meant that we could talk freely, and there were even a few moments when I forgot about all the shit that’s going on and it was just me and her—that’s how it’s supposed to be.

  We’ve spoken a lot about our families. Last night, Beth asked about my relationship with my brother. It got me feeling nostalgic, especially having emailed him earlier in the day. I reminisced about our closeness and admitted I missed my older brother, as well as the rest of the family. She asked me if he has children and it pained me to admit that I didn’t know. Jonty, my big bro, could’ve made me an uncle and my twisted up decisions have meant that I simply wouldn’t know—unless, of course, I asked.

  That conversation led to Beth asking me about the circumstances surrounding my infertility. I didn’t even realise that we hadn’t discussed it before. I told her that I was going through standard screening, but the results came back to show a significantly low sperm count. That wasn’t too concerning until the count depleted each time I was tested.

  During that time, though, the specialists had me wanking like a horny teenager, so that they could freeze as much sperm as possible. I haven’t been back since. All I know is that they take an annual fee out of one of my accounts to pay storage costs or some shit.

  My mom thought it was a blessing that they were able to do that before it was too late. I, on the other hand, saw it as a waste of time. I’d already decided that children weren’t on my agenda, and as far as I was concerned, my infertility was confirmation of that decision.

  Beth

  7:03pm

  Tuesday morning, a new parcel arrived. It was an antique wooden frame with a photograph of Jax and I together. It was taken one night in Devon. He is standing behind me with his arms laced around my waist. I can’t even remember who took it. But, one look at those strong hands touching me, had me believing I can feel them on me there and then. There was the usual card attached stating; ‘Wish 33 – I wish you’d display this in your new place with pride.’

  Of course, I did. I think it’s sat on every possible surface at some point. I prefer it beside my bed, but it basically follows me from room to room.

  I changed my thought process since speaking to Jax on Monday. Admittedly, I cried myself to sleep with self-pity, feeling trapped. Thankfully, I woke the next day with a burst of optimism. Partly due to a distinctly, realistic wet dream that had me waking up mid-orgasm with my hand between my legs!

  I decided to take better control of the situation, I need to get inside Jax’s head more. I’ve figured that if I can get him to open up more about his family, he may think about all the goodness he could have back in his life. Maybe he will see that he could be focusing his attentions on the positive influences in his life.

  Failing that, I have a plan B lined up too.

  Yesterday, a beautiful, colourful bouquet of fresh flowers arrived in a huge crystal vase. Upon reading the card, I realised that they are actually flowers from his garden. That gift meant so much to me. The card said; ‘Wish 32 – Angel, I wish you would look at these, smell them, and imagine yourself here with me.’ I did so straight away. I recalled the times we’d watered the plants together, or just sat out on the bench in the yard or down by the pool. It’s amazing to think of how many blissful memories we’ve made together.

  I woke up this morning in a sweat. After a few days respite, my nightmare came back with a vengeance. This time it went on long enough for me to wake up in tears, having finally gotten to see the twisted end.

  Unfortunately, there were no parcels or wishes to cheer me up and take my mind off it.

  After dinner, I cleared the kitchen and got my outfit ready for work tomorrow. I jumped in the shower, threw on some pyjama bottoms and a loose vest, and settled on the sofa with yet another romance novel.

  I’m currently twelve chapters deep and still finding no real release. I just can’t seem to sink into a book and get lost in the pages like before. I used to have book boyfriends on tap, but I’ve come to realise there’s two more items to add to my Fucked It List; romance novels and book boyfriends. The alpha could have blonde hair and blue eyes, but when it comes to the sex scenes, no matter how much I try—okay, not very hard—he morphs into Jax. Every. Time.

  A beautiful love story with romance, sex, and poetic gestures is no longer satisfying. In the last few days, I’ve found myself skimming the paragraphs just to get to the sex scenes. I literally want every page to reach out and fuck me. I want it graphic enough that I can smell the sex. I want the author to shut the fuck up about the important stuff—like the plot!—and give me a fucking alpha male who is muscular, tattooed, and wielding a monster dick to last a lifetime. I’ve been well and truly Jaxed. He has saturated every morsel of my life and I can’t escape. Mostly, that’s because I don’t want to. Not that that’s a bad thing necessarily. But, when I’ve been trying to imagine a life without him, romance novels aren’t a suitable distraction.

  Nevertheless, as I’m about to dive my desperate little eyes into yet another steamy sex scene, my phone vibrates beside me.

  Wish 31 – I wish you’d open the gate, Angel x

  Jumping up from my seat, my heart immediately plummets to the pit of my stomach, and then bursts back up into my throat. Oh my God, is he here? He wouldn’t come here, would he? No, it’s probably another delivery. Maybe they’ve buzzed and I didn’t hear them so they’ve called him.

  Just then, the intercom buzzes, accelerating my heart rate furthermore.

  I stride barefoot across my living area and press the speaker button on the intercom.

  “Hello, who is it?”

  “It’s me.”

  My mouth drops open, but I’m rendered speechless. I buzz him through the security gate before even considering what I look like. I quickly grab the hairband from around my wrist, bend over, and flick my hair between my legs. Frantically twisting my long hair around and around, I secure it into a chunky, damp bun.

  In that short space of time, he has made it to my door. He is here. Here. At my apartment. I don’t know whether to be livid at the intrusion, or melt at the gesture.

  I know I should look at him through the peephole, to prepare myself a little. But my body doesn’t allow it, wanting all barriers removed so that I can be near him. My hand reaches for the latch and I open the door.

  Jaxson Carter.

  I look him in the eye and, whether I want to or not, I can’t help but mirror his massive smile. All I can think is ‘Oh, Shit.’ The glint of uncertainty in his eyes doesn’t escape my notice. It’s also reflected in the slight shyness of his smile.

  Jax is wearing a suit. A navy this-is-how-much-I’ve-fucking-missed-you suit. The shirt is crisp white, teamed with a navy, silk tie. I drop my gaze lower to see his muscular thighs, defined by his trousers. Then, I force myself to look straight back up to his face before I shame myself further by lingering down there.

  He is drop dead gorgeous, and my honest reaction has only served to make his genuine smile more assured.

  Surprisingly, he isn’t clean shaven. His beautifully sculptured lips are framed with an immaculately trimme
d stubble. I find myself shoving my hands into my back pockets to suppress how my palms are itching to stroke it.

  Needless to say, my body has predictably ignited. The way he is drinking me in heats me deliciously from the inside, out. His gaze drops to my nipples, which have brazenly stood up to welcome him into my humble abode. He slowly licks his lips and the sight of his tongue causes a blush to start creeping up onto my cheeks.

  I take one hand out of my pocket to tug at my vest, which is when his eyes divert to the movement on my wrist. As he regards my bracelet, I use that opportunity to take a step back out of the intensity. This only gives me a better angle to admire how he fills my doorway with his impressive frame.

  Jax has one hand casually in his pocket and the other behind his back. He must notice me looking because he brings his hand to the front and randomly presents me with a cooler box. I take it and purposely avoid touching his hand. Lifting the lid, I see a huge tub of cookie dough ice-cream with two spoons laid out on top, earning him a giggle from me. Immediately, I notice that the handles of the spoons are engraved. One with a ‘Cookie Dough’ and the other with a ‘Chocolate Chip’, sending my thoughts back to me telling him that I’d be the chocolate chips and he’d be the best part, the cookie dough. His attentiveness is never lost on me. I appreciate every single gesture he makes because it serves to confirm just how much of a good man he really is.