“Don’t call me by my given name. Only those I love can use it. You lost that right a long time ago!”
He flinches at my harsh words.
I take a few steps to the side and back, a mini pace in the room. “When the rumors started,” I begin, but then feel the heat of tears building behind my eyes. “The bullying, the teasing that followed. I had girls throwing trash at me, Jackson. Guys made lewd comments all day long. They had all seen me naked, viewed every crevice of my body in a way that was only meant for you. I received death threats from girls who thought the guy in the video was their boyfriend. The words were awful, but the touching—” I pause and close my eyes at the terrible memory, my mouth turning down in disgust. “I was followed home one day by a group of men. They cornered me, tried to lift my skirt, fondled my breasts. I don’t know if they were going to rape me or if they just thought touching was innocent fun. Thank God, I’ll never know because my dad drove by just in time. He saved me, and I had no choice, but to tell him about the tape.”
He curses under his breath. “I had no idea—“
“You want to know why I’m not a fighter? Because even with the ridicule and the heinous words thrown my way, with my parents choosing to pick up and leave our home to protect me, after all of that, it pales in comparison to knowing while that was going on, you were gone. You disappeared. My entire life imploded over the course of a week, and you did nothing.”
“I couldn’t do anything! I was away at school. By the time I realized how bad it was, it was too late. I tried to get to you, but you shut me out.”
“I was protecting you!” The tears fall in hot streams cascading down my cheeks. That damn sledgehammer pounding away on my wall, the pain rushing out. Hurt and anger pour down my face. “You were eighteen, Jax.”
His bloodshot eyes widen and his mouth parts. Watching the realization of what I’ve been protecting him from, after he did the worst to me, cross his face is more than I can bear.
I explain the past he so clearly hasn’t heard. “My dad said if you came within fifty yards of me, he’d have you arrested for statutory rape and distribution of child pornography. Your father offered us a half a million dollars to walk away.”
He has a look of disgust on his face. Whether it’s toward his parents or me, I can’t tell.
Whoever it’s for, I ignore it and continue. “I begged my parents to take the money. I told them if they took it, we could move to a new town. Start over.”
Jax held the handheld camera so you couldn’t see it was him in the video. If we took it to court, I’d have to testify he was the one who filmed and shared the tape. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t destroy his life like that.
And more importantly, I couldn’t do it to myself. Jax is the son of a senator. The news would have hit the papers. I was fine being the mysterious blonde. I didn’t need my name attached. I was already a laughing stock, locally. I saved myself from national shame.
I wanted to move on, and that’s what we did. My dad is the East Coast Director of a glass manufacturing company. It didn’t matter where he lived as long as he was in his territory. Their headquarters is in Connecticut, so we moved there, and the rest is history.
“It was smart to stay away from me. Turns out I wasn’t the honest and good guy you thought.” He turns his head toward the window and clenches his jaw. The only sound in the room is the pelting rain against the glass.
There’s a code orange coming over the loudspeaker and a shuffle of activity on the other side of the door. When the commotion dies down, I shift from one foot to the next and try my hardest not to breathe in the palpable tension in the room.
“So what did the doctor say?”
Jax blinks a few times. “Nothing. He said nothing.”
“Your arm is pretty bad,” I say from my spot by the door. “Do you think you’ll be able to play again?”
He lets out a disappointed grunt from inside his throat.
I cross my arms in front of me and take a step toward his bed. “How did you end up in a band? Talk about changing your career path.”
He raises a brow. “You mean law school?” He continues when I nod my head. I dropped out of college my sophomore year.”
It’s the one thing I never understood. All these years stalking him on the internet, keeping tabs on what he’s been up to, I never understood how he went from wanting to be a lawyer to a professional musician.
“Did something happen?”
“I don’t want talk about this anymore.”
Palming my hand down my face, I laugh into my hand. “I give up. What are we supposed to talk about?”
“Strawberry jam.”
“What?”
“You love strawberry jam on dry turkey.” Jax scrunches his face as he recalls this little-known fact.
After the exchange we just had, this is how he breaks the tension. I fall onto the recliner and wonder how on earth we are going to survive staying in this room together for another few hours.
“It’s not that weird,” I counter.
“It’s fucking gross.”
“What about ketchup on eggs?” I stick my finger into my mouth and pretend to gag.
“Delicious,” he answers with a wide-mouthed grin.
“Disgusting.”
“You still look behind the shower curtain every time you walk in a bathroom?”
“There could be a serial killer in there.”
He puts his uninjured hand up in the air and says, “There could be,” in a mocking tone.
I level my eyes at him. “You’re the loser who’s still afraid of ghosts.”
“How do you know I…” Jax starts and stops, and I watch as realization crosses his face. “You stalk me.”
Shit. “Do not.”
He grins at me, and it’s unnerving. “I spoke about that in an interview last year.”
“How many tattoos do you have?” I ask quickly, gesturing to the dragon on his torso.
“You checked me out while I was unconscious,” he says as a statement more than a question.
I grimace as if I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“They have a name for that. Necrophilia.”
“You’re not wearing a shirt. I can see them from here.”
“What do you think of the lotus flower?”
“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen one in electric blue, I…” And this is when I realize by the smirk on his face, that I’ve been caught. “I was checking for injuries,” I defend. “So, do they mean anything or do you just wander into any tattoo parlor drunk and stoned and select what you want?”
Jax whistles through his teeth. “Someone grew up to be judgy.”
And just like that, the Catholic guilt sets in. I may hate him, but that shouldn’t change who I am or how I treat people. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t being true to myself.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” his words are curt. His jaw is set in a hard clench, his eyes focused deep into mine, the caramel hue turning to a fierce copper. “Don’t ever apologize. Especially to me. You’re right. I’m a soulless monster.” Jax raises his good arm and holds it up. “See this one,” he says, pointing to a clover on the inside of his bicep, “blasted on Guinness in Dublin. And this,” he bends his elbow, and on his forearm is a trail of feathers extending to his wrist. “I just thought they were pretty.”
“What about the dragon?” I lean forward in the chair, my elbows propped on my knees. “Fire breathing over your heart. That seems way too coincidental to be a drunken purchase.”
“Best and worst of humanity.” He raises his chin. “So what about you? You still a blank canvas?”
I take a moment to decide if I should show him mine. It’s personal, something that took months for me to perfect on paper before letting it be etched on my skin.
“Just one.” I raise my sweatshirt over my head leaving me in my tank top. I turn around in the recliner, swipe my hair to the side and pull back the str
aps to showcase the phoenix on my shoulder blade. It is mostly black with a faint outline of marigold and amber around the features. The bird’s head is held high, facing away from my shoulder, ready to soar. The wings are up and outstretched in a proud display. It’s not too big, and it’s not too small. I can cover it with a shirt or showcase it for all to see.
“When did you get it?” he asks as I put my hair back in place.
“When I started college.”
He gives an understanding nod and looks around the room. “It really is dark in here.”
“Do you still sleep with a nightlight? You always were a chicken.”
“That’s because you used to make me watch those damn scary movies. And it wasn’t like we could watch them together. We had to talk on the phone while I sat alone, in my room watching Jason or Freddy or whatever freak with a mask you were obsessing over mutilate people.”
I laugh out loud. He may have this new hard exterior all tatted up and full of muscle, but he’s still a wimp.
I shake my head. “What would your fans say?”
“Calm yourself there, Hogan. I’ve grown up quite a bit since then. I may still believe in ghosts, but I can handle my own in any situation,” he says, flexing his muscles. “How’s your family?”
Swaying from side to side I answer, “Dad’s still a workaholic. He was promoted to Regional Manager, so he’s pretty happy. My mom works for a great dentist in Cheshire. Everyone’s content.”
“That’s where you moved to?”
I turn my head to the side and rub a hand over my head. “Yeah. It’s in Connecticut.” With a nod, I turn back to Jax and ask, “So, how’s Ella? She has a daughter.”
“Vivian.” His face lights up as he says her name. “She’s awesome. Five-years-old and the funniest kid you’ll ever meet. I’m teaching her how to play the guitar. Her little fingers can’t get the chords, but she’ll catch on.”
“I can see you love her very much.”
A blush creeps up his face. “She has this beautiful face which makes you think she’s this sweet little girl—which she is—but she’s also feisty as hell. She wants to do everything faster and better than everyone else. I took her to the park, and there were these kids, maybe eight or nine-years-old, playing soccer. She went over and asked if she could join, but they told her she was too little. She came off the field with her lower lip sticking out, and this scowl on her forehead. She sat on the sidelines and watched. They started playing, and they’re passing to one another and trying to score, but no one gets a goal. Viv’s little head went left to right and back and forth, watching this game until, suddenly, she jumps up, charges and steals the ball from this kid twice her size and dribbles it to make a spectacular goal. I mean, the ball flew twenty feet. The goalie dove and everything. Their jaws were hanging. They couldn’t believe this pip-squeak stole their game. Instead of celebrating, she just turned around, marched off the field, and said, ‘Come on, Unc. Let’s go home.’”
I let out a sharp laugh that makes me lean forward. “She sounds like a little spitfire.”
“She is. Ella is gonna have her hands full with that one.” His dimples appear as he smiles.
I’m just about to ask about his relationship with Ella when the Law & Order theme song sounds. I look down at my phone. It’s Kevin. Why in the world is he calling me at five in the morning? I answer it in case it’s an emergency.
“Hi, babe, are you okay?” I say into the phone.
“Yeah, I’m just checking on you,” he says, and I relax a bit. I look up at Jax who is watching me on the phone.
I rise from my chair to find privacy. “I’m fine. Hang on one second.” I put Kevin on mute and then open the door to the hallway. It is now lined with people, many of them asleep, some talking to others. I don’t want Kevin to know I’m in a hospital, so I need to find somewhere quiet. The hallway is not going to be that spot. I don’t think there will be a quiet spot anywhere for the rest of the night.
Backing through the door, I close it behind me and walk into the bathroom of Jax’s hospital room. Safely enclosed in the tiny space, I talk low, “Sorry about that.”
“Why are you whispering?”
Shit. “No, I’m just waking up. I was sleeping.”
“Okay,” he says, unconvinced. “Did you lose power?”
“No. We’re still good here.”
“Kelli’s Facebook post said you lost power hours ago.”
Double shit. “Did we? I don’t know. I’ve been asleep.”
“This is why I wanted you to come to my place. I don’t like the idea of you girls being alone. What if something happens to you?”
I don’t answer. There’s no right way to answer that—he’s right—a normal girlfriend would want to be with her boyfriend during a blackout. The line remains silent.
“Do you mind if I go back to sleep? I’ll call you in the morning. I promise.”
Kevin lets out a sound that radiates disappointment and annoyance. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s late. He’s tired, and there’s a serious storm outside that has everyone a little panicked.
“Yes. Call me. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Bye.”
I open the bathroom door and see Jax’s handsome face staring straight at me. “You didn’t tell him where you were.”
With a rise of my brows, I hold the phone up in the air and make a hand motion to say, “you are correct.”
I take a seat on the edge of the mattress before I realize that I took a seat on his bed. It’s a spot people who care about the other person in his condition would sit in. It also means our bodies are touching in some way. Even with the blanket between us, my back is up against his good leg. I should get up and move, but that would be even more distracting than just staying here. So I’ll just stay and pretend I meant to sit here.
If Jax is surprised by my location, he doesn’t show it. He just looks on, waiting for me to answer his comment.
“Telling him where I was would require me telling him about you.”
He nods. “Ashamed?”
“With every part of my being.”
He lets out a deep breath. His shoulders fall back onto the bed, I hadn’t realized they were so tense. “Tell me about him. Is it serious?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Humor me.”
I bite my lip and then answer, “We’ve been together two years. He wants me to move in. I’m considering it.”
“Only considering it? I thought girls were anxious to move in and then get engaged. Isn’t it usually the guy who has to consider things?”
“Well, I was burned in the past by this guy that I really loved so excuse me if I am a little jaded.” My words aren’t bitter or full of anger, simply matter-of-fact.
“Why are you living a life you don’t want?”
“Excuse me?”
“In a job, you don’t love. With a man, you can’t commit to. I know I robbed you of your passion, but you’re just cashing it in at this point.”
“Wow. And to think, I was starting to warm up to you.”
“Trish, listen to me.” Jax places a hand on my thigh, the contact causing me to stop breathing for a moment.
I follow the path from his callused hand, up his forearm where the IV is inserted. Across his jaw with the day-old stubble that’s grown in, up his beautiful face, and into his intense, almond-shaped eyes. He said to listen, but all I can do right now is feel his hand and see his face. The two have me in sensory overload, I don’t know if my ears will even work.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers with utter conviction and I think my heart actually stops beating. “Don’t let what I did to you in the past destroy your future. I can’t erase what happened—no one can. But you can control what you do with the rest of your life.”
My lips part as I try to will my heart and brain to move. “You abandoned me for years, and now you want to make sure I’m okay?”
“I’m not saying I
have the right—”
“You don’t. You lost that right when you took the most sacred gift I could offer and tarnished it. I was in love with you.” My voice shakes with the admission.
“I know.” He bows his head and removes his hand from my thigh to rub his eyes. “You know, I um, they’re not…” He takes a breath. “There’s never been someone since you. Not in that way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Oh, no you get me wrong. I fucked a lot of girls but nothing like...” His voice trails off.
“This is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. It’s just…I don’t want you thinking I screwed you over and became this amazing guy for every other girl.” His admission doesn’t make me feel better nor does it make me hate him more.
I look down at my fingers. They’re lightly tracing the words he just said on the inside of my palm as if trying to engrain them in my skin forever. I’m sorry.
“Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” he breaks the silence. “You could have bailed, but you didn’t. You’re a better person than me.”
“No, I’m just a glutton for punishment.” I surprise myself by laughing a little with the comment.
He laughs, too, but then his face turns serious. “I’m scared. Am I allowed to say that? I’ve never had surgery before.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s just an arm and a leg. Not like they’re performing open heart surgery.”
“You’re right. I’m…” His eyes look around as if looking for the right words. “I’m glad I’m not alone. I’m so tired of being alone.”
You can make someone out to be the devil, yet we all have a vulnerable side.
As if on autopilot, I lean over and place my palm on his cheek. When my fingers fall into the hair on the side of his head, he closes his eyes and leans into my palm. My thumb rubs against the stubble as I comfort him in the way loved ones do.
This hardened man who played the villain to my adult life is showing me his weakness. The vulnerability is beautiful and sincere, just like the boy he once was.
It’s also dangerous as hell.
The door opening breaks our moment of, whatever this is, and the nurse walks in followed by an orderly and a doctor.
True Abandon Page 6
