“I know.” Jamie’s hands reached out to gently cover mine. He smiled at me; a genuine smile. “You were so closed off when you first walked in here. That boy opened you up again, and that’s good. That’s love. So, why are you still holding back, pumpkin?”
“I feel a lot of guilt for Iain,” I confessed, looking down at the table. Never before had I spoken so freely about this situation with anyone, and it was surreal that I was able to tell this to Iain’s brother. “If I could go back in time and…not do the things I did, I would. He didn’t deserve the jail sentence or to lose his teaching license.”
“He sort of did.” Jamie smiled sadly. “He knew the implications of what he decided to do, and still did it. He knew what was at stake. He didn’t blame you at all—he doesn’t blame you.”
I exhaled. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. This is about how I feel, what I think. I am scared to move forward with Jax because I’m afraid of destroying his life the way I destroyed Iain’s.” And Lauren’s. Although I didn’t verbalize it, the words ricocheted around in my mind, cutting into my heart.
“You are absolutely right about that, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. But don’t let the past define you,” Jamie said, his eyes earnest. “You can’t treat two people like the same person. Jax is not Iain. Your relationship with him is not the same one you had with Iain. It’s unfair to hold yourself back like that, not only to you but to Jax as well.”
“Not what I expected you to say, actually.” I tilted my head, a little amused. I was expecting Jamie to be Team Iain, if there was such a thing.
“I love my brother,” Jamie clarified. “I don’t agree with all his decisions but I don’t have to. We are completely different people. Just so long as you were never forced in any way.”
“I wasn’t,” I said, holding his gaze.
Jamie nodded with acceptance. “I wouldn’t worry about Iain. I wouldn’t waste my time feeling guilty for him. I am confident that he will find what he’s searching for just as surely as I’m confident that you’ve already found it.”
Jamie’s words made me speechless. All I could do was nod, stunned by his admissions. The need for me to reply was cut short by the tentative knocking of our first customer. Usually, our doors were open by now. Jamie squeezed my hands before releasing me, then he stood up and went to unlock the door, effectively beginning our day.
* * *
Even after my chat with Jamie, I was still on edge. It was almost as if I was waiting for Iain to walk back into the café, but three o’clock rolled around with no sightings. I decided I needed to hit up the gym. I hadn’t been since Friday morning, and after the greasy breakfast I’d had the day before with Crimson and Jenna, I needed it.
There was also a bonus to going now: Jax was working.
I spent two hours vigorously trying to make up for the days I’d missed. My work out time came to an end when I felt Jax approaching and I carefully set down the barbell I was lifting. My muscles were strained and tender.
“Good afternoon.” Jax grinned, eyeing me hungrily. “Are you just about done? I’m off now.”
“Yeah, I’m done. Do you mind if I have a shower first?” I asked, feeling extra sweaty and gross. Between the café, missing the last several days, and the sweat, I didn’t exactly smell delicate and feminine.
Jax’s eyes lit up at my question. “Go ahead, I’ll grab one too. Then maybe we could go out somewhere.”
“Sounds good to me.” I grinned.
I didn’t take my time in the shower. I showered with purpose, eager to get back to Jax and find out what he had in mind. Jax always had the best ideas for dates; he was the most creative, thoughtful person I had ever met. I used to be uneasy about surprises, but Jax made me anticipate them with excitement.
“So, where are we going?” I asked, trying not to bounce around in my seat as we drove.
“You’ll see. Need to make a quick stop first.” Jax smiled, winking at me. He drove up to The Bean and parallel parked in front of it. He leaned forward, his hand cupping around the side of my neck. He guided my lips towards his, kissing me tenderly and slowly. Each time he touched me, my body buzzed, desire coursing through my veins. My eyelids would involuntarily flutter, and I’d submit. Every time. “Stay here,” he instructed, knowing I would.
He returned several beats later with a wicker basket. I arched a brow as I watched him cross the street. When Jax planned something romantic, he usually conned Mark into making food for us; Jax claimed his own cooking skills were subpar.
Jax leaned in and put the wicker basket on the back seat. A moment later, he was opening the door and climbing into the cab with fluid ease. He smirked playfully at me. “Ready?” I nodded, and he started to drive.
We drove to the industrial part of town and pulled up to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. He parked carelessly and pocketed his keys. Without saying a word, he stepped out of the truck and grabbed the basket and a thick plaid blanket. I followed him towards a faded red steel door, my eyes narrowing with speculation when he pulled another set of keys out of his other pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, looking back at me with a delighted grin on his face. “Are you coming?”
Abandoned places made me feel uneasy, but with Jax there, I didn’t feel any fear. Just a growing curiosity.
He led the way into what must have been a parts factory for vehicles. The concrete floor had lighter stains where the equipment used to be. There was nothing there now; no rows of machinery and parts, no people working. It was dusty and smelled like mildew. The ceiling was high. So high. It must have been sixty feet tall. Dirty windows lined the entire room; a few panels were broken from stones, but the rest were still intact.
Jax walked to the center of the cleared room, spreading the blanket out along the floor. He set the basket in the middle of the blanket.
“What is this place?” I asked.
Jax stood up to his full height and threw his arms out, gesturing to our surroundings. “You’re looking at the future home of Aconi Walker MMA!”
I was silent for several beats, absorbing this news. “You’re fucking kidding me. No way. NO WAY, JAX!” I screamed before lunging at him. He caught me effortlessly in his arms, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, lifting my head back to meet his eyes. “That’s incredible! Congratulations!” I said. Jax smiled, and I leaned forward to kiss him. His fingers pressed into my ass, squeezing me to him. We kissed for several minutes, losing track of time. The deep groan that spilled from my lips stirred Jax, and he slowly broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead against mine and gave me a wicked smile.
“We’ll have to resume that later. It’s pretty cold in here,” he pointed out.
“True.” I shivered, imagining my back against the cold concrete. Yeah, it was better to wait until we were somewhere warm. Besides, I had questions to ask. I released my grip around his waist and dropped to the ground. “So, tell me how this happened.” I sat down beside the basket, facing Jax and looking up at him earnestly.
Jax sat down across from me. “Well, you know the owner of the gym, Jared Aconi?” I nodded and he continued. “I happened to mention my plans for the future…about wanting to really make that youth program grow. He told me that there’s a rising interest for mixed martial arts. Then he told me he bought this warehouse last year, and it’s just been sitting here. He was going to turn it into another gym, but there’s already so many out there. I guess my plans got him thinking about turning it into a gym that focuses on Mixed Martial Arts. He said I could run it with his input, like a part-owner.”
“That’s awesome, Jax!” My heart grew with pride.
“I know.” Jax shook his head, almost bewildered. “It’s mind-blowing that Jared trusts me with this…it’s a huge undertaking. I’ll get paid in salary, and I’ll be able to host that program and many others. We’re drawing up the official business plans and everything. It’s going to need a lot of renovations,” Jax added, glancing around the aba
ndoned space thoughtfully. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present as he started digging around in the basket. He pulled out wrapped sandwiches and a thermos of hot chocolate mixed with coffee—just the way I liked it. He held a sandwich out to me.
“So, you’d potentially bring your class that you’re doing at the gym over here then,” I clarified, accepting the sandwich and unwrapping it.
“Yeah.” Jax’s grin was infectious. “I’ll also hold classes for other people too, but those kids will learn for free.” He was talking about the kids in the troubled youth program. “I’m hoping a few of them would be interested in volunteering too, down the road. It’d lead to employment opportunities. Jared’s completely on board with my ideas. It’s crazy.”
“That’s incredible, Jax,” I remarked. “And it’s really not all that crazy—you’re a smart, intuitive man. Jared sees that.”
“Thanks.” He smiled at me. “I figured something else too,” Jax said, pausing to take a huge bite of his sandwich. He chewed it slowly, and then took a leisurely sip from the thermos while I not so patiently waited. “I remember you saying a while ago that you wanted to help women who suffered from abuse. I figured, if you wanted, you could do that here. I could section off a small area for you and offer discounted self-defense classes.”
My eyes widened so much, I thought they’d pop clean out of my skull. I gaped at Jax, too many words rushing me at once. “I don’t even know what to say, Jax…” I finally managed. It was true: I was speechless. “But I’ve only taken a few psychology classes. I’m not going to be licensed to help them. I’ll be getting my BA in English, remember?”
“With an emphasis on women’s studies,” Jax finished, winking. “Have you given any thought to continuing on to get your BA in psychology? You’ll already have the emphasis on women’s studies.”
I snorted. Me? Be a psychologist? That was laughable. I was the most messed up person I knew. I could barely sleep, I was constantly running on anxiety and my stomach was always twisted with fear.
I paused, the amused smirk falling from my lips when I realized that lately, my stomach wasn’t always twisted in fears. The nightmares were beginning to fade off—they weren’t happening as frequently. I was by no means healed, but I was getting better. Why? I wondered. Was it because I’d thrown myself into everyone else’s lives?
“I don’t know, Jax.” I sighed, biting my lip. I didn’t want to tell him that the idea of taking out more loans was intimidating. I didn’t have a fancy inheritance to fall back on.
Besides, writing was in my soul, and I sort of wanted to see if I could make an income off it…somehow.
Like Iain. The thought left a bad taste on my tongue. I took a swig from the thermos, welcoming the taste of hot chocolate and coffee. Iain wasn’t my reason for wanting to write. Yeah, he was doing that now. Good for him; I was happy he was following his dreams. But before I met Iain, I loved words. Writing seemed to be the only way I could express my emotions and thoughts. Writing was the only way I didn’t have to pretend to be infallible.
I’d always wanted to be a writer; I’d always written things, but Iain was the first person who made me believe that I could do it. That I could write, that I had a talent for it.
Professor Sharpe seemed to think I had a talent for it too.
“Well, you could host a survivor’s chat once a week. Then you’re just offering a support group, you know?” Jax suggested. “You’re a natural, Harlow. I think it’s because you genuinely get it. You’ve been there and you know how to react and that’ll really cross over.”
I thought about it for a moment, a slow smile lifting the corners of my lips up. I liked the idea of helping other women, of helping them see that they weren’t their pasts, their circumstances. I liked the idea of making a difference, even if it was just on a volunteer basis.
“I like the idea of that,” I told him.
Just when I thought Jax had exhausted all of his surprises for the day, he pulled out another one. After we finished eating, I cleaned up our mess while he disappeared into a tiny room off to the far left after telling me to stay put.
The tiny room had its own walls, separating it from the rest of the warehouse. It had either been an office or a staff room back when the place was functional. I felt the desire to go and explore, but Jax’s eagerness kept me rooted.
Jax returned carrying a cardboard box. He set it down on the floor in front of me. “Are you ready?” he asked, a playful grin on his thick lips. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and kneeled down, pulling out a pair of rollerblades.
“We’re…rollerblading?” I asked, confusion marring my face.
“Yup!” Jax smiled broadly. “I used to rollerblade all the time in Lake Cowichan.”
“That was a different time,” I said gravely, trying to shove the skate away. “Nobody rollerblades anymore.”
“You say that like it means something.” Jax cocked an eyebrow. “Since when does Harlow Jones give a shit about what everyone’s doing?” He was baiting me, challenging me. Just like he did with the ice skating.
“Fine,” I said glumly. “Only it will be your fault when I end up with a concussion and can’t have sex for seven months.”
Jax threw his head back and laughed that deep laugh, the one that instantly brought a grin to my face. He effectively chased away my sullen mood with that laugh, replacing my scowl with a smile. “I think you’re safe. I brought you a helmet, if you want.” Jax lifted the helmet out from the box. “Knee pads and elbow pads too. Safety first.” He winked.
“Fine. I’ll rollerblade, but only if you answer some questions.” I smiled at him slowly. He sensed trouble, but his expression didn’t change even though he knew I was up to something.
“Ask away. I’m an open book.” He set his rollerblades down beside him and started to take off his boots.
“Tell me about Lake Cowichan,” I whispered.
Whatever Jax was expecting, it wasn’t that. He paused pulling on one rollerblading boot, his left leg bent towards him, and stared at me. I could see all kinds of heady emotions rolling through his eyes. “What about it?”
“Just what it was like to live there?” I explained my question a little further, sounding meek. I went about the task of putting my own rollerblades on.
“You already know the gist of it,” Jax said carefully. I glanced up, watching as he ran his hand through his hair, the action absent and distracted. “It’s a beautiful place, but I don’t have many fond memories.”
“Except rollerblading,” I corrected. I’d seen the smile on Jax’s face when he mentioned it.
He looked at me, his eyes suspending me in time. “Yeah, except rollerblading. And fishing.” He nodded solemnly.
“Who did you rollerblade with?” I was afraid to ask these questions, but I wanted to know more about Jax. I knew who he was, but I didn’t know much about his past—excluding what he told me about his father.
“My mom,” he answered softly.
The only time he had ever mentioned his mother before had been that day on our hike where he’d told me that his father had abused him and his mother had stood by, too weak to intervene.
“She wasn’t always spineless.” He smiled sadly, catching where my thoughts had gone. “My mother used to have stars in her eyes. Or at least…she did when she looked at me. Every time he’d come home drunk—which was all the time—she took the brunt of my dad’s abuse. Each time he’d get irrationally pissed off about something—any time I was bad, or when he thought I was bad—he’d flip. He’d go for me, but she’d put herself between us. My grandpa helped too. He got me out of there every weekend, out of my dad’s line of sight. But she stayed there, and every time I came home from fishing with Grandpa, she’d have a black eye or a busted lip, something to make me regret leaving in the first place. It was a power play by him, a way to teach me that even if I escaped, I’d pay for it.”
My heart tightened with sadness as Jax spoke, telling me the se
crets of his childhood that I knew he carried. Despite how heavy the subject was and how it obviously still hurt him, he seemed steady. “I’m so sorry, Jax. I just can’t wrap my head around any of it...” I trailed off, frowning as I tried to work it out. I couldn’t understand why Jax’s mom hadn’t just left with him, or why nobody did anything about Jim Walker’s abusive, alcoholic behaviour. It was wrong.
Jax leaned forward, catching my chin with his fingers. He gently tipped my face so that I was staring into his deep brown eyes, the gold around his pupils flickering like a flame. “I’ve spent the last twenty-odd years trying to figure it out, Harlow. It’s unfathomable. My grandpa was from an era where you didn’t meddle; the best he could do were those fishing trips. My mom was seventeen when she got pregnant with me. She was disowned by her family and moved to British Columbia with my dad shortly before she married him. He tried to stomp her heritage out of her, isolate her so she had nobody but him. It worked. She had a fight in her, and then one day…she didn’t. She stopped. She disconnected.”
I was having difficulty breathing. Hearing him talk about it hurt me, and I hadn’t experienced it firsthand like he had. I couldn’t imagine the fear Jax must have felt as a child. My eyes welled with tears, and I tried desperately to blink them away. “How do you not hate her?” I whispered, my eyes catching his.
“I did,” Jax said grimly. “For years. But time gives you a perspective you couldn’t see before, and now I just feel bad for her. She was a child when she had me. She had nobody but an abusive, manipulative asshole who isolated her from everyone and everything she knew.”
“And him?” I said bitterly, unable to hide my anger. “I don’t get it. Your grandpa wasn’t abusive.”
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