“Jax?” Oh wow, had I actually said his name out loud? “Who’s Jax?”
"His mother owns the shelter, he works there. He seems like a good person Rita, they all are. I have to get back to work, I'll call before Christmas, I promise." I tried not to think about Christmas, which was now less than two months away. Holidays and birthdays had lost their joy when daddy had died.
"About Christmas sweetheart, I don't want you to be alone this year, and I know you don't want to come back home, so why don't we meet at Larry's, I'll give you a bus ticket as your Christmas gift." Home, since the night I’d left I had never thought of that place as home again. Home is where you lay your bones, home is where your heart is, home was where I made it.
“I’m not sure what my plans are for the next month or two. I like it here but I’ve only just arrived, and I really shouldn’t stay too long. I promised myself I’d be at the beach this winter.” I confessed, not wanting to disappoint her but knowing I just couldn’t turn myself around and head back toward Marcus. The closer I got to home the worse the panic attacks became. Rita sighed.
“I figured as much honey, I just thought that maybe over the years things might have gotten a little easier for you. Maybe BJ, Renee and I could meet you somewhere? Renee would love to finally meet you.” I knew Rita couldn’t afford a trip like that for all of them at this time of the year.
“Maybe, I’ll talk to you well before then and let you know where I’ll be.” I had no intention of dragging Rita and her family half way across the country just to keep my sad and sorry ass company.
"Okay sweetheart. I'm not going to push but I would love to see you again one of these days. Maybe once Renee is back at college I could come down to Clayton and visit you and Rebecca, I've got a free trip up my sleeve with work." The thought of seeing Rita again actually made me smile. I did love her, she had saved my life. Oh boy, those damn infuriating tears were threatening me again. Swallowing hard, I pushed the lump of emotion back down my throat.
“I’d love that. We’ll talk again soon. Give my love to BJ and Larry, and Renee of course.”
“You take care Ella, be smart and keep safe.”
Disconnecting the call I took a moment to compose myself before heading back into the front of the shop. Rebecca was busy taking an order as I resumed the thorn pruning, a tedious though somewhat rewarding job. It felt like I was ridding something beautiful of something ugly. I wish it were that easy with life. Simply cut away all the nasty, ugly parts of ourselves and leave behind the beauty. Life would be so much easier.
I arrived back at the shelter late that afternoon, feeling lighter than normal, carefree, even excited. Talking with Rita always infused me with energy and hope and the thought of seeing her soon made me ridiculously happy. My thoughts quickly swung to a certain blonde haired giant with steel gray eyes. My brain was screaming all sorts of profanities about how stupid I was behaving, but my heart was skipping around like a school girl in piggy tails, all full of hope and innocent anticipation. Two more women had left the shelter today, supposedly for good. Well, they had said for good, but apparently they bounced back and forth between their violent home and the safety of Mercy's regularly. Jax was nowhere to be found and once again I was confused by the relief and disappointment that racked my heart. All this inner turmoil was making my head hurt and my body crazy, I needed a break from it. Sitting in the middle of my bed I began folding laundry. My mind drifted with the monotonous task as my eyes wandered the long clean walls of the shelter. They were painted blue like the sky, and I suddenly wished I had some paint. I could add big fluffy white clouds and a bright yellow sun, maybe some children playing around a big old Oak tree. Better yet I could sketch or paint pictures of all the staff and have them framed and mounted along the wall, maybe even some of the women who passed through the shelter. I snorted loudly and most unladylike. My fanciful thoughts and dreams were useless and wasted energy. "Idiot," I snarled quietly to myself.
“Who are you talking too?” I jumped and almost found myself roll off the side of my bed, grappling with the sheet to hold myself from falling. Jax stood over me with a cheeky grin on his face.
"You scared the shit out of me," I growled.
“And you’ve got a dirty mouth,” he smirked. “What if Eli had of been with me?” I looked about feeling a little guilty and Jax chuckled.
“Don’t worry, he’s helping Mary with laundry, and I have been known to curse a time or two, so if you ever need pointers feel free to ask.” He just stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets looking a little awkward and unsure of himself. We both just stared at each other, a silence filled with unspoken conversation. Jax’s eyes were full of curiosity, so many questions burning to be asked, and yet, he didn’t ask a single one. For a man who seemed to wear confidence and arrogance like a favorite jacket, he really was just a simple man with insecurities and vulnerabilities, just like the rest of us.
"You want to help?" I offered. Part of me hoped he'd say no, the weak part, the scared part. Another part of me prayed he'd say yes, and I was assuming this part of me was all lustful woman. He grinned and promptly sat at the end of the bed and began folding towels.
"Looks like you've done that before," I teased, throwing his words back at him from the previous night. He chuckled and nodded his head.
“There was a time when I was referred to as the laundry King round here. People had respect and worshipped my skills.” It was my turn to laugh at his mocking arrogance.
"So, what made you decide to give up your laundry kingdom and enter the forces?" I asked after a short silence. Jax shrugged as he set a pile of clean towels to one side and began folding pillowcases.
"Laundry expertise only gets you so far," he winked at me, "And I always considered myself as some sort of defender of the human race. For a short while, I considered being a superhero, but I had no special powers or cool costume, so military it was." I folded my legs in front of me and turned to face him, a grin stretching from ear to ear. I liked his playful nature, and it helped me to relax. "I thought about the police force and even being a firefighter, but one day a few weeks before graduation this guy turned up at school to talk to some of us about the forces. The opportunity to travel, learn skills, make a difference, it was everything I needed to hear. I signed up the next day. You already know how the story ends."
“Do you regret it?” Jax shook his head, his eyes serious.
“Not at all. I learned skills, I learned how to build and fix things, shoot a gun," his grin was cheeky. "Every boy's dream is to fire a weapon. When I was a boy I had so many damn toy guns I could have started my own neighborhood armory." Guns made me nervous. Sure, I had handled one myself, clicked off the safety and pointed it directly into the heart of a demon, but I know if I had of pulled that trigger it would have changed me for the worse. Jax watched the play of emotions on my face.
“Don’t get me wrong angel, I’m not some crazy hillbilly weapons freak. I have a gun, I have a license to carry it, but it stays locked up at home and it’s only taken out to be cleaned or for the firing range now and again. I got all gun-play out of my system when I went to war in a country full of sand.” I nodded and found myself paying far too much attention to the folded towel before me.
"What about you angel, any regrets?" I laughed, but it wasn't a laugh filled with humor, more like a noise filled with shame.
"Much of my life is regret." I sighed and unconsciously rubbed my arms. "I do wish I had graduated high school though," I quietly added, locked in memories of the few times I enjoyed school, before hate caught me in its ugly grasp.
“Why don’t you then?” I looked at Jax and saw the sincerity in his words. I knew he was right, I could take night classes and graduate but then what? I couldn’t plan beyond a few days let-a-lone my entire future.
“Thanks for helping,” I abruptly stood, ending the conversation, and gathered the washing as Jax slowly stood with me.
“I’m off home tonight,”
he said. I hated myself at that moment, the disappointment that blindsided me was ridiculous. Nodding sharply I turned to leave. ”I’ve got the day off tomorrow, but I thought I’d drop by and say hello,” he called out over my back. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder, my heart flipping wildly at just the sight of him.
“I’d like that,” I confessed, before quickly running away.
Chapter 9
Jax
The next afternoon I dropped by the office of my construction company to take care of a couple of things and ended up giving Charlie, my best friend and manager, a ride home. He jumped into the passenger seat of my pickup, pushing the package that had been sitting on the seat to the floor.
"Shit, take it easy," I growled, reaching down and picking it back up, securing it safely between us. Charlie couldn't help himself as I drove off down the street peeking in the package like the nosy prick he was.
“You heading back to kindergarten?” He smirked, waving a box of pencils about like a complete child. Grabbing the box I stuffed it back in the bag.
“It’s a gift,” was all I offered. But Charlie wasn’t going to give up that easily.
“Uh-huh, for a kindergarten kid?” I shook my head. He patiently sat and stared, and I knew if I didn't give him something else he would continue to harass me.
“For a girl,” I mumbled.
“A girl girl?” He said with a light, innocent voice, "or a girl girl?" His voice deepened and his eyebrows wiggled in an attempt to look and sound like a seductive deviant, but he couldn't pull it off, he was too much of a douche to look seductive.
“A girl, as in a woman and a member of the opposite sex, I’m sure you remember them.” Charlie laughed.
"I do, in fact, I enjoyed the company of one last weekend." My eyebrows rose in surprise. Charlie had been going through somewhat of a dry spell for a month or two now and a month or two for Charlie was like a lifetime. Lately, he’d been different though, not as eager to hit the bars, calmness seemed to have settled over him and it made me wonder if maybe he was seeing someone.
“Who?” I demanded.
“No one you know, and stop trying to turn this conversation around on me. So, this is a girl girl,” he wiggled his eyebrows again and I chuckled. “Come on Jax, don’t leave me hanging. I’m assuming it’s not Selena, because…well…” He held up a book of blank art pages. “Selena would prefer gifts of the shiny kind.”
I hated interrogation and Charlie was the King of it. Rubbing the back of my neck I tried to soothe away the headache that was beginning to build there.
“Fuck me,” he whispered. “It’s a girl girl and you fucking like like her."
The look of shook on his face was laughable as was the way he was talking. In all the years I had known him he hadn't changed. When Charlie wasn’t training in the ring, probably the only thing he ever took seriously, he was perfecting the art of goofing around and pissing people off. He was the exact opposite of his strict Catholic parents. When we were in school, Charlie gained a reputation for being somewhat of a shithead. When he joined a local kickboxing school it turned out that Charlie was pretty fucking good at kicking ass. Unfortunately Charlie knew it. His arrogance saw him rub plenty of kids up the wrong way and he began getting into fights, his temper unhinged and fragile. His parents tried to reign him in with all sorts of threats, practically beating the bible into him until he got too damn big and was ready to hit back. When his life looked ready to tumble deeper down the rabbit hole, Mercy dragged him into the shelter one summer to work and at the same time, adjust his attitude. Charlie bitched and moaned for weeks about having to work his summer vacation, but it wasn't long before he saw the future that might lie ahead of him if he continued down the path he was on. With a little help from Mercy, he whipped himself into shape quick smart. In the ring now, Charlie was the best, there was no doubt about it, he was raw, primal fury. But he didn’t fight for competition or money anymore, even though he easily could and earn well. He still trained regularly at Lee's Gym, but street violence and bullying was no longer apart of his life. He had embraced his calling, Charlie was all goofing around and pissing people off. He was also about helping those who were vulnerable. The beaten down women he had seen come and go from Mercy’s changed him, and now he often put in shifts at the shelter when my construction company wasn't demanding his time. His cocky and smartass attitude obviously still thrived, though.
“So, what does she look like?” He started with the basics and for Charlie this was the most important part.
“She’s a woman, beautiful, tiny, perfect, and she’s living at the shelter.” That shut him up. His playful and flippant remarks stopped and he looked at me with a troubled wrinkle in his brow.
“You’re hooking up with a homeless girl?” My angry eyes stopped him immediately.
“I am not hooking up with her, I’m buying her fucking paper and pencils. She likes to sketch.” I was way too defensive and not fooling anyone, especially Charlie. He nodded and shrugged.
"Okay, whatever. Perhaps it won't bother you after-all to hear that I saw Selena out last night." I shook my head. No, it didn't bother me at all. Other than the fact her name reminded me of too many wasted nights. "She was all up in Daniel White’s personal space, her tongue shoved deep down his throat. I’m assuming he’s her new Ken doll."
“I feel sorry for Daniel, but they do make a perfect couple, I mean, he does look like Ken and all.” I mused and Charlie laughed.
"How the fuck do you know what Ken looks like?”
“Kids, in the shelter you dick.”
“Oh Yeah, fair enough.” After a pause, Charlie said, “Daniel has that plastic hair thing going on, doesn’t he? If I hadn't heard first hand from you how much of a sexual deviant Selena was I'd accuse him of having the whole asexual Ken doll package."
"I really don’t want to talk about Daniel's junk." I murmured, pulling my truck into the parking bay at Mercy's.
"What are we doing here?" Asked Charlie
“Dropping off the gift.” Charlie's eyes lit up. "And you're waiting here."
Charlie waved me off with a laugh. “Whatever, just hurry up, I’ve got a date tonight.” Part of me wanted to stay and ask about the date, but the more demanding and impatient part of me wanted to see Ella. Leaving Charlie to tap away on his phone, I grabbed the package and slammed the car door shut. I found Ella sitting quietly on the floor of the laundry room, her head buried in a book.
“Hey,” I said as I entered.
"Oh, hey," she startled, before the surprise became a small, shy smile. Kneeling down in front of her I tried to glance at the cover of the book.
“What are you reading?” I tilted the book forward to catch the title. I knew it well, Great Expectations.
"I always thought Pip was a chump." I murmured, and she cast me a nervous yet surprised smile. I shrugged. "It's Mercy's favorite book. Whenever I was deployed overseas I took a copy, it was kind of like I was taking a piece of her away with me. I read it a couple of times, but usually just stuffed it in the bottom of my pack and stared at it like some sort of crazy fuck when I was homesick." I held out the package I had bought for her.
She simply stared at it like it might bite her or something. “Don’t worry it’s nothing nasty, just a gift.” I explained.
“Why?” She blurted out.
"Just call me the giver who keeps on giving. I like to give presents, ask anyone. Hell, I bought Eli a noisy little truck yesterday, and maybe one day Annie will thank me for that ridiculously noisy thing." She hesitantly took the parcel.
“But I’m not a kid,” she whispered.
"No, you are not." It was pretty hard not to notice those enchanting eyes, perfect curves and lips that begged to be kissed. She was most definitely a woman. She wiped her palms on her thighs like she was about to dismantle a bomb or something and carefully peered inside.
"Holy Shit," she breathed as she tugged out the sketch book. I knew it was the good kind too; I had asked
for the best. There was a box of pencils and a carton of charcoal.
"The guy at the store said if you sketch portraits one of these would most likely be your medium. I wasn't sure which so I bought both." Her fingers touched the packet of charcoal with reverence. "So charcoal it is," I observed. She looked up at me anxiously and I could see the tears she was trying so hard to hold back. I got the impression she didn’t want me to see her cry, so I stood and smiled, allowing her the space I knew she needed. "So, draw me something tonight." She nodded and let her hair fall forward, hiding her face, hiding the tears in her eyes that would no doubt escape as soon as I was gone. I turned to leave. "On the inside of the sketchbook I wrote my phone number. If you need anything, call me. Like anything, a ride, someone to talk to, anything, okay?" She nodded again woodenly but clutched the charcoal to her like she was holding a baby. I left her sitting on the floor of the laundry, her eyes wide and full of unshed tears, with a gift she had looked at with such reverence it almost seemed as if nobody had ever given her a gift before, which if the case made me want to lose my shit.
Chapter 10
Ella
It took me a long time to get off the laundry floor. I just sat there like a stunned fool, tears falling down my cheeks over a damn gift, but oh what a gift. Some girls might prefer jewelry, some clothes, but for me this was the top shelf stuff. Jax, a man who barely knew me, knew none of my secrets, none of my dirty, awful past, had bought me a gift that pierced right through all the bullshit and wrapped itself right around my heart. I wondered if he knew everything if he still would want to buy me gifts. If he knew about the alcohol, the drugs, how much of a whore I was. I doubt he would want to come anywhere near me. While my hand twitched with the anticipation of drawing again, a small part of me was reluctant. Indulging in my art meant indulging in my dreams and indulging in my dreams would only result in disappointment. My life had been filled with so much disappointment I didn't know if I could take much more. Sketching had been the only constant in my life, the only thing that had always been there, before, during and after, regardless of how rarely I picked up the charcoal now, it was still there. By the time I dragged myself from the laundry floor I had missed dinner, but still managed to scrounge up some leftovers before helping Mary clean the kitchen. Eventually I found myself in a big comfy rocker with the sketchbook from Jax in my lap. After some time I sat with a single piece of charcoal, hovering nervously over the page and after even more time, I placed that single piece of charcoal to the page. My hand danced with familiarity across the sheet of paper leaving dark black lines plain and bold against the white backdrop, but with a simple brush of my finger, those blunt lines softened and grayed to create shadows. My portraits were black and white, but it's the monochrome shades of gray in between that make them seem so alive. I drew a portrait of Mercy. She was beautiful to draw, her face classically beautiful with tired lines but eyes filled with steel and determination. Jax had asked me to draw for him, so draw I would. This would be my gift to him in return for his kindness. A portrait would usually take me anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour, but I wanted this to be perfect, and an hour and a half later my finger blended the last shadow across the elegant arch of Mercy's neck.
Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3) Page 9
