Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

by Lauren Asher

  He tilts his head at me. “Was that a compliment?”

  I roll my eyes while grinning. “Don’t get used to them.”

  “Jax, stop hitting on my date. Let’s go!” Caleb waves at us from the hallway.

  Jax looks like he wants to say something, but I tug on his hand. We follow Caleb to the back room where Jax’s tattoo artist, Alan, sets up his supplies.

  Caleb settles onto the main chair while Alan preps his skin. Jax and I sit next to each other in the cramped corner. My body becomes aware of his proximity, with his legs brushing against mine.

  Desire tugs at my stomach when Jax laces his fingers together with mine again. His thumb rubs over the thin bones of my hand, evoking goosebumps across my skin.

  “That’s really what you want, mate?” Jax eyes the sketch of Caleb’s tattoo.

  “Yup.”

  Jax nods at Alan, fighting a smile. “Give the kid what he wants.”

  Caleb sits through the pain, making jokes as Alan inks the letters. The process is rather short. Our new friend shows off his tattoo located on the inside of his arm where I usually get blood taken out.

  I trace around the red skin to avoid hurting him. “‘No rain, no flowers.’ Interesting choice for someone your age.”

  “It’s my mom’s favorite quote.”

  “And the location?” I tap a vein.

  “I thought it would be nice to have something strong to look at during my next round of chemo.” Caleb’s response causes my vision to blur.

  He shoots me a wobbly smile. “Don’t cry over me, love. That’s the way the cookie crumbles.”

  “Hey, don’t steal my nickname for her.” Jax wraps an arm around my shoulder, tugging me into his side.

  Jax’s simple possessiveness has my heart working overtime to keep up.

  “I’m guessing that’s all.” Alan begins to pack up his supplies.

  “Wait,” I blurt out. “I want a tattoo.”

  “You want a tattoo? You?” Jax’s head jerks back.

  “Is it that hard to believe?”

  “To be honest, yes,” Caleb chimes in.

  I scoff before turning toward Alan. “I want a small one.”

  Jax raises a brow at me. “You sure about this?”

  “Yes.”

  Jax shrugs before taking a seat with Caleb across the room. I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me any more questions because I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve.

  I show Alan the design I want and where I want it. It may seem childish and stupid to anyone else, but to me it symbolizes everything I want to become while embracing the broken parts of myself.

  Alan cocks a brow at me. He pulls out his iPad and sketches the design, making it identical to the photo I showed him.

  “Perfect.”

  “And to double-check, you want it here?” He taps the side of my middle finger where a jagged scar remains from many years ago.

  “That’s right.” I offer Alan my hand and he gets to work with the transfer paper.

  He prepares the skin. The buzzing sound echoes off the walls. I flinch when the needle touches my skin, hissing at the unexpected pain.

  Alan frowns. “Sorry. It’s going to hurt.”

  “Caleb didn’t even wince. How’s that possible?” My eyes bounce between all the men in the room.

  “I get stabbed all the time with needles.” Caleb shrugs.

  Jax squeezes Caleb’s shoulder in the sweetest gesture. The way Jax looks at Caleb has me forgetting the pain for a second. “That’s what makes you the toughest guy I’ve met.”

  Caleb laughs as if Jax said the funniest thing ever. When Jax doesn’t laugh in return, Caleb’s eyebrows pinch together. “Oh, you’re serious?” His voice echoes his confusion.

  “Of course. Any person who has dealt with the shit you have and still wears a smile every day is a badass in my book.” Jax lets go of Caleb’s shoulder.

  “Whoa. You’re giving me all the feels.” Caleb readjusts his glasses.

  Jax shakes his head. “I’m serious. In some ways, I look up to you.”

  My heart threatens to explode from my chest. I didn’t expect Caleb’s visit to impact Jax as much as it has, but I’m grateful Jax connected with someone who battles his own struggles day after day. Caleb carries himself with strength and positivity, and it’s something I think Jax can learn from with time.

  “Well, uhm, thanks.” Caleb’s cheeks flush as he looks down at his new tattoo.

  Jax drags his chair to the side of the bench, and grabs onto my unoccupied hand. “Finger tattoos hurt more than some other ones. Squeeze my hand whenever you’re in pain. It’ll be over sooner than you know it.”

  My mind focuses on his touch rather than the burning sensation. “Wow. How did you cover your entire body in these?”

  “Pain is only temporary.” Jax offers a tight smile.

  Alan gets back to work. I clutch onto Jax’s hand like a lifeline, concentrating on his thumb rubbing against my skin soothingly. Caleb chats with Alan while I remain entranced by Jax.

  I look into his eyes, catching him staring at me. Fighting the urge to turn away, I allow myself to give in to the moment. His eyes darken as they roam over my body, lingering on my chest before meeting mine again.

  Go me for picking the green dress tonight. The look he sends my way makes the strapless bra all the more worth it.

  “Fuck. You’re really something else. Beautiful, inside and out, which is painfully cheesy to say.” He brings my hand up to his face and presses his lips against the fragile bones. My body burns with want as I focus on my reaction toward him rather than the needle prodding my skin.

  I scrunch my nose in mock disgust. “Who knew you lacked any flirting skills?”

  “That’s because he usually doesn’t have to work for it since women fall into his lap. Give him a run for his money,” Caleb says over the buzzing of the needle.

  “Does the kid ever know when to shut up?” Jax mumbles under his breath.

  “Nope. I started talking at a year old and never stopped. My mum threatened to buy me a muzzle.”

  Alan gives me the all-clear to move off the bench, ending my moment with Jax. “I haven’t had a request from that movie before.”

  My vision becomes fuzzy as I assess the mocking jay pin covering the scar from the night of my parents’ deaths. I attempt to hide my emotions, but Jax grabs my hand and assesses the dainty tattoo.

  “Interesting choice for a first tattoo.”

  “Big Katniss Everdeen fan, I take it?” Caleb bumps his shoulder against mine.

  “Hmm.” Quite the opposite. But I can’t ignore the connection I have to the story, seeing as it’s one of the last memories I have of my dad.

  Jax helps me up from the bench.

  “Anything for you, mate?” Alan points the needle at Jax.

  He shakes his head. “No. I’m good today.”

  Jax ignores my request to pay for the tattoo. He covers the costs of everything and leads us to the exit. We all stop, staring at the pouring rain, not finding our town car in sight.

  “Shit. Let me check on the driver.” Jax pulls out his cellphone and walks back inside, leaving us under the awning.

  “Hey, Caleb, have you ever danced in the rain?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Is it okay for you to be in the rain for a few minutes?”

  “I like the way you think. Plus, I never say no to a lady.” He beams.

  I grab onto his hand and drag him into the storm. The rain beats against our skin as I play a random song on my phone. Caleb grabs my hand and spins me around.

  Is it reckless for Caleb to expose himself like this? Yes.

  Is it worthy of his own snow-globe moment? Absolutely.

  28

  Jax

  I can’t take my eyes off Elena, smiling despite her wet hair clinging to her face. She shouldn’t be attractive to me at that moment since she resembles more of a drowned cat than a human. Caleb and Elena dance in the rai
n, laughing despite the thunder rattling the window next to me.

  Her smile snatches away my oxygen. I want to steal her for myself while owning her lips, her smiles, and everything in between.

  Elena laughs into the dark sky as Caleb twirls her in a circle. They ignore everything around them as they both dance terribly together in the middle of the storm.

  Something in me snaps. I want more time with Elena. More stolen moments and intense kisses. More of her struggling to finish puzzles and me silently helping her.

  Staying away from her is impossible, no matter how hard I try. Not only because of our undeniable chemistry. It’s stupid to deny the pull I have toward her, this endless tug of war between my sanity and my desire. I want to be different—to change my life path for her.

  Most of all, I want to be normal with her.

  It’s not about our attraction to one another, but rather something deeper. Something I can no longer turn a blind eye to.

  I want Elena and I’m done pretending otherwise.

  After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, I make my way toward the kitchen, wanting a glass of water.

  The light sound of the piano playing steers me toward the living room. Mum rarely plays the piano nowadays, and I’d love to catch her tinkering away next to Dad like when I was a kid. Instead, I’m surprised to find Elena in the dimly lit living room.

  Elena sits at the piano bench by herself with her back facing me. I recognize Yiruma’s “River Flows in You,” but the sound is off.

  Elena swipes her sleeve across her face, sniffling over the music.

  I take a hesitant step toward her. “I didn’t know you played the piano.”

  She jolts. I close the gap between us, finding her phone resting on the music rack, playing the melody from YouTube.

  “Why sit at a piano and not play?” I wave my hand for her to scoot over.

  She offers me a weak smile. “I don’t know how to.”

  I’m tempted to find out the reason for her tears, but I choose against it after she looks away to wipe her face with the sleeve of her jumper. “Why this song?”

  “My mom loved it. She played but couldn’t convince me to try because I wanted to focus on ballet instead of her afternoon lessons. I wish I had, though.”

  I don’t miss her usage of past tense. Instead of pulling more information from her, I pause the video. I run my fingers across the keys before starting the song over again.

  Her eyes expand. “You play the piano?”

  I nod. “You’re lucky I know this one. It’s a classic.”

  Elena adjusts her body enough to get a view of me playing. I take a moment to gaze over her tear-stricken face. Her sadness makes me scowl. When a few tears fall down her cheeks, I turn back toward the keys, offering her privacy.

  The melody wraps around us as I play the song for her again. When I get to the second chorus, I amp it up, adding more notes. My fingers dance across the keys as Elena watches me.

  I only ever perform in front of Mum, but playing for Elena is invigorating. A moment I want to keep, unwilling to part ways with cheering her up. To erase the pain in her face even if it’s only for a few minutes.

  When the song ends, she moves to get up, but I grip her wrist. “Wait. One more.”

  She sits down again, looking stunned. A thrill shoots through me as I begin playing the first notes of a song that I think is perfect for her.

  Her face brightens once she recognizes Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph.”

  “I’m honestly not sure if I’m dreaming right now. Pinch me?”

  I pause the song and tug on her hair instead. “Do I usually appear in your dreams?”

  “Nope. Not dreaming.” Her back shakes as she attempts to hide her laughter.

  I focus on the keys, playing her a song reminding me of the hope she gives me. The crazy drive she stirs up in me to be better—to be more.

  More for her. More for me.

  The combination of us is deadly yet unstoppable. My self-restraint has hit its maximum, like a rubber band about to snap.

  Elena places her hand over mine after I finish playing the song. “Thank you.” A new tear trickles down her cheek.

  I hate them. Before she has a chance to leave, I brush the droplets away with my other hand. “Why are you crying, and how do I get you to stop?”

  Elena looks at me with misty eyes. “Hearing you play the song she loved, it stirs up a lot inside of me. The second one was an added bonus.”

  “Like what?” my voice rasps.

  “Everything. Happiness, pain, appreciation. So much is happening in my head I can’t make sense of it. But most of all, I miss her.”

  “I reckon you lost your mum?”

  She sniffles. “Yes. When I was twelve.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry to hear that.” The thought of going through life without my mum now makes me anxious. I can’t imagine growing up without one, to begin with.

  “I lost her and my dad on the same day.” She pauses, staring down at the keys. “They were murdered.” She exhales a shaky breath.

  I grip her trembling hand, clutching onto her fingers like the lifeline she needs. “Fuck.”

  “I was there. When it happened.”

  Holy shit. I don’t know what to say. Everything in me hurts at the thought of a child having to experience that type of trauma.

  “It was the worst night of my life. I was reading in my closet, hiding in case my parents checked on me before bed. But then my parents were screaming, and the gunshots happened. And then there was silence.”

  “You don’t have to say any more.”

  “No. I need to.” She takes a deep breath. “The men tried to find me, but I was hidden behind clothes and boxes. Once I was sure they left, I went downstairs, and I found them.” She pulls her hand away from mine and covers her face to hide her distress. The sob she lets out wrecks my heart, with me helpless as she falls apart. Nothing I will say can take away that kind of pain.

  “That’s why I don’t sleep in the dark. I get nightmares. In some, the men find me and kill me after my parents die. In others, my parents are shot in front of my eyes, with me not being able to stop the men.”

  I stand and pull Elena up with me, holding her to my chest, needing to keep her close. “We’ll eliminate those nightmares one at a time. Fuck it all and fuck anyone who tries to mess with you again.”

  Elena deserves someone in her corner, willing to protect her. The way she looks at me tempts me to be that for her. Except I’m no hero.

  And that’s what makes me devastating.

  29

  Elena

  I press my hands against Jax’s chest, wanting to process his words.

  He tugs my hands into his and holds them to his chest. His heart races beneath my palms. “I’m sorry I’ve been an arse to you. Fuck, I’m sorry for treating you the way I have. All of it. The partying, the pushing your buttons, the mean things I’ve said. You deserve better than what I’ve given you.”

  “I don’t want someone to care about me because of my life story.” I attempt to pull away from him, but he holds on.

  “It’s not because of your story. It’s because of who you are despite that story.”

  His words grip onto my heart and hold me in place. I don’t know what to say or how to feel about the shift in his personality. Sharing my story wasn’t meant to make him pity me. In all honesty, I have no idea what possessed me to share that dark part of myself with him in the first place.

  But I did. I wanted him to see the real me. Not the put-together version of myself everyone sees, but who I am when everything insignificant and temporary is stripped away.

  “Give me a chance to make it right.” His calloused fingers brush across my cheek.

  I can only nod in agreement.

  He leans his head, brushing his lips across mine.

  My lips tingle where his tentatively touch. A burst of energy spreads through my lower stomach, but I pull my head away to look into his eye
s. “You want to risk everything? For real?”

  “I’m risking nothing for everything. It’s different.”

  Well, how can I reply to that?

  Jax saves me, pressing his lips to mine. The warmth from my stomach spreads across my body as he traces the seam of my mouth with his tongue. The very tongue that takes ownership of me, consuming all my doubts about our connection.

  One of his hands loops around my waist while the other grips the back of my head. Our breathing becomes erratic as our kissing grows desperate, with teeth grazing one another in our haste.

  His hand dips to my butt before he tugs me flush against him. I moan into his mouth when his erection presses into my stomach. He nips at my lower lip before he pulls away. “I want you so bloody much, I don’t know where to begin.”

  My fingers trail up his chest, eliciting the slightest rumble from his chest. “I have an idea,” I whisper before I grip the back of his neck and tug him toward my lips. Our lips collide as I tear down the last mental barrier between us.

  Desire grows within me as we kiss to the point of oxygen deprivation. Jax groans as he tears his lips away, darting his tongue across the swollen flesh. He clutches onto my hand and grabs my phone from the piano stand before dragging me through the halls and up the stairs toward his bedroom.

  I remain silent until he closes his bedroom door. “So, this is it.”

  He flashes me a wicked smile that liquifies my insides. “No. This has only just begun.”

  I back into the bed as he places my phone on the dresser. He slowly walks toward me, prowling like a predator, with his gaze burning me from the inside out. The dim lighting peeking through his window offers us some guidance.

  He grips the hem of my sweater before tugging it off, revealing my cotton bra. Cue Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack.”

  Jax’s eyes remain on my chest. I attempt to cross my arms, but he swats them out of the way. He unclips the bra and chucks it over his shoulder.

  “Fuck that shyness. You’re beautiful.” His fingers grip the waistband of my leggings and drag them down slowly, making me shiver as his warm fingers trail across my skin.