Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(106)

And just as important, even with my eyes all puffy and tears streaming down my face, I felt what Jax had said about me, something I’d felt when I’d stripped down for Jax.

I felt brave.

Sniffling, Teresa pulled back and she wiped under her eyes with the sides of her forefingers. “Now that we got all that covered, whose ass do we got to kick to keep you out of your mom’s mess?”





Twenty-six


Dawn was roughly an hour or so away when everyone cleared out of Jax’s townhome. Teresa and crew were still planning to tour Philly tomorrow, but as much as I wanted to spend time with them, it wasn’t smart and Detective Anders had looked like he’d lose his shit if I did go traipsing through the city.

Which really sucked, because I missed my friends, and there was more than one moment when I wondered if this would be my life now, not doing things because of this threat that really was hanging over my head.

Something had to give. I didn’t know what, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could continue like this without losing my shit.

However, Jax had come up with a great idea—a late breakfast or early lunch at the townhouse with everyone before they headed into the city and then most likely headed back to West Virginia. So I would get to see them . . . from behind four walls.

It was better than nothing.

I’d just changed into my usual sleepwear when I was finally, after hours, alone with Jax. He stood just inside the bedroom door and his expression was on lockdown, jaw tense and lips pressed into a firm line.

A sudden nervousness rose inside me, mixing with tendrils of unease. With everything that had happened, I hadn’t forgotten that we’d kind of gotten into an argument that was unresolved, but it hadn’t been on the forefront of my thoughts.

It now raced there, elbowing all the other stuff out of the way. It didn’t matter that the stuff with Aimee was no way near as important as everything else.

The intensity carved into Jax’s striking face held me immobile as he all but stalked forward, stopping directly in front of me. Our gazes locked, and I swallowed hard as he lifted a hand. Instead of touching my left cheek, something I’d been slowly getting used to, the very tips of his fingers brushed over my lower right jaw and then to the corner of my cut lip.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

I gave a little shake of my head. “No. Not really.”

The hue of his eyes darkened as he dropped his hand. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Well, I wasn’t going to argue with that.

He thrust his hand through his hair. “I didn’t even notice that you’d left. You’d had a gun to your back and I was right there, not that far away, and didn’t even notice. I should’ve known.”

“Whoa. Wait a second. This—none of this—is your fault, Jax. You were busy at the bar and I’m glad you didn’t see it happening,” I told him. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

Disbelief clouded his expression. “I could’ve gotten hurt? You got hurt, Calla. The f*cker hit you, and you’re worried about me?”

“Well, yeah . . . that and an entire bar full of people he’d threatened to shoot.” As soon as I said those words I could tell it didn’t matter. If anything, it ticked him off more. Moving away, I plopped down on the bed. “I’m okay, Jax. Seriously.”

“You had to bite a person. You had your mouth on some f*cker’s skin and bit down to defend yourself. How in the f*ck does that make you okay?”

“When you put it that way? I’m not sure.”

His jaw worked as he walked forward and knelt in front of me. “I promised you that you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Jax—”

“And you did.” His hands curled around the back of my knees and he tugged them apart as he leaned in. He was staring at my arm, and my gaze followed his. There was a bruise there, too. “I’m not okay with that. Fucks with my head—just the thought of what if. I’ve been down that road before.”

I didn’t get what he was saying at first, and when I did, I shook my head. “This isn’t like with your sister.”

Jax said nothing.

“You know that, right? I’m not your responsibility. Not like that,” I insisted. “And neither was Jena.”

He looked away, jaw clenched.

“Even if you were—”

“Calla,” he warned.

I ignored him. “Even if you were home, Jax, there would’ve been no what-ifs involved.”

“Just . . . just drop it.”

“No.” I was not backing down from this. “She would’ve overdosed if you were in the room next to her. You being there wouldn’t have changed the outcome. One way or another, she would’ve found a way.”

His gaze swung back to mine. “How do you know that?”

“Because I lived through it, too.” I held his gaze. “There was nothing I could do to alter Mom’s path and I tried. I tried a million times. You know deep down it would’ve been the same with your sister.”

Several moments passed, and then a deep sigh shuddered out of him. “I don’t know. Calla. That’s . . . yeah, that’s hard to really accept.”

“I know.” Oh God, did I ever know, and I also knew there wasn’t much I could say to really change whatever guilt Jax harbored. That was something that would take a lot of time, and he’d have to find that in himself.