Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(16)

Suddenly Jax was directly in front of me. Like one second he was by the fridge, and then the next he was right there. I sucked in a startled breath as I pressed back against the counter.

“I don’t think you’re getting what I’m saying, honey.”

Obviously not.

“Your mom is cracked. You know that.”

Okay. It was one thing for me to say my mom was screwed up. Totally another thing coming from his mouth. “Look, my mom is—”

“Not going to win any mother of the year awards? Yeah, I know that,” he said, and my fingers curled against my palms. “She’s also not going to win any boss of the year awards, either. But you probably know that already.”

“What does any of that have to do with me staying here or not?” I snapped.

“You actually don’t need to be in this town, let alone at this house.”

My mouth dropped since I wasn’t expecting that statement. “What?”

“You need to go stay in a hotel for tonight, and then as soon as your car is ready, you need to get your sweet ass on the road, which will hopefully be tomorrow afternoon, and you really don’t need to come back.”

Okay. That did it. I’d had it up to here with everything, and I didn’t care that Hot Bartender Dude was probably the sexiest guy I’d ever seen or that he was nice enough to drive me here and buy me food. Or that he thought my ass was sweet and liked my legs.

I squared off with him, forgetting everything else. “Answer me one question.”

His brown eyes locked with mine. “Done.”

My voice dripped sugary sweetness when I spoke. “Who in the f*ck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

He blinked once, and then he tipped his head back and laughed. “You got attitude. You really do. I kind of like that.”

That pissed me off even more, and besides, that was also kind of twisted. “You can leave now.”

“Not until you get what’s going on here.” Jax planted two hands on the counter, one on either side of my hips, and then he leaned in, caging me. “I need you to listen to me.”

I locked up and was unable to remember the last time a guy got this close to me.

“Calla,” he said, and I shivered at how deep and soft his voice was as it wrapped around my name. “I don’t think you realize just how far gone Mona is and what that means for everyone who knows her.”

Air halted in my lungs. “How far?”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

His eyes continued to hold mine. “This house has been party central for the last couple of years. Not the cool kind of parties anyone with two working brain cells would want to go to. Police are here on the regular. This house has basically become a drug house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you find crack pipes stashed in some of these kitchen drawers.”

Oh my God.

“The kind of people she hangs with? They are the bottom of the f*cking barrel. Can’t get any lower than them. And you can’t get any shadier than them. And that’s not even the worst part.”

“It isn’t?” How could it be worse than my mom owning a crack house? I guessed a meth lab could be worse.

“She’s pissed off a lot of those shady people,” he said, and my stomach dropped to my toes. “Owes them a lot of money from what I hear, too. So does her man Rooster.”

Owes more people money? Oh God, that was bad news.

“Now I know Clyde probably doesn’t want you to know this, but I don’t think shielding you from the shit that’s going down here is the right thing to do. Mona’s got a lot of the wrong kind of folks gunning for her. The kind of people your mom is messed up with are bad news. The windshield?”

“What does any of this have to do with the windshield?”

“You came here first, right? Someone probably has an eye on this house, saw you, and decided to give you a good old-fashioned redneck warning. They may not realize yet that you’re her blood, but they know you obviously know her since you’re here. And hey, the whole windshield thing could be a f*cked-up coincidence, but I doubt it. Let’s hope they don’t realize you’re blood.”

Oh, holy crap on a cracker, this was not good. My chest rose sharply as my pulse kicked up. This had veered off from crap, straight into shitville.

“Yeah, I see it’s starting to make sense,” he said softly, almost gently. “It’ll get worse from here, especially if she doesn’t come out of hiding.”

Turning my head to the left, I heard his words. They sunk in, causing a shudder to snake its way down my spine. God, a meth lab would probably be better than this.

Oh Mom, what have you gotten yourself into?

Her life, what had become of it, hurt like a real physical burst of pain, and something that I long since believed was dead sprang alive deep inside me. A need I’d suffered with for so many years, an urge and drive to fix her—to fix Mom.

Two fingers landed on my chin, gently forcing my head center. My eyes widened as they once again connected with his. “They could use you to get to her.”

My brain immediately shut down on that. The whole thing was just too much. Mom stole money from me and some crazy windshield-breaking rednecks that were hell-bent on revenge. It sounded like a plot from a movie featuring a washed-up action star.