The sane thing for me to do would have been to run in the opposite direction and flee for my life the second that I saw his bright blue eyes and bad boy smile. But I'd never been considered completely sane. So I stayed. I fell. I loved. And I broke.
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Chapter Eleven:
Gemma's name popped up on my phone and I grinned when I answered. "Hey, honey."
"You busy?" Her tone was clipped and pissed off, and I wondered who's body she was calling for help to dispose of, and why she wasn't calling my best friend.
I glanced at the clock that informed me I still had some time before I had someone in my chair. "Not overly, what's up?"
Gemma snarled something under her breath and then spoke back into the phone. "That bitch that left Jax, Tara? She's just pulled up at the clubhouse. I think it would be in your best interest to come over and make sure that she doesn't get her filthy fucking hands on him."
The idea of someone putting their hands, whether clean or dirty, anywhere on Jax made me feel ill.
It had been three months since the night we'd first made love, and I hadn't slept alone apart from when he'd gone on a run since. Even then, I'd slept in his bed at his house, and I had the comfort of knowing that we'd talked about the 'run rule' and we'd both agree that it didn't comply with our relationship.
My rental was sitting alone and neglected, empty since Larry had gone to Jax's with me and was a staple in Abel's bed. Even my guitar had found it's home in the corner of his living room, even though he'd never heard me play. Between his club shit and our time when he was home being spent with Abel, it had never come up, and I doubted he'd ever even noticed that it was there.
"Gem." I sighed into the phone and tried to push down my fear. "I can't get away from work right now to drive over there, but I trust him, okay?"
She grumbled into the phone before she snarled a deadly sound. "Don't worry about it, I've got your back. I won't let the little bitch get near him."
♔
Jax arrived home after midnight and I could smell the perfume on him when he crawled into bed. "Hey darlin."
My stomach sunk at the same time that I felt an overwhelming urge to cry, and I bit down on my lip when his arm circled my waist. "It's late, where've you been?"
"Club shit." He sighed into my hair. "I'm sorry, I should have called."
When he'd get home from the clubhouse, after Abel was safely tucked into bed with Larry and the house was quiet, we would spend hours worshipping each other's bodies. Jax didn't even try, and I was grateful for that.
We laid in silence, instead, his arm wound around my body and me crying silent tears into the mattress. At some point his breathing evened out and I knew he'd fallen asleep, but I couldn't.
I stared at the ceiling the entire night, unable to get a wink of sleep, and I got up when the birds started to caw at sunrise.
Jax woke up and gave me a sleepy frown. "Where are you going?"
