Perfect Redemption

Twenty One: In Which She Makes A Run For It (Literally)

Fuck, I'm so fucked.

I grip the sheets tight against my body, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed about last night. Dammit, I was not supposed to let this get out of hand. I told myself that I was not going to get involved with Jax. He fucked with my mind, my feelings, and now... he fucked me. Hard. Good.

Fuck, Blaire. Get a grip!

I seriously need to talk to someone about this. Otherwise I'm going to explode.

I have no idea what to do now. I feel like I've lost a sense of direction. I have no idea where I'm going now, my path is blurry and I can't see clearly anymore. I need someone to put me back in check.

I glance over to my side and sigh when I see Jax sprawled next to me, the sheets only covering the lower half of him. Half of face is buried in the pillow, his lips parted open slightly. He seems so peaceful and I realize I'm never seen him like this before. He always had this burden that he had to carry on his shoulders, but now, looking at him like this, I no longer see it at all.

"Jackson," I murmur, nudging his shoulder. "Wake up."

I wait for a response, but it doesn't come. He just continues snoring, shifting his position so now his back is facing me.

I roll my eyes.

Idiot.

Realizing that it's no use trying to pry him out of his sleep, I throw the sheets away and retrieve my discarded clothes as quiet as possible. The bra on the chandelier is the trickiest. I had to drag the chaise into the middle of the room and tip-toe on it to get that son of a bitch. Not cool. When I'm done, I make my way out of his room and the first thing I do when I'm in my own room is to lunge for my phone on the bedside table and dial Belle's number.

"Hello?" she answers groggily, her voice hoarse.

"Belle?" I say, wedging my phone against my shoulder as I brush my teeth. "It's me. Blaire."

"What-" I hear shuffling in the background. "It's like 7 in the morning, bitch. What do you want?"

"I... I did something, Belle. Something...bad, " I tell her, gurgling and spitting into the sink, then drying my mouth with a towel.

"I always knew you were a murderer," she whispers. "I mean, it's pretty damn obvious. You are a bat-shit crazy psychopath—"

"Jesus, Belle. I am not." I roll my eyes. "I swear I'm not."

"Then, what is it?" she asks. "Because if it's nothing important, I'm going to hang up on you. I need my beauty sleep, babe, and I'm not going to sacrifice it for something that I don't give a damn about—"

"I slept with Jax Deneris last night," I murmur, holding the phone.

A long pause ensues.

"Like sleep? Or like sleep sleep?" She asks softly.

"Jesus, Belle. Do I have to get specific with you? Jax and I fucked last night," I clarify. "We fucked. A lot. There was little to no sleeping involved."

I hear Belle take a deep breath. "I'll meet you at Caffeinated in fifteen minutes. And you're going to tell me everything, Blaire. Everything, you hear me? You do not leave a single detail out. I'll come over as fast as I can."

And then she hangs up on me.

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I order two cups of Caffeinated coffee for Belle and I, and then take our usual spot by the window.