Elizabeth (Seven Years Ago)
This has to be what Heaven feels like.
My head on Jax's bare chest as I work to catch my breath. Our legs tangled up in bedsheets and in each other. His arm draped protectively around me as my whole body aches, battling between exhaustion and wanting to feel it all all over again.
I'm almost scared to move. To disturb the peace. Like saying or doing the wrong thing will send the world crashing down around me and I'll be on my own again. I'm not sure if I'm more scared of being alone, or being without Jax, but both thoughts leave me paralyzed as I lay next to him.
His fingers trace every curve of my body from my hips to my head, leaving a gentle tingle in their path. When he gets to my elbow, he tilts my arm and eyes the oval scars on the inside of my bicep. Four perfectly round purplish spots. I flinch, and want to pull away to avoid what comes next, but for some reason, I don't. I don't pull away, I don't move, I hardly even breath as his thumb brushes across the thing, stretched skin.
"You know," Jax presses a kiss to my forehead. "You can talk to me about this if you want to. You don't have to, but you can."
My stomach is in knots as images roll through my mind like a movie, playing back parts of my life I've fought long and hard to bury. In the few months Jax and I have been together, there aren't many parts of myself that I haven't given to him, but this is one of them. My past, the things that happened to me, what I lived through--I keep it all close to my chest.
It's not that I don't think he can handle it. Jax thrives in darkness and chaos and my experiences probably don't hold a candle to the filth he's seen, but it doesn't make this conversation any easier. He knows the cliff notes of my past, but this...this is something else entirely.
My chest tightens with an all too familiar fear. A fear that I don't belong here. A fear that I don't deserve Jax. A fear that at any moment, he'll realize it. I'm not the polished, old family money type of girl that he's supposed to be with, and Marlena never lets either one of us forget it. These scars... they're just further proof and once the truth is out there, there is no taking it back.
Jax doesn't push, and that almost makes me want to tell him more. He's not demanding, he's not dictating, he's leaving it up to me.
"I, um..." I bite onto my lower lip. "My last foster father..."
Jax's whole body tenses. "He did this to you?"
I hesitate, but nod. "At first it was his idea of punishment, but then he started doing it just for fun. He'd start the stove and hold a spoon onto a burner, and when it was hot enough, he'd press it into my skin."
"Jesus, Lizzie..." Jax looks away, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "What else did this bastard do to you?"
I don't answer, already feeling nauseous from my admission. Jax doesn't pressure me for more, but a look of pity washes over him and it breaks my heart.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to look at me like this. Like I'm damaged and broken and weak and..."
"Lizzie, stop." He puts his finger to my chin, forcing my eyes up to meet his. "You are not damaged or broken, and you're certainly not weak. I'm looking at you like this because I'm in awe of you. Of how strong you are and everything you've overcome. And because it fucking wrecks me that someone asshole did this to you, and I wasn't around to protect you."
"Jax, it's not a big deal." I try to brush it off, but he's having none of it.
"Yeah, it's a huge deal, Lizzie. And I'm so sorry you had to live through that, but I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making sure no one ever hurts you like this again, okay?" Jax kisses my forehead again holding me tight against his chest as he strokes my shoulder. "You're never going to have to know pain again as long as you live. You're my girl now, and I'll move heaven and earth to keep you safe."
A smile pulls at my lips as I lay with him, my breathing finally evening out and the heaviness in my mind dissolving. No one has ever called me theirs before, and when Jax does, it fills me with an overwhelming sense of security. Of warmth. Of identity. I nearly fall asleep, but when Jax gets up, I stir. "Where are you going?"
"I told Frank I'd come by for a few minutes. We've got a run tomorrow and you know how he is about last minute details..." He flashes me a sleepy smile. "Try to get some rest, okay? I have plans for you when I get back."
Jax's lips brush against mine and then he's gone. Just before he's out the front door, I hear him on the phone. "Get me the name and last known address of Lizzie's last foster father."
My stomach lurches. Half of me wants to shoot off after him, but the other half is bursting at the seam with pride. All of my life, I dreamt about having someone who would stick up for me, protect me, love me in the way Jax does. I know what's coming for that asshole. Jax won't hold back and, it might be wrong, but the thought of that excites me. What is happening to me? What kind of person am I turning into?
For a few minutes, I lay awake, wondering if I should go after him or try to stop him, but don't. I must eventually fall asleep, because the next thing I know, Jax is slinking back into the bedroom.
He peels his sweatshirt off and tosses it onto the floor. A hint of moonlight hits it and I catch a glimpse of what looks like a blood stain, and when I look up, I notice he's got a swollen lip.
"Jax, are you okay?" I front, propping myself up on my elbow. "Did something happen?"
His gaze falls on me, and he hesitates, as if he isn't sure if he wants to tell me the details. Do I even want to know them? Feelings of guilt and relief volley back and forth in my mind.
"Everything is fine, Lizzie. Great actually." He smiles. "I'm going to shower, and then I'll come back to bed."
"I love you." I say.
"I love you, too, baby. More than anything in the world."