The mood walking back to our car is sullen, bleak, nothing like the celebratory vibe I was dreaming of when Jax explained his plan to me. Maybe it was a bit naïve to think that after a year we could just pop up and sweep her off her feet, but it hasn't exactly been a year. At least to us. I didn't lie when I told her we had always been there for her. It had been difficult with Rivers and Vernon dropping by all the time, but we still managed. Targeting ads at her best friend to get her out of the house, food delivery when we could get away with it; we were there. Even if she couldn't see us, she was never alone. She had Nicole and Rachel making sure of that.
"Dragging her out of there would've been a bad move," Jax says as he throws the car in drive.
"Pretty much, yeah. Terrible move if we wanted her to talk to us, stay, really any of the above," I snark. I don't mean to snap, but I'm frustrated. Seeing her dance with Jax, our future was so close. Plus, I'm starting to get hangry. I was so fucking nervous all day, I barely picked at my food.
"FUCK!" He shouts, slamming his hand into the wheel before quickly righting himself into some semblance of calm. His eyes are filled with the same manic energy coursing through me. Watching him loose it, even for a second is all it takes to realize the depths of his feelings for her. I'm not ashamed to admit that I thought it was merely a passing infatuation, an obsession, and curiosity fed by her captivating personality. Her absence just let it all fester, but no. She's dug her nails into him and carved out a space that's all hers.
"Nicole, you know, her best friend," I point out at Jax's blank stare. "She would've made a scene if Callie just disappeared on her. This was the right call," I sigh once I think about it. Our plan was naïve at best. "Think a week will be enough?"
"It's more than I'm willing to offer so it will have to be," he grumbles. Well, as close as my stone-faced friend gets. He's pouting on the inside, I can tell. His mouth is set in such a firm line that it would cartoonish on anyone else. He's giving off the vibe that he's attempting pyrokinesis. More glower than pout if I think about it.
I'm pouting. This is a perfect pouting moment. I'm hungry, tired, and frustrated with myself, Jaxson, and if I'm honest Callie. I get it. She's upset and has every reason to be but so am I. I took a bullet for her. We killed a man for her. Letting her go for good? Not happening.
After driving in close to silence, Jax's classical station does not count as music, we pull into some 24-hour diner in the sketchiest part of town I've seen. It's no Waffle House, but it'll work. I'm surprised we stopped given Jaxson's preference for healthier fare, but I'm grateful either way. I need grease, carbs, and a touch of questionable food safety handling to satisfy the churning in my head and stomach.
Despite everything, our booth in the back is clean and the laminated menus are all one page. They know what they're good at and they stick to it. Our waitress looks as rundown as I feel and I commit to tipping double. She can't be too far off from my own age and her limp ponytail and pale, dry skin have me wondering about how much difference there really is between us. It seems like neither of us really gets to see the sun all too much, living on the fringes of society, rarely seen or heard. Perhaps I'm thinking too deep, wallowing in my own depressive thoughts, but it doesn't seem too far off from life in the bunker. Ghosts, Riggs calls us. Him and Kace more than anyone with their recognizable faces.
"What can I get you two started to drink?" She doesn't bother to pull out anything to take our order down. With only us and an older guy at counter finishing up, it's not like she'll get us confused for another table.
"Any chance you have an energy drink back there?" I give her my best pleading face. I'm talking big eyes, small pout, think cherub. Though my outfit has me looking like a cherub that joined a motorcycle gang. Not my usual style, but Jax said I had to fit in at the club. "I'm not picky on brand."
"We have coffee, soda, apple and orange juice, milk, and water. No energy drinks, sorry."
"He'll live," Jaxson stares me down. "He'll have a coffee, decaf." He cuts me off before I can protest. "And I will have a hot water with lemon. Thank you."
"Thanks Taylor," I smile at her after reading her name tag. She offers a small one in return before heading behind the counter to fill our drinks.
"How are we supposed to get her back when she hates us," I whisper shout.
Taylor comes back over with our drinks and smiles again, the expression bringing a spark to her tired body. "Y'all ready to order?"
"Can I get a short stack of pancakes with strawberries, bacon, and scrambled eggs," I order, my mouth salivating at the thought. I bet their pancakes are perfectly fluffy.
"I'll have an omelet with spinach if you have it and tomatoes." Of course. Even here, he can't stop himself from ordering the healthiest thing. I'm surprised he didn't have it made with just the egg whites.
Clearly our own plan didn't work. It can't hurt too much to get a second, more like fifth opinion. "Do you have a second, after you put in our order? It's fine if you don't," I quickly add. Two dudes, dressed like us in the middle of the night? I'd stay away if I were her, and that's with the masks in the car. It's Jaxson's fault. Even when he tries to look pleasant, he's dead behind the eyes. He's lucky that he's pretty enough that most people brush it off.
"As long as it's not anything weird, sure," she agrees.
Jaxson side eyes me as she walks off. No trust. Have to admit it hurts. He really should have more faith in me after all this time.
Taylor wanders back over to our table, leans on her back foot, and then looks at me. Wiping my hands against my jeans helps, but I can't help running one through my hair as I start. "If you were to go on a break with a guy, mutual decision, and didn't speak for," I pause because there is no way to say this without sounding like an ass. God. we really fucked up. I groan into my hands. Jax kicks me under the table and I notice I just stopped talking in my moment of self-realization. Nice going Cupid.
"A year. A year of no contact where he could have contacted you, but you had no way of contacting him," he adds for me, before he resumes drinking his pretentious lemon water.
Taylor's hands are folded over her chest now and she's looking at us like we're the dirt under shoe. Maybe I should have mentioned this was a hypothetical situation.
"Yes, that. But then he shows up out of the blue, hoping to reconcile. You're pissed and tell him off. How would we be able to get her back?"
"You've got to be kidding right? A year and you want to try and get her back?" She scoffs before flicking her eyes between the two of us. "Wait. You said we. Both of you?"
Jaxson deadpans at me and he doesn't need to say the words aloud for them to ring loud and clear. I'm an idiot. Duly noted. All of the best men in anime are terribly oblivious with women too. Luffy, Natsu, Edward Elric, Asta. Truly it's just another sign I'm on the path of greatness.
"Yeah," I run my hand through my hair at the tiny lie. Two, four, not much difference in this scenario.
"If she had any self-respect, she'd tell you to where to take yourselves and call it a day," she sighs before she shifts again and leans both hands on our table. Even Jaxson looks up. "Since I would like a generous tip and I love a good grovel, I'd suggest not giving her a year's worth of space. A few days at most. Then, listen. Whatever was the cause of the break, make sure it's fixed. For the love of pie, make sure to apologize. So many guys overlook that simple thing, thinking if they just throw flowers at the problem all will be well. Not that flowers hurt, but they're not a cure all."
I'm making a mental list of everything she's saying. Flowers, apologies, space, Agent Rivers. Yeah, none of this is going to be simple, but Callie's worth it.
"You didn't cheat on her, did you? Because if you did, she's better off with out you. Can't forget cheating even if you can forgive it."
"No, God no. We'd never," I swear.
"Good, good. Well, that's all I've got for you. Good luck I guess. And tip your waitress," she jokes as she heads off to the kitchen.
Jax waits until she's firmly in the kitchen before he speaks again. "Enlightening conversation?"
"Better than your plan," I sulk. "She was going to stab you."
The creepy fuck just beams at me. "She did, didn't she? Think she would do it for real?"
Only this twisted fool would ask such a thing with a lovesick grin. Heaven help her when we get her back. I think he's gone a bit feral in her absence.
Needless to say, we tip well over twenty percent when we leave. All cash. We may be criminals, but we're not monsters.