Find Me : The Poison Ivy Series Book One

Chapter 21

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Iwake sometime later, stretching before I open my eyes. My hands reach above my head, and I expect to feel the side of the car door above me. But instead, I’m met with a soft pillow and leather headboard, which means I’m no longer in the car. As I bolt upright soft black sheets fall off my body, sheets that are not mine. The bed is low, and I wince in pain as the hardwood floors meet my battered feet as I stand up, desperately trying to figure out where I am.

The room is huge. The ceiling reaches higher than I can fathom, and one wall is comprised entirely of windows, the clear glass giving an unobstructed view of the city below. A soft glow radiates from the lamps framing the bed and highlighting the leather headboard set against a wall made of concrete. I turn around to see bookshelves taking up space on the other side of the room, next to a leather chair and side table that faces the bed. This has to be Jax’s room. It feels like him, the mix of warm and cold, as industrial and cozy accents mix together expertly to create something unique. Just like him.

I go to the door, turning the handle to pull it open, only to be met with absolute resistance. No matter how hard I pull, the door does not budge, and the handle remains stuck in place.

Was I …? Did he …?

I bang on the door, struggling to believe that he would lock me in his room.

“Jax! Let me out of this room!” I yell.

To my surprise the click of a lock sounds, and the door swings open quickly. I step back as Jax’s presence fills the room, his facial features hard and not the soft welcome I am accustomed to.

I don’t know what to say as he shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he surveys me intently.

“Why am I locked in your room?” I say, my tone demanding answers.

“I think you know the answer to that yourself, love,” he says, no hint of teasing in his voice as he steps towards me.

I mirror his steps, backing up until my knees hit the bed, sitting down as he towers above me.

“You know,” he says quietly, looking me up and down, “I’ve pictured you in this bed for quite some time now, but it looked a little different than this in my head.”

“Different how?” I ask, flushing at the realization that I am actually on his bed.

He leans into me, his lips brushing mine before moving towards my ears.

“Different as in I didn’t anticipate needing to scour the city before finding you coked up and wandering the streets barefoot after running back to the guy who did all of this to you in the first place,” he whispers, a deadly calm taking over his voice.

I can’t help but pull away slightly at his tone, and when I do, I’m met with emerald green eyes seemingly on fire, the rage behind them barely contained.

I recoil at the sight, and Jax must notice the fear in my eyes, his own softening slightly at my reaction. He takes a deep breath, seemingly to steady himself.

“You have nothing to fear from me, love,” he says quietly, “You are one of very few people who can claim that.”

I loose a breath in response.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, unable to look him in the eyes, guilt coursing through my veins now that the high has waned from my system. “I’m sorry I did this again.”

He sighs.

“I know. I know you are. But you ran back to him. To him, love. Do you know what I thought when Ryan told me you were missing? When I specifically told you to stay by him to be safe? Only to find you wandering the streets, high out of your mind again? I thought… I thought…” He pauses, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

“I know what men like Rhett are capable of. I knew it the first night I saw you with him, how he looked at you, how his friends looked at you.” He takes a shaky breath. I have never seen him so out of control of his own emotions before. “And after what we did to him… I should have killed him to eliminate any threat against you. But against my better judgment, I didn’t. I listened to you because, for some reason, I am completely and utterly yours to command. So, when you were missing, when Ryan said you were on his side of town, and when we couldn’t get ahold of you, I figured Rhett had done something to get revenge after we gave him a beating to remember. I thought I would find you and you’d be…” He trails off, unable to say the words out loud.

“It wasn’t like that Jax,” I start quietly. “I went to his apartment, he left, and I sat in the hallway alone.”

“It could have ended very differently,” he warns. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Rhett has enough common sense left in him to know not to touch what is mine.” His hand touches me tenderly, sweeping across my cheek, as if he needs to convince himself that I am sitting here in front of him, completely whole and unscathed.

“I know, I know,” I say, my heart feeling heavy as the guilt of my choices weighs me down. “Trust me when I say you cannot be more disappointed in me than I already am. I’m sorry Jax, truly, and I promise I won’t do anything like this again. It was so stupid of me, and I can’t figure out why I keep making stupid mistakes.” Tears fall quietly down my cheeks, and I brush them away slowly.

“I think it’s more complicated than that,” he says, his smile forced. “I think sometimes we’re so used to being hurt that we find ourselves crawling back to those who we know will hurt us, wanting to see them throw the first punch rather than walk on eggshells waiting for a punch we don’t see coming, even if it never comes. We get so used to living a certain way that, sometimes, it’s easier to go back to what we’re accustomed to than to adapt to living differently.”

“That’s a bit fucked up,” I say, though I know he’s right. It’s easier to go back to what I know, what I expect, than to try and walk through unchartered territory.

“I won’t do it again,” I say quietly. “I promise. I know you were just trying to keep me safe, and I know I messed up, and I’m sorry for putting you through that.” My heart is racing as desperation grows within me, and I find myself needing Jax to accept my apology, wanting to make things right between us again. A mixture of guilt and anxiety swirls in my chest as I wait for his response.

“I know, love. And I know you won’t do it again. You can stay here this time, until you have a handle on everything. Ryan and I can keep a closer eye on you, and I’m sure you’ll find my room just as comfortable as yours,” he says. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, so try to get some rest. There’s a shower and bathtub through that door over there if you want to freshen up. I grabbed some of your clothes from your place, and you’ll find them in the drawers, but please feel free to opt out of wearing any clothes if you desire,” he says jokingly, his attempt to lighten the mood causing a stir of desire within me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I have some business to attend to, but I’ll see you later. Ryan will be outside the door if you need anything. And just in case you are wondering, these windows don’t open so don’t even think about it, love.” He winks at me, kissing me on the forehead before making his way back to the door. “If you need anything just knock.”

“Just knock?” I repeat out loud. Surely he can’t mean…

“Don’t you dare lock me in here!” I yell as I hop up from the bed, rushing to the door as he steps out of the room.

The lock clicks just as my hand grabs the handle, the metal cold and unmoving against my palm.

“Jax, let me the fuck out of here. You cannot do this!” I yell angrily.

“I’m keeping you safe, love. You can stay here until I feel you are not a danger to yourself anymore.” His voice is slightly muffled through the closed door.

“Stay here? I’m locked in a room. This is kidnapping!” I scream back at him.

“Semantics,” he says, the calm in his voice irritating me to my core as the door I’m pushing against doesn’t budge an inch.

“Let me know if you need anything, Evi.” Ryan’s voice floats calmly through the door.

What is it with these guys? How are they so calm despite everything going on, despite actually holding me hostage?I ask myself quietly.

I huff in response and hear Ryan chuckle through the door.

My mind and body are a mix of emotions, and surprisingly I realize not all of them are bad. My feet hurt, my body is sore, and the frustration of being locked in this room makes me clench my fists, opening and closing them slowly. But underneath that, underneath the outer turmoil, there’s a level of calm starting to flow within me, as if my body registers that I know I’m safe here, that I know Jax and Ryan will never let anything happen to me.

I turn around, taking in more of the room I’m stuck in. I have to give Jax some credit, his room is incredible. In terms of being stuck somewhere, this really isn’t the worst place to be. I venture into the bathroom to find a gray stone standalone tub in the middle of the room and a huge shower with floor-to-ceiling stonework. I walk over to the tub, turning on the faucet, the hot water slowly filling it up.

I remove my clothes gently, leaving them in a pile in the corner of the room, unsure of where to put them.

I rifle through his drawers, looking for something to put in the tub, and it doesn’t take me long to find bubble bath. One of the most feared crime lords has a bottle of bubble bath in his vanity. I shake my head and can’t help but smile at how unexpected Jax can be. How multifaceted he is, yet he only shows one very hard side of himself to most people.

I step gingerly into the tub, the hot water biting at my raw feet, and sink down slowly. The tub water quickly changes color as I scrub the grime off of me.

I stay in the tub for ages, draining it and refilling it until the water remains clear. I pick up the bottle I placed beside the tub, dumping a generous amount of bubble bath in with me, reclining as the soft bubbles grow steadily.

I close my eyes and let my head rest against the back of the tub. Despite everything that has happened, I’m finding it impossible not to relax right now, and I find myself in a sort of limbo, not quite asleep but definitely not awake.

A cough startles me from my thoughts, and I jump to see Ryan in the doorway.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he says. “I knocked on the door a few times and you never answered me.”

“I am bathing, clearly.” I snip back at him, annoyance in my tone as my hands move quickly to cover any areas the bubbles might not. “You can leave now… or do you make it a habit to sneak up on women in tubs often?”

“Not usually, but this whole situation is very unusual,” he says gesturing vaguely, a sparkle in his eyes and humor in his tone. “I was worried you had tried to make another run for it, you seem to have a tendency to try and get yourself killed lately.”

“You’re hilarious,” I say drily.

“I thought you might try to sneak out the window again,” he continues.

I roll my eyes in response.

Ryan pretends to look offended. “What? I wouldn’t put it past you to try.” He smiles.

“What do you want anyway?” I ask. “Or are you just going to ogle me from afar while I try to relax?”

“I’m hardly ogling you. I was just checking in on you. After all, last time I let you out of my sight you kind of went AWOL and I ended up spending the better part of a morning searching the city for you in case you forgot.”

“Seeing as that was just this morning, I remember perfectly fine thank you.”

“Just checking,” he says with a wink.

“You’re annoying.”

“I’ve been called far worse.” He smiles at me, before continuing, “But seriously, how are you feeling?”

“I feel…” How do I feel? “I feel okay, I think,” I continue. “I think I’m still slowly coming down off of whatever it was I took—those pills—I don’t know what they were. They made me kind of euphoric so they mustn’t have been too bad.”

“I don’t know what you took, but it made you talk a lot. You were having straight up conversations with nobody in the back of my car.”

“I was not.”

“Scout’s honor,” he says solemnly.

“I thought I was sleeping?”

“Sleep talking maybe, or hallucinating, who knows. But you kept talking even when you were in bed here. It was like you were dreaming, but out loud.”

“Oh my god, please tell me I didn’t say anything embarrassing.” My cheeks flush as embarrassment sweeps over me.

“Like how you find me extremely handsome with an irresistible personality?” he jokes. “You said a lot Evi, but nothing Jax or I will ever hold against you. You can talk to us about anything when you’re ready. And until then, nothing you said will ever leave these four walls.”

I nod, feeling quite undeserving of the loyalty they have both shown me, and uneasy about what I could have confessed in my drug-fueled state.

“Thanks,” I say quietly, unsure how to express my gratitude. “I appreciate everything you guys have done. I do. I just struggle to accept it and I don’t know why.”

Ryan leans against the doorway for a few seconds before responding.

“Sometimes the people we surround ourselves with are a direct reflection of how we view ourselves, Evi, and it sounds like how you think you deserve to be treated is very different to how Jax and I think you deserve to be treated.” He muses.

“You don’t always have to be so wise,” I say jokingly, as his words resonate with me.

Ryan pushes off the wall. “I can’t help that I’m the smartest out of all of us, love,” he teases.

“Oh, don’t you start with that now,” I warn him before shooing him out of the bathroom so I can get out of the tub.

I dry off, wrapping a towel around me before searching for some fresh clothes. I find them quickly enough, throwing on a loose shirt and a pair of pajama shorts before finding a comb to brush out my hair.

My wet hair falls behind my shoulders, slowly dampening my shirt. I stare at myself in the mirror as I slowly untangle a particularly stubborn knot. I’m paler than I remember being, my freckles standing out starkly against my skin. My eyes are still the same, bright green and framed with long lashes. But there is something more to them now, a shadow of uneasiness behind them and darkness beneath them.

I finish with my hair, walking to the bedroom door quickly and knocking. A few seconds later Ryan opens it.

“What am I supposed to do in here besides be alone with my own thoughts?” I ask.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he replies. “Be right back.”

A couple of seconds later, Ryan walks in with some blank canvases and painting supplies, clearly raided from my own stash.

“We thought you might want this in case you got bored,” he says. “I’m not sure what time he’ll be back.”

“Thanks, this means a lot,” I say earnestly as I pick up the brushes and paints, setting up a space in the corner of the room by the window, overlooking the city below.

Ryan still stands in the doorway, casually leaning against the wooden frame as he watches me set everything up.

“What kind of work is he doing right now?” I ask, feigning innocence. My heart’s pounding, knowing I’m purposefully trying to cross a line and figure out what exactly his work entails today.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you that,” Ryan replies quickly.

“And you know I’ll find out from you now or him later,” I say with a shrug.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Has anyone told you you’re extremely difficult sometimes?”

“I’ve been called worse.” I shoot back with a smile.

Ryan nods. “Well, I guess it will give you some time to process if I tell you now.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what I hear,” I muse quietly, my heartbeat the only sound I can hear.

“Because you won’t. Jax has urgent business with a man name Royce Collins.”

I freeze. Surely he did not just say Royce Collins. As in Royce.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” I say, whipping around to face Ryan, my heart absolutely pounding.

“I wish I was, given last night’s argument and all, but I’m not. Jax ran a background check on Royce, and it seems his bad habits have continued over the years… We found out something about him that is… unforgivable. And trust me Evi, when Jax says that he will burn cities down to protect and avenge those he loves, he isn’t lying.”

My stomach drops at the information Ryan just laid out before me, and I wonder what Royce did since I last saw him that could be so unforgivable.

I’m caught between curiosity and dread, my mind going a hundred miles a minute, knowing that I’m not going to like whatever it is that Ryan says next. A familiar feeling of frustration begins to bubble to the surface, my fists clenching in response as I steady my breathing.

“You look like you want to murder someone,” Ryan says lightly.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I just need time to think,” I say.

“Okay, I can give you that, as long as you promise you won’t end up on a walk.”

I shoot him a look that could kill, and he gives me an apologetic smile before leaving the room, the lock clicking shut behind him.

I pick up my paints, dipping my brush into blacks and grays, and slowly incorporating some blues. As my brush strokes the canvas, I find myself in an almost meditative state, thinking about my conversation—or argument—with Jax last night. I know he had been right; I can see that and admit that, but I can’t help but wonder what it means if I acknowledge all of this out loud.

What does that say about me and how does this change the meaning behind this experience when I was younger?

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, knowing that any visit Jax has with Royce will not be a pleasant one. I try to remind myself to stay calm, to refrain from jumping to any conclusions until I speak to Jax when he gets back, whenever that might be.

I pick up another paintbrush and dip it in the paint before me, and I stay like this for hours, the sound of the paintbrush soothing me as it moves across the canvas with slow, intentional strokes.

My mind shifts from thoughts of Royce to everything else that has been going on. The more I paint, the more I seem to work through. I start back at the beginning of the year, dropping out of school, being cut off from my family, and working at Poison Ivy. I think about Rhett, about the men that came before, about Jax, and Ryan. I think about my friends at work, about Sam, and about the drugs. There’s something about painting, the way control and surrender dance together, that is mesmerizing to me. I love how I can choose what I want to paint, the colors I’ll use and the process I’ll take. And yet, in the end, the paints have a mind of their own, sometimes turning into something completely unexpected. I think about this as I think about my life: the decisions I made and the paths I took, while seemingly ending up somewhere I did not intend to be.

I pause, taking a moment to study the canvas in front of me and my life currently, realizing there’s no way to undo what has been done. Just like with a blank canvas, once the paint has touched it, you can’t erase it. Sure, I could paint over it, but it’s still there, just no longer visible.

Perhaps Ryan’s wisdom is rubbing off on me after all.I smile and roll my eyes at the thought.

I paint into the early hours of the morning until my eyes can barely stay open, and a light sweat and tremors appear again, right on schedule.

I wander to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face before brushing my teeth and crawling into bed.

The vastness of the room feels eerie in the dark, and I feel exposed by the lack of curtains and the ceilings that are so tall I struggle to make out where they end in the darkness of the room.

The sheets are like butter against my skin, cool and silky. And despite my best efforts, I drift off to sleep while thinking about how nice it would be to have Jax curled up behind me keeping me warm.