Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Preston
I’ve never played a worse game of softball. Every female figure who walked near the game caught my gaze, just in case they were Jax showing up with a smile and a story. In retrospect, I should have left when she was fifteen minutes late and hadn’t answered my three phone calls or Laurel’s two more after the game had started. I just kept expecting her to show up, with some explanation for her delay and a smile flashed my way. All my worries forgotten.
Except my worries grew and grew. As soon as the other team recorded the final out, handing us a loss, I jogged off the field. Laurel handed me my stuff. “I kept trying to get ahold of her. She said she needed to go home to grab a different pair of sneakers this afternoon. I’m sure she’s fine.”
I nodded, unable to consider anything else. I jogged the whole way from the field to our place, not able to remember the journey or if I stopped to wait for walk signals like I should have. I jammed my finger on the elevator button, trying to tell myself Jax would be waiting on the sixth floor for me. The sinking feeling in my gut told me otherwise.
I tried the door, finding it locked and dug my keys out. “Jax?” I called, finally getting the door open, throwing it against the wall with too much force. We’d laugh about that dent later, right?
I spun around in the middle of the room, as if I expected her to pop up out of a corner when I faced the right direction. On the second rotation, the bright white of the bed caught my eye. The blues and purples from Jax’s quilt were gone.
“No, no, no,” I said, rushing over to the dresser and pulling open her drawer. Empty. I wheeled around, looking at her bedside table. The outlines of dust from where her stack of books sat stared me in the face. I grabbed my hair, pulling on it, trying to engage my brain to think, to understand.
That’s when I saw it. A blue velvet box in front of the TV. I walked over and picked it up, my hands trembling. The engagement ring sat nestled inside. I snapped the box closed, clutching it in my fist before setting it back on the TV stand.
When I gave the ring to Jax three months ago, I didn’t think anyone would ever wear it for real. That I’d ever want to open myself up again. But boy, did Jax prove me wrong. That ring belonged on her finger. Maybe not now in this fake, set up sort of way. She was it for me. I just needed to make her see it too.
But first, I had to find her.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Hayden’s number. Why she would leave me without any clues to her whereabouts and tell my brother, I had no idea. But I needed to start somewhere.
Hayden answered, sounding distracted. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“Have you seen Jax?”
“No? Should I have?” I heard what sounded like the fridge opening, a glass clinking.
“Do you know if she’s texted or called Charlotte?”
“Charlotte’s gone this week, visiting a store outside Pittsburgh. Oh, that reminds me, can you ask Jax what that margarita place is her friend Michelle likes? I guess she told Charlotte about it and Charlotte’s dying to go. Thought I’d surprise her when she gets back.”
I rolled my eyes at how off topic Hayden got so quickly, obviously not picking up on my distress. But he was also a genius, because now I knew exactly where Jax fled.
“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll make that my first priority when I find her. Okay, gotta go now.”
“Wait!”
Hayden’s voice blared through the phone. I put it on speaker so I could talk and move at the same time.
“Yeah?”
“What do you mean when you find her? What’s going on?”
I let out a scream-groan of frustration.
“Jax has a secret identity that’s going to get revealed tomorrow. There’s a possibility it could be a strike against any future political career I have. I thought we were going to talk things over tonight. Instead, when I got home, she and all of her stuff were gone.”
“Wait, so she’s like a spy?”
Could I reach through the phone and strangle someone? I stopped to consider, pants half on.
“No, you numbskull. It’s her secret to tell and the whole world is going to know tomorrow, so I’d rather not participate in that, which I know is dumb, but I just...” I stood in the middle of my apartment, one pant leg on, shirt off, not sure what to do next, feeling like I might cry.
“Preston. Just breathe. Do you know where she is?” Hayden’s voice sounded calming and concerned.
“I think she’s at Michelle’s. She doesn’t have a ton of places she could go. So I’m going over there now to try to talk some sense into her.” My words shocked me back into action. Maybe I should have showered first? No time.
“Prez, wait. I know you want to see her. I can only imagine if I got home and Charlotte’s stuff was gone and I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure where she was... Well, I’d want to burn the whole world down too. But if she left without saying anything, she probably needs some time.”
I started to make sounds of protest, but he continued.
“No, I know. I’m not saying days or weeks. Just hours. Give her tonight. Besides, it’s almost dark and you’re not positive she’s there. You can’t just roll up at a woman’s place and try to break down the door after dark.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, not truly seeing the setting sun.
“You’re right.”
“When you’re feeling better, we’re going to return to this momentous occasion of you admitting I’m right. But for now, do you need anything?”
I sucked in a big breath. “Would you... would you come over? I’d rather not be alone right now, and maybe you can help me sort through things and figure out what to say?”
“Pretty sure speech writing is your wheelhouse, big bro, but of course. I’ll be right there. Have you eaten? Doesn’t matter. I’m bringing food. And beer. But only two each. You need to be ready to go win back your girl in the a.m.”
Hayden hung up without saying goodbye, clearly intent on accomplishing his to-do list and getting over here. Ironic he pointed out what I asked for help with essentially equated to writing a speech, but I felt all out of words when faced with the monumental stakes of the occasion.
I picked up my phone again, and opened to my text thread with Jax, wincing at all the unanswered messages from my side of the conversation.
Preston
Can you please let me know you’re safe?
The dots indicating someone was typing appeared almost immediately.
Jax
I’m safe
I stared at my phone for a few moments longer, willing the dots to appear again, for Jax to tell me a little bit more. Tell me she missed me, just as much as I missed her. That she trusted me to stand by her, weather any storm to come our way, now and in the future. She meant too much to me to just shake off and move on. A box left on the TV stand, closed like the end of a story. Our story. This couldn’t be the end.
The phone screen stayed stagnant, and I clicked it off. I hoped Hayden got here soon. It turned out I was hungry... and ready to bring my woman home.
H ayden made me promise I would wait until 9:00 a.m. before ringing Michelle’s buzzer. So naturally, I arrived at her address, which I had wormed out of Laurel with obscene promises I’m not sure I ever had a shot in hell to fulfill, by eight-thirty. I waited at a coffee shop down the street, deciding loitering brought more of a creepy vibe than I was willing to take on. Taking a deep breath, I checked on the article. Maybe no one wanted to read this morning.
Somehow, the article was already trending on The Dispatch’s website. Okay. Everyone wanted to read this morning. It looked like Buzzfeed picked it up as well. The comment section on The Dispatch was unsurprising, but made me sick nonetheless. I clicked over to the Buzzfeed article, hoping for better results. The title made me pause. “Why Are We So Afraid of Women’s Sexual Empowerment?” That sounded promising. I read on.
The article didn’t even mention me or Senator Marsden by name. It laid out the situation, Jax being allegedly tied to a pen name against her will. She worked for a political campaign, and she was engaged to someone with political aspirations.
But from there, it spun off in a different direction, discussing the history of the romance industry and the lack of respect it got from the literary world and larger world beyond. Experts were quoted, other articles were linked. It was an incredibly thorough article for something that only went live a handful of hours ago.
I scrolled back to the top of the article and recognized the top contributing writer’s name, Katie Beck as a source our office used when the senator wanted something discussed in the more mainstream media. Had he... the only way this would have been put together in time was if Katie was given a heads up The Dispatch article was coming. Interesting.
The article finished by saying whether Jax was June Kennedy or not, writers deserved their privacy for a whole variety of reasons, and to check out one of their books. The comment section here was much more positive. Some hateful vitriol still mixed in, especially because some of Jax’s books featured same-sex couples as the leads. Most excitingly, it was full of people saying they were planning to check out Jax’s books and share them with other romance-loving friends.
The alarm I set for 8:58 a.m. went off, and I drained the last of my coffee, energized to see Jax. My phone vibrated again, and I looked to see a message from Charlotte.
Charlotte
Hayden filled me in a bit about what happened. Hope you get to talk to Jax today.
If you do, make sure you show her this. At least half a dozen people have already sent me the Buzzfeed link today, without even knowing I know Jax.
The link Charlotte included led to Jax’s Amazon author page. I clicked over and saw several of her books were in the top 100 of their categories, and one charted in the top 100 of the entire Kindle store. If Jax wanted it, that open, successful career she dreamed of was within reach.
The resolve inside my body thickened like a lightning bolt to the heart. I wasn’t an idealist. You couldn’t have a career in politics and remain one completely. But I believed this situation wasn’t as dire as Jax seemed determined to make it to be. If nothing else, she needed to grab this opportunity by the horns for herself.
I hit the buzzer for apartment 2D, with no response. I jammed it again and again, recognizing I approached on nuisance status. Maybe she wasn’t here? When did Michelle leave for work?
I tried one more time, leaving the button depressed much longer than socially acceptable. Then I heard it, a tinny voice.
“Michelle Hammond’s apartment?” She sounded uncertain and little annoyed.
“Jax. It’s me.”
“Oh.”
Silence echoed through the vestibule as loudly as a jet engine taking off. I hit the button again.
“Please let me up.”
More silence, before a soft, “Okay,” accompanied by a buzzing noise, unlocking the door so I could enter.
The door to 2D sat cracked open slightly. I knocked and pushed the door open, spotting Jax pacing back and forth through the living room.
“Hey,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out for her. Seeing her acted as a balm for the part of me terrified since I realized she left. Anger and anxiety also churned in my gut—hurt that she would leave without talking to me and worry nothing I said would make a difference.
“Hi,” she said, stopping in her movements and turning to face me. Her eyes had dark shadows under them from lack of sleep, and her lip was red and swollen from her teeth. I wanted to bite that lip.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her arms wrapping around her midsection.
“Hayden mentioned margaritas last night, and I realized Michelle’s place was the most likely place for you to go. You probably looked for other sublets yesterday, but the idea of dealing with strangers felt too much, so you ran to the one familiar place you could.”
“Ha,” she laughed, the sound cold and void of emotion. “So you’ve got me all figured out. I assume you’ve got a solution to our situation all figured out, too. Does it matter what I want?”
“What?” I said, honestly bewildered. “Of course it matters what you want. If you really believe we have no way forward, then I’ll leave you alone. But I don’t believe that’s what you want. I wanted the chance to talk with you and figure something out together. That’s what hurt the most. You didn’t trust me to talk things through, to count on me to know myself and support you at the same time.”
“I don’t want you to resent me.” She burst out. “It’s easier to just end it now. That way you can have the career you want, achieve your goals, and I won’t stand in your way. I can’t be the reason you don’t succeed in the dreams you inherited from your mom. You can’t put that on me.” Jax’s voice broke at the mention of my mom, tears streaming down her face.
It physically pained me to not go to her. I put as much emotion into my voice as I could, wanting to make it impossible for her to not meet my eyes.
“Do you know what else I got from my mom? The idea that our family, our people are important. That’s why she cared about politics, about supporting causes. It was all about the people. I’ve lived twice as long without her as I did with her, but I’m certain she’d be so pissed at me if I let you go just because of a little hardship. There are lots of ways I can achieve the dream she left me. There are not a lot of ways I can imagine a happy life without you in it.”
I breathed heavily, like I had run a marathon. The surety I had in my words warmed me from the center, fighting away the cold dread of Jax’s distance. Now all I could do was wait to see if she believed me.