Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Jaxon
I’ve never in all my life felt so… empty.
Though I’m not sure that’s the right word.
I don’t feel empty in the sense that I feel worthless or useless.
Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe this is what it’s like to start fresh.
To shed the stress and negativity, and start over.
Maybe this is what it’s like to feel normal.
It’s nearly one in the afternoon. I’ve been up for hours. Sailor is still sleeping. I contemplated going to get us breakfast, but the last time I did that, everything changed. So I order a grocery delivery instead, and I’ll make us food as soon as it gets here.
I took a lot from her last night, used her body roughly, spiked her adrenaline, and pushed her mentally.
She’s exhausted. But I can’t help but want to go in there and wake her up…
with my mouth, my cock, my hands, my words…
all of it. I just want to talk to her. See she’s real.
Because, even though she’s here, in front of me, doesn’t mean she’s mine again.
I mean, she is, she always will be, but I want her to want it too.
She needs to need this as badly as I do, the way it was before.
An alert goes off on my phone, telling me the driver is on the way with my order.
He should be here in less than fifteen minutes.
I go into the kitchen to find mixing bowls, pans, plates, and utensils.
Breakfast never takes long to make, and I need to keep myself busy so I don’t bother Sailor—even though everything in me is telling me to do so.
When the doorbell rings, I blink and realize I’m standing in front of the fridge with no memory of how I got here, or how long I’ve been staring into it.
Shaking out of it, I close the door and grab the delivery that was left on the porch.
I lay everything out on the counter and get to work making pancakes, bacon, and eggs.
I get the coffee pot going, and by the time I’m done, it’s two.
She needs to sleep, but she also needs to eat. So I plate the food, set it up on the table, and go into the room to wake her up. The moment I step into the room, she rolls over and looks at me sleepily, shock widening her eyes before the memories come back to her.
“Morning,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I made breakfast.”
“You cooked?”
“I know how to cook.”
Her smile is soft and sweet. I can’t help but reach out to brush the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“Come on,” I say, getting up and offering her my hand. She throws the blankets off, and I lead her to the table where the food is set up. “I figured you used the creamer in the fridge. I hope it’s okay.”
She looks into the mug and smiles. “It looks perfect. Thank you.”
I sit across from her, and we eat in silence. It feels weird, and I hate it. I don’t want it to be like this, and I’m not sure why it is. We need to talk, but I don’t know what to say. So, I keep shoveling food into my mouth like I haven’t eaten in a year.
When our plates are empty, I wash them and all the pans, dry them and put them back where I got them. I dry my hands on the towel, hang it up neatly, and turn to see where she’s at so we can figure things out.
I stop abruptly. She’s standing right there, not two feet from me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she says with a small smile that tells me she isn’t lying. I see the truth shining in her eyes.
“Are you?”
She closes the distance between us, putting her arms around my waist and resting her cheek against my chest. I wrap her in my arms, another wave of emotion hitting me. I don’t know what this is all about, but I don’t fucking like it. She lifts her head to look up at me.
“Do you want to be here?”
“Of course I fucking do. Why would you ask that?”
“You’re acting weird.” It isn’t accusatory, just a comment.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “I’ve been dealing with a lot.
Nodding, she puts her cheek back against my chest, and we stay like that for a long time. Each second that passes heals my broken heart just a little more.
She pulls away first, taking my hand and leading me back to the bedroom. She gets into bed, crawls under the covers, then flips the other side down and pats the bed. I slide in, and she scoots over to throw her arm over my stomach and rest her head in the crook of my shoulder.
“I’ve never done the cuddling thing before,” I admit.
“I’m glad I’m the first.”
“And last,” I say.
She looks up at me with a smile. “Let’s cuddle for ten minutes, then talk.”
“Sounds good to me,” I squeeze her closer to me, not wanting to let her go, and close my eyes, taking in the smell of her, the feel of her body on me, the sound of her soft breathing.
I don’t know how long passes, but I’m certain it’s more than ten minutes. I feel half asleep while awake, my body calmer than it has been in a long time.
“Are you sleeping?” she whispers.
I open my eyes. “Are you sleeping?”
She breathes out a laugh, and turns onto her back, but stays close enough that our sides are still touching. The air around us changes to something with a little more tension.
And I know it’s coming.
I’ve never been good with this… talking about feelings. Never had to do it before. That’s not the type of family I grew up in.
“We have a lot to talk about,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go first.”
“Okay.”
I’m glad she’s offering to go first, because I have no idea where to begin.
“I was wrong to flip out the way I did when all that happened, but I was scared, and didn’t know what to do. Running and telling you to leave me alone was wrong, but in a way, I don’t regret that I did it. I learned a lot about myself—and you—in our time apart.”
“Good things, I hope,” I say with a little laugh.
“Mostly, I think.” Her tone is serious, and she continues.
“I know you were watching me the whole time I was at Sam’s.
I know what you were doing to him, which—“ Her tone gets harsher and she pins me with a glare. “—is so wrong, and you better promise me right now that you’ll never do anything like that again to one of my friends. I don’t care who they are or what they’re doing, what we do is between us and us only.
I don’t consent for others, and I am not okay with that. ”
I can’t help but smile at her harsh tone. Like a little kitten showing her claws. I take her hand, kissing the back of it. “I promise, little dove.”
Her eyes shine at the nickname.
“It took me a long time to realize all of this, but Jaxon… I missed you so much.”
Fuck.
“I missed you too,” I say, my voice raspy.
She turns to face me a little more, our hands still linked.
“I want us to be together, I want to be with you, I want things to be the way they were, but… I’m scared.”
“Relationships are sc—”
“I’m not scared of a relationship, of commitment. I know I want to be with you, I love the way you make me feel. What I’m afraid of is what you did. I…” She shakes her head, her face pinching into confusion. “I get why you did it, it’s just hard to understand how you did it so easily.”
“If you grew up with parents like mine, you’d get it.
I understand why it scares you, but this is the life I came from, Sailor.
The life I’ve been trying to get out of for so long.
” I pause for a moment, then add, “I told myself I wasn’t going to tell you this, that what I did before we got back together—“
“You knew we’d get back together?”
I want to say yes. Tell her that I wouldn’t have stopped until it happened, but I need to be truthful.
“I hoped, yeah.” She smiles brightly again, and I continue.
“I told myself I wouldn’t tell you this because it would upset you, but I need to be honest with you.
It’s important for you to know what’s going on in my life.
And in order for you to understand why I did what I did, for you to understand me, you have to know all of my truths. ”
“I want to know,” she urges, giving my hand a small squeeze. “Help me understand.”
Nodding, I take a deep breath then dive into it.
“My mother was the leader of a criminal organization, the last one of her family involved in it. From the day I was born, it was mine to have, once she died. Problem is, I didn’t want it, but she kept holding it over my head.
She manipulated me and blackmailed me. She pinned things on me and threatened to tell the cops if I didn’t do as she said.
I’ve done… awful things for as long as I can remember.
Kidnapping you was the last straw though, because it wasn’t just me she was hurting anymore. It was someone else. Someone I loved.”
Her smile is soft, and she rests her head on my shoulder. She’s still here, and that’s good.
“She’s been blackmailing my father for years too, even though they’re divorced.
He’s been under her thumb since the day they met.
I’d feel bad for him, but he’s a dick too.
” I take a deep breath, trying to keep my shit together, and continue.
“Anyway, after you left, she disappeared. Vincent, her secondhand man, took over. We became sort of friendly, but he too ended up using me, like they all fucking do. They needed my mother dead, and it somehow became my responsibility to do it. I’m so fucking tired of all these people using me and blackmailing me and not giving me an option to how I live my life.
But I knew if I could just get rid of her, it would be over.
I’d be done. So I found her, and…” I swallow hard, knowing the next words are going to upset her, but I have to be honest.
“You did what you had to do,” she says before I can say anything.
I whip my head in her direction. She looks up at me.
“You… killed her, right? Because you had to? To be free?”
I nod once. “To be with you. To keep you safe.”
She looks away, down at our hands that are still together.
“I have a confession to make,” she says, and her words turn my stomach.
What the fuck could she possibly have to confess?