27. Twenty-Seven
TWENTY-SEVEN
H arley
Lying on my back, I stare up at the ceiling. Jax is sound asleep next to me with his arm draped over my lower abdomen. I try to focus on the scent of leather and pine that surrounds me. It’s been a comfort for weeks now—one I never knew I needed.
But tonight, it’s different. I can’t seem to shut my brain off. No matter how hard I try, my thoughts always circle back to a place I know I shouldn’t be. Nothing could distract me from the voice screaming in my head. Not even the smell and feel of a man I should’ve never gotten involved with.
Carefully, I slip from beneath Jax’s arm. He surprisingly doesn’t wake even as I rummage through the bag of clothes I brought with me. I stand next to the open bag with clothes clutched to my chest, silently watching the rise and fall of his shoulders.
I don’t make a sound as I sneak out of his room. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I scoop up my converse shoes from by the door. I move through the house quietly. I’m practically holding my breath with each corner I turn.
I’ve explored enough that I know exactly where I’m going as I make my way to a room next to the garage. When I get to the desired location, I shut the door behind me and quickly strip out of the tank top I’m in and replace it with a sports bra. I don’t waste time slipping into the cotton shorts before pulling on a pair of socks. I know my converse sneakers aren’t ideal for running, but they’re all I have.
There’s a voice inside my head reminding me that it doesn’t matter how many miles I run tonight. Not when I have to see my parents in less than twenty-four hours. But the anxiety that crawls beneath my skin won’t stop screaming at me to run.
I push my headphones into my ears and walk directly to a treadmill. Sticking the key into the slot, I thumb through my playlists on my phone and press play on a Bring Me the Horizon mix. As soon as the music starts, I set the speed on the treadmill to eight.
I run.
Hard.
I push my body to the limit with every mile that ticks up the screen. I don’t stop. I run until my feet stumble on the belt. It happens too fast for me to recover. One second I’m up right, and the next?—
An arm the size of both my thighs wraps around my waist, effectively stopping my body from the beating it was about to take on the way down. For a second, I expect it to be Jax. I brace myself for the lecture I’m about to receive. The seventeen miles only eases my anxiety. It doesn’t stop me from feeling an overwhelming amount of disappointment.
“Damn girl. You good?”
I look up into familiar baby blues. Ross raises a concerned brow, waiting for an answer that won’t come. Not because I don’t want to tell him the truth, but because his casual question has me crumbling to pieces within seconds.
I’m not good . I don’t think there’s ever been a time I have been. The remote concept of happiness has never been within my grasp. Not until now.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters as the first choked sob crawls up my throat. “Jace!”
“Why are you?—”
“Get Jax. Now!” Ross snaps.
My vision becomes spotty as it grows increasingly harder to breathe. Ross lowers me to the floor and I can faintly hear him instructing me to put my head between my knees. But all that registers is the cold floor beneath me and a hand rubbing the center of my back as the sound of my heart trying to leave my chest echoes in my ears.
A sharp pain forms in the center of my chest with every breath I try to force into my lungs. Despite my head hanging between my knees, it feels like the entire room is spinning. All I can think about is how badly I want it all to stop.
Minutes stretch longer than I can handle before I’m being scooped up into someone’s arms. All it takes is a small inhale to know who cradles me to their chest. My hands cover my face, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
Two words sent the walls—walls that I’ve spent years building—crashing down. My whole body shakes with silent sobs as Jax carries me through the house and up the stairs. I hear doors slam as he kicks them shut, solidifying that what I’ve done made him angry.
It’s my fault.
I don’t realize he's stripping me out of my clothes and putting me in the shower until the water hits my skin. It’s the perfect temperature, forcing all the tension out of my muscles the second I’m beneath the steady stream.
I blink several times before I see the light of the bathroom. Dipping my chin, I stare down at his bare feet and mine. His left one is between both of mine, causing his body to brush against me as he reaches around for my shampoo.
I don’t argue as he lathers soap into my hair. He gently massages my scalp, and with each passing second I remind myself I don’t deserve the kindness. Jax follows the shampoo with conditioner, taking the time and care to run his fingers through each and every curl. I let my eyes land anywhere but on him.
I feel enough disappointment in myself for the both of us. Seeing it on his face is something I can’t handle tonight. When he shuts off the water and wraps me in a towel, I stare off to my left at the counter.
I can’t look at him, and when he stands me in front of the mirror, I realize I can’t even look at myself.