Chapter 35 Jax
Listening to Faye tell me what her life was like the last five years was like a blow to the stomach.
The guilt I felt for being so resentful towards her for running away, it was unbearable.
The minute she told me it was the only way she knew how to deal with the pain, my resentment melted away like a coal mine.
The guilt I felt entrapped me for being infuriated with her for never calling when móeir passed, or even showing up for her funeral.
Faye was living a nightmare—she looked lavish to the outside world, but my girl was stuck in survival mode for so long, diminishing internally.
She was just trying to survive for Birdie.
She didn’t know how to quit, even if it cost her herself.
It made me despise Vadon even more. The way he treated Faye and then would parade himself around Cravyn City like he was the best father.
I wanted to throw this bastard around a few rooms like a rag doll.
How would he like it? The sound of his fragile masculinity, breaking within each seam of his wicked bones.
But she was right, if he found out about us he would try and make her life even more hell and I had seen enough of that.
She was mine; married, separated, single, her soul belonged to me.
I had to leave. I could feel my emotions getting the better of me.
I couldn’t tell her yet, it was too soon and she was dealing with too much.
I’d tell her everything when the time was right.
When Faye first got back to Grimstone she was skin and bones.
The life was sucked out of her. But, Faye was looking and seeming more like herself by the day.
She was mine again and I was determined to keep it that way.
Keep her happy and healthy. I wanted to protect her from this creep of a man who preyed on her vulnerability and her pain.
More importantly I wanted to protect Birdie, too.
Be a good father figure for her. It’s what they deserved and I wanted to be the one to give that to them. All good things take time, even death.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
Knowing Faye would be alone with this fuck in the middle of nowhere.
If I had to wait, then that’s what I’d do.
But I swore to the old gods if he even touched a hair on her head, I’d kill him.
Bury him right here on my farm as his bones turned to dust in my soil, while I had a picnic with his daughter. I’d be his Huckleberry.