Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3) Page 6

  Bouquets was easy to find, a quaint looking flower store on a busy corner. It was early and it had not opened yet, so I stood with my arms wrapped around myself in the freezing morning air for almost an hour before I noticed a woman approaching the door, searching through her bag like it was a bottomless abyss. She was startled when she looked up, but only for a moment.

  "Ella?" She said with a little hesitation. I was surprised she knew my name. She was beautiful with platinum blonde hair styled into an elegant fifties style twist on top of her head. Her skin was alabaster white, the kind of white that could only be achieved with a healthy dose of makeup. Her full lips were painted a deep red shade that stood out in startling contrast to the rest of her pale features. Her eyes were a striking blue framed with heavy black mascara and eyeliner that was artfully applied to create an upswept look to her eyes. She wore a figure-hugging red knee length skirt with a stunning white coat lined with fur over the top. She pulled off the pinup girl look with glamorous ease. I was jealous, she looked sensational. Rebecca was much younger than I had imagined. When Rita had mentioned she was a friend, I immediately thought of someone older, more Rita's age. But Rebecca couldn't have been much more than twenty-five. Rebecca smiled, eyes were full of fun and mischief, I liked her immediately.

  "I spoke to Rita a couple of months ago, she told me you might be passing through Claymont and you might need some work. It's nice to meet you, I'm Rebecca. Come on in out of the cold." As I followed her through the entrance, I was instantly hit by a wall of warmth. "I have to keep the temperature up to stop the flowers from dying," she explained. "And to keep my fingers and toes from freezing off," she added with a smile. I didn't care what her motivation was, it beat the freezing chill outside hands down. The shop smelt amazing, just like spring. Empty buckets and containers sat in every direction, waiting for the perfumed delights to fill them. “The flowers get kept overnight in a small room with a specific temperature control. A couple of years ago the thermostat went haywire and I lost everything, it broke my heart to come in and find all my babies dead.” Rebecca hung her coat on a hook behind the counter and began to slip an apron over her head and those generous breasts of hers. Glancing down at my own tiny cups I sighed. She was elegant, beautiful, dressed like a fifties movies star and had great boobs. It made me feel about two feet tall. "Would you like a coffee?" Rebecca asked.

  “Sure, do you have milk and sugar?” I shook my head, shaking off my self-depreciating thoughts of breast size.

  “Absolutely, I also have caramel. Please tell me you will let me put caramel in your coffee, or a shot of whiskey?” How could I say no to caramel? Sugar and sweets were my favorite food group.

  “Yes to the caramel, it’s a bit early for the whiskey.”

  "It is, but I had a terrible night last night and this morning I've got Mrs. Beaumont coming in first thing to order flowers for the Thanksgiving Ball and she is one A grade bitch, so I am going to need the shot of whiskey." I smiled at Rebecca's casual and easy potty mouth. At least she shouldn't be offended by my constant and uncontrollable cursing. The people I had met while living on the streets, in shelters and share accommodation and helped add a colorful array of words to my vocabulary.

  Bouquets was small and I imagined once all the flowers were out on display it would border on overflowing. Small nick-nacks sat for sale on shelves, some of them perhaps locally crafted trinkets. I liked it here. It was warm, smelt good and had a cozy feel. I didn't care if she had me sweeping all day, I wanted to work here.

  “Okay,” Rebecca handed me a steaming mug of coffee. After taking a sip I had to admit the caramel was a welcome addition. “If Rita vouches for you that’s good enough for me, I pay $9.50 an hour, cash. The store is open six days a week, but we won’t jump in and work you straight into a grave. How about Tuesday to Saturday, eight till five?" I nodded. It was more hours than I anticipated, and it meant I wouldn't have to find a second job. Rebecca smiled. "I always allow room for mistakes, but I expect you to learn from them. Me, I will never learn from my mistakes, I'm a glutton for punishment that needs my damn head examined, but hell, I'm the boss so I'm allowed." At that moment I wondered if she was talking about mistakes in the shop or life in general. Her eyes became a little distant and cloudy, and she seemed somewhat sad. "So, one mistake, we deal, two we get pissed, third time, you're out." She shook off her dejected moment and gave me a carefree smile.

  “What would I be doing?” I wondered aloud. It really didn’t matter, I wanted the job, but it seemed appropriate to ask.

  “Oh you know, the usual, shining my shoes, giving me hourly massages, pressing my linen.” I stared at her skeptically.

  "Will I be feeding your horse as well my lady?" I joked, and Rebecca laughed loudly.

  “Oh Ella, we are going to get along just fine. My servant boy will attend to the horse, you can clean, serve customers, answer the phone, normal stuff. It would be nice if you could help me with some arrangements. Nothing too tricky to begin with, maybe some pruning and binding bouquets.” I couldn’t dance for shit, but at that moment I wanted to boogie around the store like an adolescent fool screaming hallelujah! Instead, I settled for a more reserved nod and said, "When can I start?"

  Rebecca put me to work immediately and by five o’clock I was exhausted. I’d woken before five A.M and I had worked without a break. My own fault, I was told to take two breaks, but I was too nervous to eat. Rebecca locked the door behind us and smiled.

  "I don't care what you wear to work you will always have the apron over it anyway, but make sure you wear your hair back tomorrow. You will be working with some pretty sharp scissors and pruning clippers. We don't want you accidentally cutting any of that beautiful hair off." I nodded, but the thought of wearing my hair up unnerved me a little. It had become an important part of concealing the ‘real' Ella, if I was to wear it up I might as well have been strolling down the street naked. The thought terrified me, but I wanted this job. It was such a good job.

  “No problem,” I murmured.

  “You want a lift anywhere?” No way in hell was I going to ask my new boss to drop me off at a shelter for abused women.

  "No, I'm good. I'm not far from here, and I like to walk. I'll see you tomorrow." Rebecca jumped in her car and disappeared down the street. I pulled on my beanie and began the walk back to the shelter. It was an easy fifteen-minute stroll at most, but I was tired. I hadn't eaten more than a chocolate bar all day and my stomach growled angrily for food. I even felt a little light headed. The closer I got to the shelter, the dizzier I became and as I reached the front door, I faltered as the world around me swooped and spun.

  “Angel?” I don’t know if it was the shock of his voice or the fact that I was dead on my feet, but everything promptly went black.

  The first thing I realized was I was on the ground, no mistaking the cold, icy pavement under my back. My body automatically tensed. Had I been hit? Had Marcus found me; was he here to finish me off? Was he waiting for my eyes to open, waiting for me to find consciousness so that I wouldn’t miss the next blow? I couldn’t stop the shiver that racked my body and it had nothing to do with the seeping cold radiating from under me. Then three simple words brought me back, three simple words penetrated the cold and chased away the ghosts.

  "You're safe Ella." It was Jax, his voice firm but at the same time gentle, reassuring. "Come on angel, open those pretty brown eyes for me." Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I didn't want to. I was afraid, embarrassed. But that soothing voice demanded my compliance and slowly I opened my eyes. For a moment the world spun and I thought it might go dark again. Then I saw Jax, kneeling above me, a grin pulling the corner of his mouth into a cheeky smile. "There we go. And don't worry you're not the first woman around here to faint on me. Usually, they're screaming for me to get the hell away, though." I didn't want him away though. I wanted him closer. It had been a long time since I had let a man that close, in fact, it was before I had run from Marcus, and you could
hardly have called him a man. He had been a boy at seventeen years old, very drunk and highly inexperienced, who definitely gave me no pleasure, not even a cuddle once it was over. I wondered if Jax could give me what those boys had been unable too. I wondered if he could give me the care my life had long missed, I wondered if he could give me the safety I had been unable to find. But what frightened me even more was the sudden craving for the type of connection you could only get with an emotional and physical joining. Love, the deep, happily ever after, you are mine, and I am yours kind of love. It was something I had been denied, it was something I continued to deny myself. But lying here now with Jax by my side, I wanted all that and I wanted it badly.

  "Does your wife know you make women faint?" I wondered out loud. Where the hell had that come from? I was mortified, and Jax grinned, a big grin, dimples and all.

  “No doubt, if I had a wife she would be most impressed. Fortunately, I am not married.” Oh God, I almost sighed out loud. “Do you think you can sit up?” I didn’t want to, but I tried. Whoa, quit with the spinning already. Jax chuckled. “Okay, take it easy.” His hands pulled me back down again. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I had a chocolate bar at ten this morning.” Jax stared at me.

  "That was it?" He almost yelled and I winced. Yelling was a trigger. His big hands soothed my hair back from my face. Shit, my hair. I froze, unable to move or speak. I knew he had seen it when his thumb gently traced the small scar. "Angel, you need more food than a chocolate bar. You should have stayed for breakfast at least." Before I had time to realize what was happening, Jax had my backpack slung over his shoulder and he was lifting me from the ground. I tensed but held on to him none-the-less. His body was hard and warm and he smelled freaking amazing. With every ounce of stealth I possessed, I leaned in a little closer and took a deep whiff, hoping to god he didn't notice the crazy girl in his arms sniffing him like a damned dog. His arms felt like a cradle of comfort and protection as Jax carried me through the doorway into Mercy's shelter.

  “What happened?” Came the same steady sure voice I had met this morning. A small blonde woman with pretty grey/blue eyes strolled towards us, and I could see she was worried. She had a comfortable confidence in her movements; I envied that.

  "She fainted. She hasn't eaten today." Jax sounded slightly pissed, and the woman gave me a frown that told me she wasn't happy either.

  “I had a chocolate bar,” I quietly argued.

  “While I understand the importance of chocolates and sweets in a diet, it’s not enough angel. Ella, this is Mercy, my mother." He introduced me to the concerned tiny woman who stood before us. Jax had her eyes, albeit hers had a tinge of blue and when she smiled, I noticed the dimples, one and the same. Lord only knows where he got his height from, no doubt his father.

  "Well as much as I'm sure you would like to stand there all day holding her, go feed her." Mercy chuckled. "I'm on my way out, perhaps we’ll talk tomorrow Ella?” She said to me and winked at Jax. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk. Talking usually meant revealing things that I tried hard to keep to myself. Jax was now carrying me through the shelter and gaining the much unwelcome attention of the few women who still occupied Mercy’s during the day. Once we reached the kitchen, he carefully lowered me to a stool.

  “You’re not going to fall down again are you?” I shook my head. I still felt light headed, but I was fairly confident I was not about to faint again. Jax dropped my backpack at my feet and quickly turned to busy himself at the fridge. “Where’ve you been today?” He asked. I pulled my hair back over my face, hiding.

  "I had to see someone about a job. She wanted me to start right away." Jax stopped what he was doing and turned to face me, curiosity carved into his handsome features.

  “You got a job?” His words rubbed me up the wrong way. Did I look so helpless that I couldn’t get a job? Perhaps he thought I was stupid or something. I hadn’t graduated school, I had missed too much in my final few years to warrant a graduation, but when I was there, when I cared, I did well. I also read a lot. I loved books almost as much as I loved sketching. I could have been or done anything with my life, before he stole my dreams.

  "Yes, I got a job. I am capable of taking care of myself as much as having to find refuge in a shelter contradicts that idea. Now that I'm working I will be able to concentrate on finding an apartment. I haven't spent that much time living in shelters. The lack of privacy kinda' pisses me off." Jax chuckled.

  “Sorry Angel, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. I just know there isn’t a lot of work around at the moment. A few of the women who have been living here of late have had trouble finding a job.” His words were not said with mockery.

  “Well, I’ve never really had any trouble finding work. Washing dishes, sweeping floors, packing shelves. I’m not afraid of hard work or taking the dirty jobs that other people don’t want. But this time I had a friend who knew someone here. They put in a word for me.” Jax nodded and resumed to fixing me what looked like a sandwich. He brought it to the counter and placed it down in front of me.

  "Mary gets in soon. When she does, she’ll start fixing dinner. Have this now though, you need something in your system so you don't faint on me again," He grinned and grabbed two cans of coke from the fridge pushing one towards me. "So, where are you working?" He sat directly across from me and I found I couldn't hide from his penetrating gaze. I was nervous under his scrutiny.

  "Bouquets, it’s a florist." Jax smiled.

  "Rebecca Donovan, she's a good person, donates to the shelter yearly. You will be the envy of all the women in here. Her store is warm, and apparently it smells good." I couldn't help but smile at the memory. Yes, it did. Jax's smile turned into a slight frown. "Perhaps you shouldn't tell any of the other women just yet. They might feel a little dejected that you got work so quickly." I nodded. I had no intention of telling any of them anyway. I rarely made friends in the shelters, never stuck around long enough to make friends.

  "I just need to stay a couple more nights and then I will get out of your hair. I get my first paycheck at the end of the week and I will look for an apartment or share house right away." Jax shook his head.

  “Stay as long as you need angel. We have the room. Like I told you last night, today we’ve got two spare beds. Annie and Eli will be out of here in another week.” I was glad they were getting out of here. No child should have to live in a shelter, regardless of how nice it was. “They’ve been here nearly a month now. Eli’s a good kid, he’ll do well in his own space,” said Jax. I agreed, kids needed a space of their own, a place that didn’t comprise of thirteen homeless women plus staff.

  “You know, I’d like to earn my keep while I am here. I can’t cook but I can clean. Maybe I could help around the shelter for a few hours at night?” Jax shook his head.

  “You don’t need to do that.” I had almost finished the sandwich and I was feeling much better, stronger, more determined.

  "Clearly, but I want to. I am more than capable of pulling my own weight, and to be honest, I like to keep busy." Jax considered that for a moment then nodded.

  “Alright, I know Mercy would be grateful for the help. Mary did most the laundry last night, there is a tone of linen to fold and put away. You can help me clean up the kitchen. I can’t cook for shit either, so I always get clean up duty. I would appreciate the help.” I finished the sandwich and rinsed my plate.

  “If you point me in the direction of that washing I’ll get it sorted before dinner.” Jax showed me to the laundry and soon after disappeared, leaving me to the large pile of towels and sheets.

  Later that night, after my belly was full, and I was feeling more alive than I had felt in the last four years, I helped Jax tidy the kitchen. The dishwasher was full and the few pots and pans left over I washed and Jax dried. I had carefully slipped on the gloves over my scarred arms, hoping, praying that he didn't notice.

  "You
know, you look like you've done that before," Jax teased as I scrubbed a pan, suds up to my elbows. His grin was mischievous, and I found myself flicking the scrubbing brush in his direction. White suds landed on his shirt and for a heartbeat I panicked. What the hell had I done? Jax's eyes sparkled when he scooped up a handful of bubbles and flicked them back at me. What had just happened? I stared open mouthed and he grinned, that big honest grin that made his dimples show. His playful nature was far too addictive, and I found myself flinging more suds on him and soon we had abandoned the dishes and we were both sopping wet. I laughed loudly and the sound shocked me. Jax lost some of his smile, thoughtful reflection replacing it.

  “I like that sound, it suits you. You should use it more.” I blushed, the usual response around Jax now and I let my hair fall forward over my face. That was my answer for everything. Run and hide. It pissed me off that I did it because I was better than that, stronger than that, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Jax brushed my hair over my shoulder so he could see my face.