Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3) Page 7

  "What happened here?" He asked, his thumb gently tracing my scar again. His touch could not be ignored and the only thing I found frightening about it was the fact I wanted it more. I also found myself wanting to confide, wanting to unburden myself of the secrets that poisoned my soul. "You don't have to tell me if you would prefer not to. No pressure." Little did he know that at that moment, I did want to tell him. My secrets had been my own for so long, maybe it was time to let some of them go.

  "I hit the corner of a table," I offered. Of course, it wasn't the whole story, and Jax raised a dark blonde brow.

  “Was that before or after he hit you,” he asked me matter-of-factly. I hesitated and finally cleared my throat to speak.

  "After," I murmured. Jax was silent while I finished the dishes. Quickly I pulled off the rubber gloves and tried to pull my long sleeves back into place. Jax was too perceptive though, it seemed this guy heard, saw and knew everything. He carefully grabbed my hand, and I flinched. His penetrating gaze observed me as he continued to hold my hand in a weak grip that I could easily break.

  "I won't harm you, angel. This?" His thumb traced the scar on my wrist. My heart hammered. I didn't want him to think I had tried to kill myself and I especially didn't want him to think of me as weak. His eyes held no pity, instead perhaps curiosity and something else. I was an expert at reading people, at seeing the truth in someone's eyes, but I couldn't make out what Jax was seeing and feeling right then. Horror? Fright? Guilt?

  "It's not what you think," I snapped. Jax didn't react to my abrupt hostility. "I wouldn't do that to myself. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction." I was angry. Not at Jax, but Marcus. He did this to me, he's the one that ruined me. With blazing eyes of fury, I turned to face Jax. I pulled my wrist out of his big warm hand and I angrily pulled my sleeves up and turned my arms over for Jax to see the marks in all their horrid glory. There too many scars to count, fine white slashes that crisscrossed my forearms ending in the deep, ugly, rigid scars at my wrists. He looked at them and the playful joy in his eyes only moments before was completely and utterly gone. Those intense grey eyes rose to meet mine and I could practically hear the questions he hadn’t voiced.

  "These were mine," I pointed to the light scars that laced my forearms like a horrifying web of pain. "They were my lowest point. I did things, horrible things with the intention of pissing him off. I hated myself for the way I behaved. I had so much self-loathing I did this to myself. But these," I pointed to the deep, ugly scars on each wrist. "This was him. He drugged me, and he cut me. He told me it was to prove that he owned me and controlled me." Jax's fingers lightly traced the scars, the gentle sweep of his fingers betraying the anger in his eyes. “For a long time I hated myself, but I would not kill myself. I would not let him win the game.” I didn’t care if the scars repulsed him like they did me, I just had to be sure he knew I didn’t try to commit suicide. Those warm grey eyes found mine and he nodded, he understood, he believed me.

  "There you are." A woman's voice from the doorway interrupted us. I abruptly pulled my hands away and pulled my sleeves down, taking a hesitant step away from Jax. At the door stood a woman, long blonde hair styled perfectly. Her make-up immaculate, dressed in an elegant pencil line skirt and fitted button down top. She looked like a model, glamorous, flawless.

  “Selena, what the hell are you doing here?” Jax snapped. I winced at the callousness in his voice and was glad he didn’t speak to me like that. The woman, Selena didn’t seem fazed though. Her eyes took me in, a touch of irritation behind them and a whole lot of repulsion. I instantly disliked her.

  "I told you I wanted to see you tonight. Beth said I would find you out here. I bought a picnic, I thought we could spread it out in your office and have some alone time." There was no missing the meaning behind "alone time" and she made damn sure I was listening as she stared at me pointedly and spoke in a sing-song voice that made me cringe.

  "I already ate Selena, and you know very well I don't have an office." She laughed, it was fake, horrible.

  "You pay most the bill's here so your mother's office is as good as yours." I could feel the tension rolling off Jax beside me. It made me restless and uncomfortable. I hated confrontation. This was a trigger, and I had to get away from this uncomfortable lovers quarrel. I looked at Selena who was quite obviously a girlfriend, and she was a bitch. I felt like such an idiot. As if a man like Jax would truly care about a damaged little girl like me. He would want a real woman like Selena, who perhaps was a cow but she looked perfect, no doubt not a scar would mar her beautiful body. I felt sick to my stomach.

  "Excuse me, I'm just gonna leave you guys to that alone time." I tried to offer Jax a smile, but I know it didn't reach my eyes. I snuck out of the kitchen and all but ran for the common room, shaking my head at my stupidity. I had made a fool of myself, almost allowing myself to care, to want. As if my battered soul could take that kind of risk.

  Chapter 6

  Jax

  Selena was standing right there in front of me, yet I couldn’t believe it. The fact she thought it would be acceptable to come here stunned me to silence, and when she’d looked at Ella with such cold hostility, that silence abruptly ended. This moment was my bitch-slap. Time to wake up and smell the coffee, or the foul stench of cloying perfume the woman always wore. I must have been stark raving mad to have slept with this…this…Barbie doll. What the hell was wrong with me, she was a heartless bitch, and she just stood here in front of me now, smiling like a clueless fool. There was no way I could possibly contain the anger that boiled at the sight of her.

  “You need to leave.” Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she quickly put that mask of confidence back on.

  “Don’t be silly. I came down all this way to see you, the least you can do is have a drink with me. I bought the red you like.” I hated the red, I hated wine full stop. I was more of a beer kind of guy, but Selena liked me to look refined when we went out for dinner, which was rarely. After all, our relationship had mostly been physical. We were not considered an exclusive couple which made me wonder why all of a sudden she seemed to be pushing for more.

  “What are you doing Selena? We’ve always kept things casual. What’s with the sudden clingy attitude?” She sighed and pouted, that pout that made her look like a moron.

  "Because Jax, casual doesn't work for me anymore. I'm not getting any younger, I’ll be twenty-five next month, and it's time for me to settle down. You and I are perfect together. You could move into the apartment with me and sell your house, it’s too far out of town anyway. We can build up your business so that I can stop working and don't freak out," she gave me a pointed look. Too late, I was already freaking out. "Then we can think about kids. Maybe three, but in the future, like a year or two from now, once your construction company becomes sustainable, and you can quit coming in here." I shook my head and laughed. Clearly Selena misunderstood my humor as she smiled back. The woman was certifiably delusional.

  “Okay Selena, I normally wouldn’t be so abrupt with a woman, it’s not my style, but clearly you are no ordinary woman.” Her smile wavered. “You should not have come here tonight, not ever. The way you just glared at Ella with such bitterness was not only inappropriate but childish.”

  “She was touching you,” Selena tried to intercede.

  "Actually, I was touching her but that makes no difference to us or what I am about to say. I want you to leave. I want you to take your expensive wine that tastes like piss and get the fuck out of here. I want you to delete my number from your phone and not call me again, ever." That got rid of her over-achieving smile. Now she looked as pissed as I felt. "And this is a 'shelter', Mercy's Shelter for abused women, not a fucking warehouse!" I felt better for adding that to my tirade.

  “How dare you. After everything I have done for you.” I laughed at that one.

  "Seriously Selena, what the hell have you done for me, please enlighten me?" She hadn't done shit for me, and she knew it as she stam
mered for words.

  “I was there when you had your nightmares, when you had therapy, I was there for you.” Whoop-de-fucken-do. I had nightmares every fucking night, and she thought having been witness to a couple granted her access to my head, to me? As for the therapy, she had absolutely nothing to do with that. That was on me. I dealt with my shit, Selena was nothing but an awkward and uncomfortable spectator in that part of my life.

  "You know what Selena? I'm not interested in having this argument with you. Just do us both a favor and leave. We both knew what we were doing, and it was nothing than an occasional fuck. I'm not at all what you need, and lord knows you are definitely not what I need, or want." I knew that stung her like a bitch. She actually took a step away. Without a backward glance she pushed her shoulders back and left.

  I threw the dishcloth across the room and took a few deep calming breaths. I couldn't believe I had spoken to a woman like that and here of all places. I was pissed at myself for losing my cool, I was pissed at Selena for pushing me, but most of all, I was pissed that she had interrupted the moment between Ella and I. Ella had shown me her scars, and it was a big deal. She hid them well, behind her clothing and hair and I wondered how much more of her body was covered in them. The scars up her arms were classic self-harm scars, small and pale. But the nasty rigid scars on her wrists, they had been deep and cut with purpose. They were meant for death, and when I looked into Ella's pleading eyes, I knew that she hadn't done that to herself which meant someone had hurt her, badly. She seemed too young to have been married, so most likely her father or another relative had harmed her, maybe even a boyfriend. I hoped Selena hadn't destroyed the small bond of trust I had managed to form with Ella. I needed to know more; I needed to know who had done this to her and if the bastard wasn't already dead or suffering in prison, he soon would be.

  "So, what did you do? Run over her kitty cat? Spill coffee on her Louis Vuitton? Oh My God, please tell me you told her one of her boobs is bigger than the other?" Beth raised me from my thoughts, and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips.

  "One of her boobs is bigger than the other?" I wondered out loud. Honestly, I’d never noticed, never paid enough attention to those plastic monstrosities. I preferred more of a natural appearance and a little smaller. More like Ella and the thought made me internally groan. What was I thinking?

  “Good lord, I don’t know. But little miss perfect would be horrified. No doubt she would have organized an appointment with her plastic surgeon for first thing in the morning. That girl is more plastic than a Barbie doll.” I laughed out loud at that one.

  “I take it she’s no longer on the premises?” I asked.

  "Gone like yesterday's news. In fact, she left so fast I thought her panties might have been on fire." Damn Beth had a way with words.

  “Yeah well, I have no idea what’s going on with her panties nor will I in the future.”

  “Good to hear, Selena Liander is a bitch. You can do better than that.” Beth picked up the dish rag I had thrown and tossed it on the bench. “Ella came out looking a little pale before, is she alright?”

  “Yeah, she showed me some scars.” I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to control the rage at seeing her body marked in such a way.

  “Scars, as in plural?” I nodded and Beth’s frown told me she was thinking the same thing I was, who the hell had hurt her?

  “I want Dave to talk to her.” Beth shook her head.

  “She might not want to talk to Dave. She seems to have already established a connection with you. Maybe you should try talking to her again. See if you can get her to open up further. See if you can find out if the asshole who hurt her is in prison and if he’s not we can try putting him there.”

  "I'm not trained for that kind of thing Beth." I could already feel the anger growing inside, I needed to go down into the basement for a round on the bag, I was far too tense, the women would see it. It would make them nervous.

  “You don’t have to be trained to lend an ear. You don’t have to do anything different than what you’ve been doing. Show her she can trust you, let her lean on you.” I nodded and suddenly felt bone weary tired. I had only had a few hours’ sleep the night before and this afternoon, when I had finally gotten home, all I wanted to do was come back to the shelter and check on Ella.

  "I'll take first shift tonight. You calm yourself down and get some shut-eye." She didn't have to ask me twice.

  “She opened up tonight she could have flashbacks, nightmares.”

  "She had nightmares last night." Beth's frank admission shocked me. I hadn't heard a peep from Ella before my shift ended at two a.m.

  “It was after you went to bed. She didn’t scream out but she was unsettled, crying in her sleep.

  "Fuck," I murmured. Many of the women had nightmares, but the fact that Ella had them bothered me in a way it shouldn't have. I was far too drawn to this girl.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. Go get some sleep.” I reluctantly left the kitchen and forced myself not to head for the common room. My brain screamed at me to keep a professional distance from Ella. Too bad my heart seemed to have a different plan entirely.

  Ella

  The blonde bimbo left in an awful hurry and she didn't look happy and that strangely enough, it made me happy. I couldn't believe I had shown Jax my scars, but a small part of me felt some resemblance to peace for having done so. I had shared something of myself with someone. Few people knew about my scars and only two people knew the truth, me and Marcus, fucking Marcus. Was he still looking for me? Surely after all these years he would have given up? Somehow I knew better, Marcus wasn't the giving up type. I knew he had searched for me in the beginning. Rita had told me that the police came looking for me at the bus station. Luckily for me I had not been there long enough for anyone to be able to make a positive I.D and that was when Rita earned my loyalty and trust. She didn't tell them a damn thing. I sighed, I needed to call her. It had been three months since I had last spoken to Rita using the phone she had bought for me after dragging me out of the bus depot four years ago. She had earned the right to ask how I was and expect an honest reply.

  I settled at the table beside Eli who was again drawing. For a moment I wondered what had happened to the pictures I sketched last night. Most likely in the trash I thought. Annie sat beside me and ruffled Eli’s curly brown locks.

  "Bed time buddy," she said. Eli groaned. "Go brush your teeth, please." Eli didn't argue, not once. He slipped off the chair and disappeared into the bathroom.

  "Jax tells me you will be leaving soon." Annie looked a little shocked followed quickly with irritation, perhaps not impressed that Jax had been talking about her business. It was an unspoken rule in the shelters; everyone minded their own business. “That’s a good thing it will be good for Eli to have his own place,” I quickly tried to calm the anger that simmered in Annie’s eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded. She was pretty in that girl next door kind of way. She had a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose that I had captured in the portrait I had drawn of her the previous night. Her hair wasn’t really one shade in particular, but a combination of many shades, blonde, brown, red with all different hues in between. Her eyes were beautiful, a green that shimmered vividly between blue and emerald. She had the same look all beaten women did, tired and betrayed. Women who had been hurt in such a way held their emotions close and in check. They didn’t want others to see their pain, they didn’t want others to see any weakness, the vulnerability that had been exposed by the man who had hurt them. Fine lines around Annie’s eyes and mouth suggested she had at one time smiled, a lot.

  "He's a good boy, he never once complained when I packed his bag and made him leave behind all his toys. He didn't deserve that." She looked so sad I wanted to give her a hug, but I held back and nodded, giving her the only thing I could, an ear to listen. I knew what it was like to leave behind a home, but leaving mine created a feeling of euphoria. For Eli, it must have been confusin
g and frightening.

  “Toys can be replaced. It’s good you got him out, no toy is worth staying,” I whispered.

  "No, it isn't, but to a five-year-old, toys are special. They hold memories, they’re important."

  “He will have new toys, new memories, perhaps better memories.” Annie smiled, but it was a smile full of regret and bitter memories.

  “He never saw anything. He heard my husband yell and that frightened him, but I made sure he never saw him hit me. He saw my bruises later of course, I told him I fell or something incredibly ridiculous and he always believed me.” She sighed as she gathered the crayons and paper into a neat pile. “He hasn’t asked about his father once. It’s as if he has accepted without argument that he is no longer a part of our lives.”

  "Children are far more perceptive than we give them credit for.” When Annie smiled this time it was real, full of hope.

  “You’re very wise for someone so young.” I laughed at that. Annie looked barely a few years older than me. Perhaps she thought I was a child myself. People often assumed I was younger than I was, I was small, my features petite. I guess it was easy to misjudge my age.

  “Well, I’m twenty-two but I feel a lot older. I guess this sort of life makes us grow up much faster than we are supposed to.” I wondered out loud.

  Annie quietly slipped away and I grabbed some of Eli's crayons and began sketching a picture of my new boss, Rebecca. Perhaps if I could save enough money for a sketchbook and charcoal I could put some pictures up for sale in the store. Dream on Ella. Stop trying to recapture something that is long gone. I threw the crayon down with a little too much force.

  Beth reappeared in the common room, and I wondered where Jax was. It was confusing to feel like this about a guy. My mission had always been to avoid men altogether, they frightened me, even the ones whose eyes were filled with care and understanding. Men were bigger than me, well, everyone was bigger than me, but men were more powerful. No boy or man had ever captured my attention in the way Jax had, and I hadn't even kissed him. The fact I found myself wanting to was even more of a shock. Perhaps his honest desire to help me, to ‘rescue' me is what drew me to him. All girls wanted to feel cherished and wanted, but I knew Jax didn't want me like that. God, I was such a fool.