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.
Shaking my head I grabbed my backpack and made my way to one of the spare beds at the furthest end of the room. The bathrooms were not handy at this end, but there appeared to be no one in the two beds beside me, which meant if I had nightmares I would hopefully not disturb anyone else. My nights were still haunted with visions of Marcus. I occasionally woke screaming, sometimes crying. I didn’t want these women who were battling their own demons to be witness to mine. I didn’t wish my nightmares on anyone, not even the blonde bimbo Selena. She didn’t realize how lucky she was. The fact she had looked at me with what I can only assume was jealousy was ridiculous, she certainly had nothing to be jealous about. No one wanted my life, not even me. She looked like one of those girls who had it all and it seemed as though she had Jax too. Though he certainly didn’t seem happy with her tonight, his tone icy cold, his eyes looked at her with frustration and anger. Not the same kind of anger Marcus was consumed with, just irritation. It’s all in the eyes. No one can hide what lies there, but it takes someone special to be able to see it. Most people look at the face as a whole, body language, gage the voice, the words. I blank all that out and concentrate on eyes and Selena’s eyes were fake. She was fake and I couldn’t understand why Jax would want a girl like that. Sighing I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable tug into exhaustion, where images of Marcus continued to haunt me.
Chapter 7
Jax
Once my shift began I found myself sitting by a dim lamp in the common room, watching Ella. If it didn’t feel so right I might actually feel like some sick crazy perve. This tiny little girl had somehow become an important part of my life. I tried to examine it, look at the situation objectively, compare my need to help her to the need I had to help the other women, the need I had felt to save Sarah. At the end of a long hour of consideration, I decided my want for Ella must be simple, primitive male lust. Yeah, even that didn’t feel right. Sure I wanted her, but not just that delectable little body, I wanted all of her, heart and soul included and I had never felt that way about any of the other women who came to Mercy’s, especially not Sarah. Shit, this is what the guys I served with called ‘pussy whipped’.
With the sun up again I found myself in the kitchen getting the breakfast ready. Mary would be in soon but I thought I’d surprise her and take the initiative to get the ball rolling. Porridge, toast, cereal and fruit, I couldn’t screw that up. The wafting arrival of coconut filled my senses. Ella stood beside me, tousled hair and rumpled clothes, reaching for the freshly brewed coffee.
“Porridge, cereal or toast?” I asked. She grumbled and shook her head, taking a long sip of her coffee. She sighed. My girl wasn’t a morning person. My girl? I was not renowned for my possessive tendencies towards women so this ‘claiming’ confused the hell out of me. Furthermore, Ella was not mine. “You’re not leaving without eating and you’re taking that when you go.” I nodded toward a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. I had made her up some lunch a short while ago. It was the first time I had ever made lunch for someone other than myself. I remembered Mercy making lunches for me as a kid, a sandwich, piece of fruit and a
Shaking my head I grabbed my backpack and made my way to one of the spare beds at the furthest end of the room. The bathrooms were not handy at this end, but there appeared to be no one in the two beds beside me, which meant if I had nightmares I would hopefully not disturb anyone else. My nights were still haunted with visions of Marcus. I occasionally woke screaming, sometimes crying. I didn’t want these women who were battling their own demons to be witness to mine. I didn’t wish my nightmares on anyone, not even the blonde bimbo Selena. She didn’t realize how lucky she was. The fact she had looked at me with what I can only assume was jealousy was ridiculous, she certainly had nothing to be jealous about. No one wanted my life, not even me. She looked like one of those girls who had it all and it seemed as though she had Jax too. Though he certainly didn’t seem happy with her tonight, his tone icy cold, his eyes looked at her with frustration and anger. Not the same kind of anger Marcus was consumed with, just irritation. It’s all in the eyes. No one can hide what lies there, but it takes someone special to be able to see it. Most people look at the face as a whole, body language, gage the voice, the words. I blank all that out and concentrate on eyes and Selena’s eyes were fake. She was fake and I couldn’t understand why Jax would want a girl like that. Sighing I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable tug into exhaustion, where images of Marcus continued to haunt me.
Chapter 7
Jax
Once my shift began I found myself sitting by a dim lamp in the common room, watching Ella. If it didn’t feel so right I might actually feel like some sick crazy perve. This tiny little girl had somehow become an important part of my life. I tried to examine it, look at the situation objectively, compare my need to help her to the need I had to help the other women, the need I had felt to save Sarah. At the end of a long hour of consideration, I decided my want for Ella must be simple, primitive male lust. Yeah, even that didn’t feel right. Sure I wanted her, but not just that delectable little body, I wanted all of her, heart and soul included and I had never felt that way about any of the other women who came to Mercy’s, especially not Sarah. Shit, this is what the guys I served with called ‘pussy whipped’.
With the sun up again I found myself in the kitchen getting the breakfast ready. Mary would be in soon but I thought I’d surprise her and take the initiative to get the ball rolling. Porridge, toast, cereal and fruit, I couldn’t screw that up. The wafting arrival of coconut filled my senses. Ella stood beside me, tousled hair and rumpled clothes, reaching for the freshly brewed coffee.
“Porridge, cereal or toast?” I asked. She grumbled and shook her head, taking a long sip of her coffee. She sighed. My girl wasn’t a morning person. My girl? I was not renowned for my possessive tendencies towards women so this ‘claiming’ confused the hell out of me. Furthermore, Ella was not mine. “You’re not leaving without eating and you’re taking that when you go.” I nodded toward a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. I had made her up some lunch a short while ago. It was the first time I had ever made lunch for someone other than myself. I remembered Mercy making lunches for me as a kid, a sandwich, piece of fruit and a
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