Chapter Six
Jax
Staring out of my office window, I can see the tourists taking photos in Battery Park. I love the excitement that constantly fills New York City. It’s the city that made me who I am today.
The plan was always to leave Bourne—to go where, I had no idea. There was only one thing I loved about that old Southern town where I grew up, and it still tears me up inside knowing that she isn’t by my side.
Jenna was the most crucial part of my plan, but it all fell apart so quickly. Maybe I was too naïve to think that high school sweethearts could last.
It’s been seven long years since I’ve seen or heard from Jenna. To this day, I still don’t know what really happened. We were young, and her parents desperately wanted her away from me.
I wonder who Jenna is today. Does she still live with her parents? Did they change her into what they always wanted her to be? A proper Southern belle with a waif-like figure. God, I hope not.
I wonder if she moved on from me to some rich guy. That thought makes my skin crawl. I can’t bear the thought of someone else’s hands on her.
I’m curious to know if she has found out who I’ve become. In three short years, I climbed my way up the corporate ladder. I lived modestly for a while as I made some wise investments that brought in enough profit to start my own hedge fund. It quickly became the most successful company in the Northern hemisphere.
I worked extremely hard—not having much of a life outside of work. I had always been good with numbers and money, and it all paid off. Big time. In fact, Forbes just named me one of the wealthiest people under thirty in their latest issue.
I have surpassed my goals for myself, and I can have anything I want. Penthouses, cars, women—I take advantage of it all, but nothing ever fills the void. The women are all the same—skinny, blonde, and wanting me to marry them. Most of these girls can’t handle me in bed. Between my size and how rough I like it, I wind up having to tone down my desires a lot.
In bed, I crave more than what these girls give me. I want fleshy hips to grab onto and tits to bounce. I miss Jenna’s gorgeous face and the freckles across her nose. She never covered her beauty up with caked on make-up like most of these girls do. I yearn for Jenna’s soft curves and her eyes looking at me with pure love. Jenna made me hard with just a bat of her eyes.
All of the girls I meet are looking for a sugar daddy and think the key to my heart, or wallet, is being a bitch to everyone around them. To me, they’re overly sweet, and I can see through their act. They’re as false as their eyelashes.
The compassion Jenna had for others, no matter what class or race they came from, seems to be a quality rare in others. We were just kids when we dated, and we only shared one night together, but what we had was special. Every moment with her is ingrained into my brain. She gave my life meaning.
The truth is, as much as I miss her, I am disappointed in her. She finally listened to her father about me. She chose him over me. Who knows what he said to her, though. As the seven-year anniversary of that night approaches, I need closure, once and for all.
Fuck closure. I need Jenna. I won’t leave Tennessee without her by my side.
“Mr. Morrison, the car is downstairs.”
I turn around and smile at my assistant. She is an older woman and one of the few I trust to the fullest. She makes sure I eat when I work late and listens to me when I’m stressed.
“Thanks, Joan.”
I grab my luggage and walk to the elevator. The black sedan sits outside of my office building, waiting to take me to LaGuardia Airport. The drive to the airport is a blur as my mind fills with Jenna.
Will I look different to Jenna? Or will she look different to me? I check social media regularly, hoping that one day, my Jenna will show up on there. There are plenty of Jenna Joneses out there, but none of them are my Jenna.
What always baffles me about Jenna is that there are no records on her at all. The only thing Joan ever found on Jenna specifically, and not her father, was an online degree in home schooling from four years ago.
I imagine Jenna being the perfect teacher since she was always patient and kind. The image of her with her hair up, glasses on, and biting down on a pencil comes to mind. And just like when I was eighteen, my dick responds to the mere thought of Jenna Jones. Thoughts of our time together seven years ago keep my mind occupied on the short flight to my hometown.
After touching down at BNA Airport, I pick up a rental car. The Mercedes SUV drives out of Nashville and toward Bourne smoothly. I practically speed down the highway. Living in the city, I don’t get to drive much, and I miss it. Sometimes I even miss my old pickup truck.
I slow down as I turn onto the dirt roads of Bourne. A flood of memories, good and bad, rush back to me. I pass my old high school and smile. The school doesn’t make me nostalgic for football games and the cheerleaders who wanted to date me—the bad boy of the school. It all makes me nostalgic for Jenna. Our relationship began and ended at that school.
Jenna and I had shared our first kiss under the bleachers. We had made love in the football field parking lot. Thanks to that school and its lack of security, we’d had a place to fool around without the peering eyes of Jenna’s parents or nosey townies.
I drive a couple of miles down the road, and the Jones’ estate comes into view. The huge, old plantation house is the landmark of Bourne. It is surrounded by lush gardens and landscaping that Irene, Jenna’s mother, was always most proud of. She often appears in Southern Living Magazine to discuss the designs and to throw in that her husband is running for governor.
Anger fills me as I get closer to the house. I want to show Jenna’s parents what I’ve made of myself—if they don’t already know. Martin Jones hates me for who my family is, for not having money. I wasn’t good enough for Jenna in his eyes. He must have convinced her that I was trash—that I couldn’t provide for her. Maybe he’d told her that I would end up a drunk like my father, or that I had used her to get to their money.
I’ll show him that I did as I’d always promised. I had gotten out of this small town and had made something of myself. I even have more money than Martin Jones does now. While he’s king of a rinky-dink town, I’m a respected businessman in one of the largest cities in the world. I’m a man now, not a boy. Martin has no control over me—or Jenna—anymore. I can take care of her.
The car approaches the gate that wasn’t there seven years ago. Thankfully, it’s open. I pull into the familiar circular driveway and turn off the car. I walk up to the door and knock. No one answers. I ring the doorbell and knock harder. All of my hatred for Martin Jones boils up at that moment, and I start pounding my fist against the door.
Finally, a butler answers the door. Behind him, the house is dark and eerily quiet. It’s extremely odd that not a single light is on.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Jenna Jones.”
“There isn’t anyone who lives here by that name.”
The butler gives me a cold glare before he tries to close the door in my face.
“Can I speak to Mr. Jones?” I ask. “We have some business to discuss.”
“The Joneses are out of town,” he replies blandly. “Please remove yourself from the property.”
He closes the door in my face, and I step back from the house. Something is off. I get back in the Mercedes and start the car, somewhat dumbfounded. It is a relief that Jenna has moved out of her parents’ house, but it has me wondering if she got married or is with someone. My chest tightens as it always does when I think about Jenna being with someone else.
Driving down the road, I pull off onto a grassy patch on the side of the road. I leave the rental car behind and head back to the estate. I wish I had worn something less conspicuous than the three-piece suit I had put on for work this morning.
Whether the Joneses are really home or not, something isn’t right about the house. If the staff is there, then why are all the lights off? Why did the butler act as if he’s never heard of Jenna Jones before? It feels like she didn’t exist anymore. Either that, or someone is trying hard to make it appear as if she doesn’t exist.
I creep around the perimeter of the property, trying to peek through the gate. I hear laughter coming from the far side of the house as I get closer. It sounds like it’s coming from a child.
A little boy comes into view. He’s right outside the gate, picking the wildflowers that grow there. They aren’t the perfectly-spaced and strategically coordinated plants Irene Jones prides herself on in her garden.
These flowers are all different lengths and colors. Some of them are dandelions and other weeds, but the little boy picks them anyway and puts them into a picnic basket. His curly, dark hair looks damp as the sun shines through it. A towel is draped over his shoulder. He had probably just been swimming at the lake.
He reminds me of myself as a boy. I practically lived at the lake, trying to catch frogs to bring home. I’d always had a need to nurture something—probably because I hadn’t gotten a lot of nurturing at home myself.
The boy holds a flower out to someone who is standing inside the gate.
“For me?”
A soft voice replies to the boy. I know that voice. Jenna! She steps out of the protective barrier of the gate and into the sunlight. She looks like an angel standing there. The sun brings out a reddish tint to her wild brown curls. Her smile is huge as she looks at the boy.
She’s dressed simply—cut-off jean shorts and a white t-shirt. I can see the tie to a bathing suit sticking out of her shirt. The shorts hug her big ass deliciously. She hasn’t changed a bit, and that makes me want to pull her into my arms all the more. I step closer, and a stick breaks under my weight, causing Jenna and the boy to snap their heads toward me.
My breath catches in my throat as her eyes fix on me. I can tell she doesn’t know how to respond to me being here. Walking closer, the distance between us disappears.
“Jax?”
My name sounds like a question. I nod.
“You’re—what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” I tell her, pushing her hair back from her shoulder and cupping her cheek.
She leans into my touch and closes her eyes. But she suddenly backs away from me and swallows.
“Did someone die?” she asks, looking me over.
A confused expression takes over my face, and Jenna pulls at the tie around my neck. I chuckle and shake my head at her. She has never seen me in a suit before.
“I flew in right from work,” I explain.
“So, where are you living?”
“New York.”
I’m a little surprised that she doesn’t know where I’m located. I’m not a celebrity, but Morrison has become a well-known name in business. Then again, why would she pay attention to business news? It’s easy to stay in a small town bubble in Bourne. Still, it hurts knowing she hasn’t tried looking me up.
“Wow, a city boy now.”
Her lips curl into a smile but then drop into a straight line in an instant.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding bitter.
“I wanted to see you. I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to settle some things between us.”
The little boy is making airplane noises in the background as Jenna looks back at him. She pushes her hair behind her ears and folds her arms across her chest. She unfolds them a few seconds later and shifts her weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.
“Um, yeah… it has been a while. How about I meet you for coffee?”
“Jen, why are you making this awkward?”
“I’m just trying to process everything, Jax. It’s been seven years,” she grumbles. “You left, remember?”
“Oh, so you blame me for what happened between us, huh?”
My fists clench and unclench. It’s easier to be angry than to show how hurt I am. Jenna stammers.
“I don’t know who I blame anymore.” She runs her fingers through her hair.
“There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
She puts her hand over her mouth and lets out a strangled sob.
“Mama! Come play!”
The little boy, who I had assumed was Jenna’s student, had just called her Mama! My eyes widen as I look from Jenna to the boy. Jenna loses all color in her face as she tears up.
“I wanted to tell you,” she begins.
“You’re married?”
“No,” she says, like that’s a ridiculous question.
“Where’s his father?”
I worry that I have more than just her parents to battle now. Jenna doesn’t answer my question as she looks back at the house and then down at her feet. I haven’t seen her look this nervous before. I take ahold of her hands, which are shaking uncontrollably.
“Jen, just talk to me. What’s going on?”
Jenna’s lips quiver as she speaks.
“His father is standing right in front of me.”
I drop her hands in shock and take a step away from her.
“W-what?”
“You’re his father, Jax. I wanted to tell you. My father took my phone, and you left town. I had no way to get in touch with you,” she cried. “I thought—I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
It’s all too much to process. I want to spit out everything I have felt for the past seven years, but I can’t speak. I am overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions—anger and love being the two most prominent.
“All this time, you’ve been raising MY son without me?”
Jenna cringes at my tone.
“I’ve missed out on seven years, Jenna!”
“Jax,” she pleads. “I swear, I wanted to let you know. I wanted to be with you, but…”
She becomes hysterical as I get angrier.
“How could you think I didn’t want you?”
I’m still yelling when our kid looks over at me, concern written on his small face. I make eye contact with him, and my chest tightens.
“How could you think I wouldn’t want to raise our son together?” I ask in a softer tone.
Jenna wipes her face with the back of her hand as she tries to speak.
“My father…”
“He thinks he can keep my kid away from me?!” I yell.
The boy—my son—walks over and takes Jenna’s hand protectively. My heart all but melts. I can tell he looks after his mother just as I would have.
“Mama, who’s that?”
He looks up at me. Oh my God, he has my eyes! His smile is all Jenna’s, but those are my eyes!
“Cory, this is your daddy,” Jenna can barely say as her voice trembles.
“I have a daddy?” he asks, looking up at Jenna with a big smile.
She nods, holding back more tears. Cory releases her hand and runs to me. Scooping him into my arms, I give him the biggest hug. My heart is no longer mine; my son has stolen it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Daddy.”
I squeeze him tighter, looking over at Jenna, who is crying her eyes out. A few tears come to my eyes as well.
I’m a Daddy. Overwhelmed with pride and love, a new urgency to protect Jenna and our son from anything—or anyone—that might hurt them comes over me. I must get them away from Martin Jones’ evil clutches. They are my family, and no one is going to keep them from me.