I swore I saw his eyes shimmer with moisture, but I couldn't be sure because his head drew close as he kissed me. Oh, how I'd missed those lips on mine!

Our kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind new lovers have when they're discovering each other for the first time. It wasn't our first kiss by any means, but it represented something new between us. There was more certainty, more security in the future.

"I love you," Jax whispered against my lips. Our foreheads rested together. "I have for a long time, but I fought it. I was afraid it would make me weak, and I swore I'd never be vulnerable again."

"And now?" I had to ask. I needed the affirmation once again.

"You make me stronger."

This time I knew it was tears that stung my eyes as I buried my face against his chest and clung to him. His lips traveled across my jaw until they met mine once again. This time, our kiss was less sweet, more desperate with need.

His hands pushed through my hair, down my back, and dug into my bottom as he lifted me. We never broke as my legs wrapped around his waist. He carried me like that to my bedroom where he paused next to my bed. I let my legs fall to the ground, but I held tight to him, not trusting them to hold me up.

After a time, our kiss slowed and Jax's hold in my hair lessened to stroke my cheeks. Our gazes held each other's, saying quietly the words our minds and hearts shouted.

It was going to take some time to process the dramatic turn of events that happened in the past few hours. I loved the man before me, but my heart still broke for the boy he'd been.

"I'm sorry for everything you've been through in your past, Jax." My voice trembled as I spoke.

His expression was amazingly calm, peaceful even. "Don't be. It's the past. You've given me something much bigger, the future. Say you're with me, Grace."

More tears spilled down my cheeks as I heard the raw hope in his voice, the slight pleading. "I'm here, Jax. And I'll be there tomorrow and all the days after, too."

There were no more words. Jax pulled back the covers of the bed and laid me down on it. He stripped me slowly, pausing to kiss almost every inch of skin he uncovered. And then he made love to me, over and over again.

The first rays of the sun were coming up as we lay in each other's arms. My fingers drifted lazily over the phoenix on his arm. "Does this have anything to do with what happened to you."

"More than you know."

"It's you, isn't it? It's you moving on, starting over. A rebirth of sorts."

He chuckled. "You sound like a walking thesaurus, but yes, it's symbolic that way. You're very insightful."

My thumb rubbed over the small ridges that I could barely feel beneath the ink. "Did you scar when you got it? That's not normal, is it?"

He kissed the top of my head, then rolled over on his side to face me. "They're scars, but not from the tattoo. Part of the reason I got the tattoo was to cover them up, to remind myself I was stronger than what caused them."

I sat up, the sheet falling to my waist. "Did she hurt you? I mean, more than, you know, the other? God, I'd like to strangle her."

Jax snorted as he fluffed the pillows and sat up against my headboard. "No, you wouldn't. You'd find a way to help her. She was a messed-up girl who suffered more abuse than any of us know about. It doesn't excuse what she did, but she'd been a victim, too." He pulled me into his arms again.

"Maybe," I mumbled.

"You would. But those scars are my doing."

I rubbed my fingers over them. "So, what happened? A sports accident?"

His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek. "Nothing quite so innocent, I'm afraid. I did it to myself on purpose. For a very short time, I was a cutter."

My fingers froze. Jax had so much tragedy in his young life, I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Every time I thought I knew the depth of his anguish, he revealed something else. "Tell me?"

"When things were...happening, I grew angry. I wanted to blurt out everything to my mom, but I'd see her smile at Gene. She wasn't so stressed anymore. I felt trapped. Sometimes I felt like I might explode. I wanted to run away, but I knew that would also break my mom's heart. I just wanted to lash out and hurt someone, anyone."

"So, you chose yourself instead."

He nodded. "I found razor blades one day. I don't know what I was even looking for, but I sliced my finger. It hurt. I kept looking at the blood coming from the cut, feeling the throb. A couple of days later I was looking at the cut. It was almost healed, and it didn't hurt anymore. But I remembered that feeling. Before I knew it, I was in the bathroom with the razors. That first cut hurt and I cried, but it was like a release valve.

"It went on for about a month. I used to carry the blade everywhere, like a security blanket. Knowing I had it helped for a while. I didn't cut every day, but with each time I did, it grew easier, and then more frequent. Then one day the need to use it overcame me at school. I asked for a bathroom pass and did what I did. Only this time, Noah caught me. Not the actual cutting, but when I was cleaning up at the sink. He saw the other cuts. I thought I'd played it off, but Noah is smart. He told my mom, who confronted me. I refused to tell her anything, and I was so pissed at Noah. I wouldn't talk to him.

“Somehow, my mom pieced together what was going on. At first, she thought Gene was hurting me, but I finally confessed what was happening. I was afraid she wouldn't believe me, but she did. She confronted them, and she made Gene and Mallory leave that night. There were a lot of tears. She got me into counseling right away. I think she spent a month never letting me out of her sight, making all my favorite meals, and apologizing to me for not figuring it out sooner. She filed for immediate divorce. I know now that she only agreed not to report Mallory if Gene got her into intensive counseling, which, of course, he did. I honestly don't believe he knew what she was doing, but I blamed him just the same. For months, I heard my mom cry herself to sleep. I heard her beg my father to forgive her for letting it happen. I knew then I needed to be stronger for her. She gave up everything, her new husband, the daughter she wanted, Gene's income, everything to protect me.

"I still had moments where I wanted to cut. Therapy helped some, but mostly I threw myself into working. Sports weren't my thing because I was too much of a loner at that time, but working with my hands, keeping them occupied with something other than the blade, gave me a new focus. I learned to rebuild my dad's car that my mom held on to after he died. I started working part-time for a construction group when I was sixteen, small things, but I was quick, and I learned a lot from the guys. I worked for them full time when I graduated from high school for a couple of years. I threw myself into learning everything I could about building. I think you know the rest."

"You invented some gadget, sold it, invested the money and put yourself through college."

"That about sums it up."

"And that's when you decided to get the tattoo."

"I needed to cover up the proof of my weakness."

"Oh, Jax. There's not a weak thing about you. I thought you were amazing before, but now I...I'm just beyond words."

"Well, there's a first for everything." He winked and grinned at me.

I smacked his chest and pouted.

He laughed and rolled on top of me.

"How do you laugh after telling that story?"

"Life goes on. And now mine goes on with you. I'm happy." He shrugged as if it was the simplest explanation there was. And maybe it was. The past forty-eight hours had been some of the worst and longest of my life. The solution was simple—Jax.

"You're right," I said. "I love you. Everything else is just details."

"You know the best part?" He asked, rubbing my nose with his.

"What's that?"

"We're just getting started."