chapter FOUR
My neck is creaky, and my back is as stiff as a board. That’s what I get for falling asleep in a chair. I push my spine away from the recliner in an awkward attempt to stretch.
Rolling my head, I hold out my arms to try to get the blood flowing in my veins again.I let out a big yawn and then curl my legs into me and sit sideways, burying my head into the crook of my elbow. Restless and uncomfortable, there’s no way I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I turn to the other side, and when I open my eyes, Jax is watching me.
“You’re back,” I say, abruptly sitting up in the chair.
He nods. “It appears I am.”
I roll my eyes and adjust the chair to an upright position.
“Surprised you stayed,” he says. He’s sitting straighter than he was before they rolled him off to his test. He’s also back to being shirtless. The large dragon on his chest blazing off his injured skin.
I try not to stare at his muscular torso. “Where’s your hospital gown?”
“I prefer to be naked.”
Ignoring his comment, I curl my arms around my knees. The clock on the wall shows it’s almost dawn. “I’m out of here as soon as the storm dies down.”
“A lot of damage outside?”
“Last I checked, the beaches on the Jersey shore eroded, and people who didn’t evacuate are being rescued. Houses were coming off foundations. I was monitoring the storm when you went for your test.”
“Looks like the storm isn’t the only thing you’ve been looking into.”
I tilt my head to the side, unsure of what he’s talking about. Jax raises his brows and motions his head toward my lap. Like an idiot, I fell asleep while snooping through his phone.
“I was checking to see if anyone was looking for you.”
“I doubt it.”
I toss it onto the white sheet.
He grabs it with his free hand. “Thanks for charging it.”
I offer a half smile, knowing I only charged it so I could snoop. Kindness was not the end game.
He flips through his phone for a few minutes. With each swipe of his thumb, his brow creases deeper, and his teeth skim his lower lip. His chest deflates with a large exhale, and he lowers the phone to the bed and looks up at me. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“You and me both.” I make a sarcastic, wide-eyed expression.
“Ella asked you,” he sighs in disbelief. “Of all people, she asked you to come see me.”
“Looks like there wasn’t anyone else in a city of nine million people who cared if you were alive or dead.”
His brow quirks in interest. “And you do?”
“I plead the fifth.”
Jax winces at my words. I’m usually not this mean, but there’s something about him that brings out my inner bitch.
“Don’t feel too honored. I bet you’re not the only one she asked.”
“Great. I’m just the only idiot that actually came.”
With his eyes down and lips pursed, he adds, “Yeah, well, senators are busy, you know.”
My mouth is open, prepared to retort when I realize what he’s saying. Senator Davis is on the Congressional Subcommittee for Energy—he’s in the city. Either Ella couldn’t get a hold of him, or Senator Davis just doesn’t care what happens to his son.
I wrap my arms around my stomach and give myself a hug. No matter how disappointed my parents would be of me, I have no doubt they’d be by my side if they thought I was in trouble.
“I’m sure he’s trapped. If he could get here I know—”
“This is my dad we’re talking about. Let’s not pretend he’s some wholesome guy who cares about his kid.”
I shake my head. “That makes no sense. You’re like the only thing your dad actually cares about. You were his carbon copy.” I motion a hand toward his head and make a circle in the air. “Well, before all this happened.”
Jax ticks his jaw. “Let’s just say the golden boy became the black sheep.” His fierce gaze is staring hard into the linoleum. With each pass of his eyes, the muscles in his face tighten, and his aggravation becomes apparent.
I throw my hands up in the air, more annoyed at myself for walking into this black hole of a conversation. “Do you want to elaborate?”
“Not particularly.”
I try to bite my tongue. “I’m not in a position to feel sorry for you.”
He blows out a deep breath of air. “Trust me, I’m not asking for your sympathy.”
The wind outside the window makes a high-pitch screech as the heavy rain smacks the glass, and I can hear movement outside the hospital room door. Fast footsteps and wheels of roller beds pass by the door as more patients are moved into this wing of the building. Good thing he came in when he did, or he may have been one of those poor souls sleeping in the hall.
“You look good.”
My head pops up at his comment.
“You look like an idiot,” I retort.
Jax laughs as he runs his fingers through the bleached-out locks. “It is a little bright, huh?” He smiles and showcases the gorgeous row of perfectly straight teeth his father paid a fortune for with years of orthodontic work. “Maybe I’ll make it red,” he says, eyeing my auburn tresses.
“You can’t handle red.”
With a smirk, he replies, “No, I can’t. It suits you. Brings out your eyes.”
My stomach flutters. When Jackson looks at me with the determined stare—like he’s doing right now—I can’t help the whoosh that takes place in my gut.
“When did you change it?”
I’ve been dying it for so long, I almost forget what it’s like to be blonde. “When I left Virginia.”
“Hiding who you really are?”
“Hiding who I’ve become.”
He pulls at the tab on his sheet, twirling it between his fingers. “Can’t imagine you turned out to be anything but flawless. You’re the gentlest person to ever walk the planet. You used to save animals and tutor kids for free.”
“You’re the one who climbed the tree to save that cat.” I’m mad at myself for bringing up the sweet memory as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“Because you were devastated. I was a sucker for the pretty blonde who lived next door. You remember that time you didn’t make the cheer team?”
I lower my chin at him. “You told me the squad was filled with wannabe prostitutes and a resting place for girls with inferiority complexes.
“I was right.” His tone is matter-of-fact.
I narrow my gaze. “Ella was on the team.”
“Exceptions can be made.” He gives a crooked smile and looks back at me. “You were too good for them. And then you joined the damn drama club.”
I nod. “Yeah, I loved it until I got that scathing review in the Whyndam Gazette. I never should have been cast as Annie Oakley.”
“I must have gone to fifty newsstands and bought every damned paper. Burned them in the field behind the football field.”
I jolt in surprise. “You bought all the papers?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
I fumble my words in disbelief, “What do you mean you burned papers? How many?”
His head sways from side to side. “Three hundred.”
“Why would you do that?”
He clears his throat and wipes a hand on the back of his neck. “You were upset.”
My mouth hangs open as I stare at the square floor tiles. One is raised slightly, standing out from the others. I was fifteen when I performed in that play. It was before we were an item. He should have told me then what he had done. A time when I would have actually appreciated it.
“It worked out,” he says. “You joined the school newspaper after that and found your true calling.”
Feeling uncomfortable with the direction our conversation, I take out my phone as a means to distract myself. No matter what I see on the screen, I can’t help but feel his presence. His bleached hair is looming in the background. That gaze penetrating my every thought.
I raise my shoulders and spread out my hands as if to ask, Why are you looking at me like that?
“I thought for sure you’d be on your way to being a reporter by now.” He folds his hands on his lap and tilts his head in appraisal of me. “You used to watch Diane Sawyer like she was a rock star. You were just as smart and beautiful as she was, too. If there was anyone in this world who was going to be what they set out to be, it was Triciana Hogan. You gave up.”
I clench my jaw and bit down. He sees the look of pure anger I give him.
“What?” he asks, incredulously. “You’re just gonna settle for being someone’s assistant?”
“Production assistant.” I breathe out harshly.
“A PA is nothing more than a glorified coffee fetcher,” he hisses.
“Better than a wannabe rock star,” I spit.
“Hey, at least I’m living my dream.”
“You took away my dreams!” I shout.
“Says the person who’s too afraid to chase them.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’ve already done that, sweetheart.
I bolt out of my seat so fast, I’m surprised I don’t fall over. I’m at the door in three seconds, gripping the handle.
“Trish.”
The harsh tone of his voice makes my body stop.
“Trish, please. I’m sorry.”
I pause with my back to him, my body halfway out the door. My heart, however, is halted inside the room. A heart so full of hurt yet, for some reason, still beats faster at the sound of his voice. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He’s right. He shouldn’t have. What is it about this inept man that can’t comprehend the years of tragedy he ensued on me?
I should walk out the door. I should slam it and choose to sleep on the floor of a hospital waiting room all night, or hell, even brave it out in the greatest hurricane to bear down on our city in a hundred years. But this is the opportunity most people wish they had—to confront an enemy at a time when that person needs mercy instead of vengeance.
With my back to him, I speak out into the open air of the room.
“Why’d you do it, Jax?”
He doesn’t answer. I know it’s not because he doesn’t understand the question. It’s because he knows it all too well.
“I let you film us because I thought it would be fun. I wanted to give you that memory to take with you. It was for you and you alone. Never in my life would I have believed you’d share it.” Reluctantly, I turn around.
His head falls back on the pillow, and he looks up at the ceiling. He swallows, hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs.
“I don’t know.”
I cry out in exasperation. “Nine years I waited for an explanation, and this is what I get. You don’t know.”
His head rises. His eyes are glassy. “I mean it. I don’t know what I was thinking. I…I was an asshole.”
“No, you weren’t. That’s what I don’t understand. You were honest and good. You were my friend.”
“And you were mine.”
“Then why humiliate me?”
“Because I’m a selfish bastard, that’s why!” he shouts. “I showed my friends because the tape we made was hot. I uploaded it to my computer, and Chad asked if he could have a copy. I said no, but I let him watch it.”
“Why would you even show it to him?”
“I was eighteen and thought it was awesome to have this tape with my beautiful girl and he was my best friend. I never dreamed he would post it. I didn’t even know you could just upload things to the internet like that. I had no idea it would be all over the school.”
“You’re blaming this on Chad? He never should have had it in the first place.”
“I’m not…I’m not blaming Chad.” He winces, grabbing his side. “I’m blaming myself. God dammit, Triciana, listen to me.”
“Don’t call me by my given name. Only those I love can use it. You lost that right a long time ago!”
He flinches at my harsh words.
I take a few steps to the side and back, a mini pace in the room. “When the rumors started,” I begin, but then feel the heat of tears building behind my eyes. “The bullying, the teasing that followed. I had girls throwing trash at me, Jackson. Guys made lewd comments all day long. They had all seen me naked, viewed every crevice of my body in a way that was only meant for you. I received death threats from girls who thought the guy in the video was their boyfriend. The words were awful, but the touching—” I pause and close my eyes at the terrible memory, my mouth turning down in disgust. “I was followed home one day by a group of men. They cornered me, tried to lift my skirt, fondled my breasts. I don’t know if they were going to rape me or if they just thought touching was innocent fun. Thank God, I’ll never know because my dad drove by just in time. He saved me, and I had no choice, but to tell him about the tape.”
He curses under his breath. “I had no idea—“
“You want to know why I’m not a fighter? Because even with the ridicule and the heinous words thrown my way, with my parents choosing to pick up and leave our home to protect me, after all of that, it pales in comparison to knowing while that was going on, you were gone. You disappeared. My entire life imploded over the course of a week, and you did nothing.”
“I couldn’t do anything! I was away at school. By the time I realized how bad it was, it was too late. I tried to get to you, but you shut me out.”
“I was protecting you!” The tears fall in hot streams cascading down my cheeks. That damn sledgehammer pounding away on my wall, the pain rushing out. Hurt and anger pour down my face. “You were eighteen, Jax.”
His bloodshot eyes widen and his mouth parts. Watching the realization of what I’ve been protecting him from, after he did the worst to me, cross his face is more than I can bear.
I explain the past he so clearly hasn’t heard. “My dad said if you came within fifty yards of me, he’d have you arrested for statutory rape and distribution of child pornography. Your father offered us a half a million dollars to walk away.”
He has a look of disgust on his face. Whether it’s toward his parents or me, I can’t tell.
Whoever it’s for, I ignore it and continue. “I begged my parents to take the money. I told them if they took it, we could move to a new town. Start over.”
Jax held the handheld camera so you couldn’t see it was him in the video. If we took it to court, I’d have to testify he was the one who filmed and shared the tape. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t destroy his life like that.
And more importantly, I couldn’t do it to myself. Jax is the son of a senator. The news would have hit the papers. I was fine being the mysterious blonde. I didn’t need my name attached. I was already a laughing stock, locally. I saved myself from national shame.
I wanted to move on, and that’s what we did. My dad is the East Coast Director of a glass manufacturing company. It didn’t matter where he lived as long as he was in his territory. Their headquarters is in Connecticut, so we moved there, and the rest is history.
“It was smart to stay away from me. Turns out I wasn’t the honest and good guy you thought.” He turns his head toward the window and clenches his jaw. The only sound in the room is the pelting rain against the glass.
There’s a code orange coming over the loudspeaker and a shuffle of activity on the other side of the door. When the commotion dies down, I shift from one foot to the next and try my hardest not to breathe in the palpable tension in the room.
“So what did the doctor say?”
Jax blinks a few times. “Nothing. He said nothing.”
“Your arm is pretty bad,” I say from my spot by the door. “Do you think you’ll be able to play again?”
He lets out a disappointed grunt from inside his throat.
I cross my arms in front of me and take a step toward his bed. “How did you end up in a band? Talk about changing your career path.”
He raises a brow. “You mean law school?” He continues when I nod my head. I dropped out of college my sophomore year.”
It’s the one thing I never understood. All these years stalking him on the internet, keeping tabs on what he’s been up to, I never understood how he went from wanting to be a lawyer to a professional musician.
“Did something happen?”
“I don’t want talk about this anymore.”
Palming my hand down my face, I laugh into my hand. “I give up. What are we supposed to talk about?”
“Strawberry jam.”
“What?”
“You love strawberry jam on dry turkey.” Jax scrunches his face as he recalls this little-known fact.
After the exchange we just had, this is how he breaks the tension. I fall onto the recliner and wonder how on earth we are going to survive staying in this room together for another few hours.
“It’s not that weird,” I counter.
“It’s fucking gross.”
“What about ketchup on eggs?” I stick my finger into my mouth and pretend to gag.
“Delicious,” he answers with a wide-mouthed grin.
“Disgusting.”
“You still look behind the shower curtain every time you walk in a bathroom?”
“There could be a serial killer in there.”
He puts his uninjured hand up in the air and says, “There could be,” in a mocking tone.
I level my eyes at him. “You’re the loser who’s still afraid of ghosts.”
“How do you know I…” Jax starts and stops, and I watch as realization crosses his face. “You stalk me.”
Shit. “Do not.”
He grins at me, and it’s unnerving. “I spoke about that in an interview last year.”
“How many tattoos do you have?” I ask quickly, gesturing to the dragon on his torso.
“You checked me out while I was unconscious,” he says as a statement more than a question.
I grimace as if I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“They have a name for that. Necrophilia.”
“You’re not wearing a shirt. I can see them from here.”
“What do you think of the lotus flower?”
“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen one in electric blue, I…” And this is when I realize by the smirk on his face, that I’ve been caught. “I was checking for injuries,” I defend. “So, do they mean anything or do you just wander into any tattoo parlor drunk and stoned and select what you want?”
Jax whistles through his teeth. “Someone grew up to be judgy.”
And just like that, the Catholic guilt sets in. I may hate him, but that shouldn’t change who I am or how I treat people. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t being true to myself.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” his words are curt. His jaw is set in a hard clench, his eyes focused deep into mine, the caramel hue turning to a fierce copper. “Don’t ever apologize. Especially to me. You’re right. I’m a soulless monster.” Jax raises his good arm and holds it up. “See this one,” he says, pointing to a clover on the inside of his bicep, “blasted on Guinness in Dublin. And this,” he bends his elbow, and on his forearm is a trail of feathers extending to his wrist. “I just thought they were pretty.”
“What about the dragon?” I lean forward in the chair, my elbows propped on my knees. “Fire breathing over your heart. That seems way too coincidental to be a drunken purchase.”
“Best and worst of humanity.” He raises his chin. “So what about you? You still a blank canvas?”
I take a moment to decide if I should show him mine. It’s personal, something that took months for me to perfect on paper before letting it be etched on my skin.
“Just one.” I raise my sweatshirt over my head leaving me in my tank top. I turn around in the recliner, swipe my hair to the side and pull back the straps to showcase the phoenix on my shoulder blade. It is mostly black with a faint outline of marigold and amber around the features. The bird’s head is held high, facing away from my shoulder, ready to soar. The wings are up and outstretched in a proud display. It’s not too big, and it’s not too small. I can cover it with a shirt or showcase it for all to see.
“When did you get it?” he asks as I put my hair back in place.
“When I started college.”
He gives an understanding nod and looks around the room. “It really is dark in here.”
“Do you still sleep with a nightlight? You always were a chicken.”
“That’s because you used to make me watch those damn scary movies. And it wasn’t like we could watch them together. We had to talk on the phone while I sat alone, in my room watching Jason or Freddy or whatever freak with a mask you were obsessing over mutilate people.”
I laugh out loud. He may have this new hard exterior all tatted up and full of muscle, but he’s still a wimp.
I shake my head. “What would your fans say?”
“Calm yourself there, Hogan. I’ve grown up quite a bit since then. I may still believe in ghosts, but I can handle my own in any situation,” he says, flexing his muscles. “How’s your family?”
Swaying from side to side I answer, “Dad’s still a workaholic. He was promoted to Regional Manager, so he’s pretty happy. My mom works for a great dentist in Cheshire. Everyone’s content.”
“That’s where you moved to?”
I turn my head to the side and rub a hand over my head. “Yeah. It’s in Connecticut.” With a nod, I turn back to Jax and ask, “So, how’s Ella? She has a daughter.”
“Vivian.” His face lights up as he says her name. “She’s awesome. Five-years-old and the funniest kid you’ll ever meet. I’m teaching her how to play the guitar. Her little fingers can’t get the chords, but she’ll catch on.”
“I can see you love her very much.”
A blush creeps up his face. “She has this beautiful face which makes you think she’s this sweet little girl—which she is—but she’s also feisty as hell. She wants to do everything faster and better than everyone else. I took her to the park, and there were these kids, maybe eight or nine-years-old, playing soccer. She went over and asked if she could join, but they told her she was too little. She came off the field with her lower lip sticking out, and this scowl on her forehead. She sat on the sidelines and watched. They started playing, and they’re passing to one another and trying to score, but no one gets a goal. Viv’s little head went left to right and back and forth, watching this game until, suddenly, she jumps up, charges and steals the ball from this kid twice her size and dribbles it to make a spectacular goal. I mean, the ball flew twenty feet. The goalie dove and everything. Their jaws were hanging. They couldn’t believe this pip-squeak stole their game. Instead of celebrating, she just turned around, marched off the field, and said, ‘Come on, Unc. Let’s go home.’”
I let out a sharp laugh that makes me lean forward. “She sounds like a little spitfire.”
“She is. Ella is gonna have her hands full with that one.” His dimples appear as he smiles.
I’m just about to ask about his relationship with Ella when the Law & Order theme song sounds. I look down at my phone. It’s Kevin. Why in the world is he calling me at five in the morning? I answer it in case it’s an emergency.
“Hi, babe, are you okay?” I say into the phone.
“Yeah, I’m just checking on you,” he says, and I relax a bit. I look up at Jax who is watching me on the phone.
I rise from my chair to find privacy. “I’m fine. Hang on one second.” I put Kevin on mute and then open the door to the hallway. It is now lined with people, many of them asleep, some talking to others. I don’t want Kevin to know I’m in a hospital, so I need to find somewhere quiet. The hallway is not going to be that spot. I don’t think there will be a quiet spot anywhere for the rest of the night.
Backing through the door, I close it behind me and walk into the bathroom of Jax’s hospital room. Safely enclosed in the tiny space, I talk low, “Sorry about that.”
“Why are you whispering?”
Shit. “No, I’m just waking up. I was sleeping.”
“Okay,” he says, unconvinced. “Did you lose power?”
“No. We’re still good here.”
“Kelli’s Facebook post said you lost power hours ago.”
Double shit. “Did we? I don’t know. I’ve been asleep.”
“This is why I wanted you to come to my place. I don’t like the idea of you girls being alone. What if something happens to you?”
I don’t answer. There’s no right way to answer that—he’s right—a normal girlfriend would want to be with her boyfriend during a blackout. The line remains silent.
“Do you mind if I go back to sleep? I’ll call you in the morning. I promise.”
Kevin lets out a sound that radiates disappointment and annoyance. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s late. He’s tired, and there’s a serious storm outside that has everyone a little panicked.
“Yes. Call me. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Bye.”
I open the bathroom door and see Jax’s handsome face staring straight at me. “You didn’t tell him where you were.”
With a rise of my brows, I hold the phone up in the air and make a hand motion to say, “you are correct.”
I take a seat on the edge of the mattress before I realize that I took a seat on his bed. It’s a spot people who care about the other person in his condition would sit in. It also means our bodies are touching in some way. Even with the blanket between us, my back is up against his good leg. I should get up and move, but that would be even more distracting than just staying here. So I’ll just stay and pretend I meant to sit here.
If Jax is surprised by my location, he doesn’t show it. He just looks on, waiting for me to answer his comment.
“Telling him where I was would require me telling him about you.”
He nods. “Ashamed?”
“With every part of my being.”
He lets out a deep breath. His shoulders fall back onto the bed, I hadn’t realized they were so tense. “Tell me about him. Is it serious?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Humor me.”
I bite my lip and then answer, “We’ve been together two years. He wants me to move in. I’m considering it.”
“Only considering it? I thought girls were anxious to move in and then get engaged. Isn’t it usually the guy who has to consider things?”
“Well, I was burned in the past by this guy that I really loved so excuse me if I am a little jaded.” My words aren’t bitter or full of anger, simply matter-of-fact.
“Why are you living a life you don’t want?”
“Excuse me?”
“In a job, you don’t love. With a man, you can’t commit to. I know I robbed you of your passion, but you’re just cashing it in at this point.”
“Wow. And to think, I was starting to warm up to you.”
“Trish, listen to me.” Jax places a hand on my thigh, the contact causing me to stop breathing for a moment.
I follow the path from his callused hand, up his forearm where the IV is inserted. Across his jaw with the day-old stubble that’s grown in, up his beautiful face, and into his intense, almond-shaped eyes. He said to listen, but all I can do right now is feel his hand and see his face. The two have me in sensory overload, I don’t know if my ears will even work.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers with utter conviction and I think my heart actually stops beating. “Don’t let what I did to you in the past destroy your future. I can’t erase what happened—no one can. But you can control what you do with the rest of your life.”
My lips part as I try to will my heart and brain to move. “You abandoned me for years, and now you want to make sure I’m okay?”
“I’m not saying I have the right—”
“You don’t. You lost that right when you took the most sacred gift I could offer and tarnished it. I was in love with you.” My voice shakes with the admission.
“I know.” He bows his head and removes his hand from my thigh to rub his eyes. “You know, I um, they’re not…” He takes a breath. “There’s never been someone since you. Not in that way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Oh, no you get me wrong. I fucked a lot of girls but nothing like...” His voice trails off.
“This is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. It’s just…I don’t want you thinking I screwed you over and became this amazing guy for every other girl.” His admission doesn’t make me feel better nor does it make me hate him more.
I look down at my fingers. They’re lightly tracing the words he just said on the inside of my palm as if trying to engrain them in my skin forever. I’m sorry.
“Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” he breaks the silence. “You could have bailed, but you didn’t. You’re a better person than me.”
“No, I’m just a glutton for punishment.” I surprise myself by laughing a little with the comment.
He laughs, too, but then his face turns serious. “I’m scared. Am I allowed to say that? I’ve never had surgery before.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s just an arm and a leg. Not like they’re performing open heart surgery.”
“You’re right. I’m…” His eyes look around as if looking for the right words. “I’m glad I’m not alone. I’m so tired of being alone.”
You can make someone out to be the devil, yet we all have a vulnerable side.
As if on autopilot, I lean over and place my palm on his cheek. When my fingers fall into the hair on the side of his head, he closes his eyes and leans into my palm. My thumb rubs against the stubble as I comfort him in the way loved ones do.
This hardened man who played the villain to my adult life is showing me his weakness. The vulnerability is beautiful and sincere, just like the boy he once was.
It’s also dangerous as hell.
The door opening breaks our moment of, whatever this is, and the nurse walks in followed by an orderly and a doctor.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Abler. We’re ready to bring you in.”
I step aside as the doctor explains to Jax where his bones are broken and what the surgery will entail. I gather my belongings to leave.
“Trish,” Jax calls from the bed. I turn around to face him, his eyes full of worry. “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”
I nod.
He lets out a shaky breath and swallows. “Okay,” he says to the doctor as they roll him out of the room.
And just like that I'm standing alone again in the dusty, stale room where the man who haunts my dreams is being cared for. If you told me twenty-four hours ago, I’d be sitting by his side, I would have laughed and said you were crazy. Perhaps I’m the crazy one.
How can someone who hasn't seen me in so many years know my dreams and fears as if we’ve spoken everyday? He was right about so many things but he was wrong about one: No matter what I do for the rest of my life, his memory will always be at the forefront. When someone impacts your life with such an intensity, that fire will forever simmer deep inside you.
Jax Davis is my past. And if I want a future I have to get out of here before he sparks that flame even more.