Hard to Forget

Page 20

I wish there was something I could say to make it better for him, but there isn’t. I can’t make it go away. I wish I could, but I can’t.

“I was just out, minding my own fucking business,” he says and I realize he’s going to tell me what happened. “I was meeting a friend, but I ended up at the wrong club. The one I was meant to be at was only down the road, so I walked. I turned down an alley to get away from the rush of people, so I could get to the club quicker. It was long and fucking dark, and the further I walked in, the more I realized that it was the wrong turn.”

My heart flutters with fear for him.

“I was about to turn around when I heard a scream. It was a woman. I couldn’t just turn back, I needed to check out what was happening, make sure she was okay, so I picked up to a run and went to check it out. I came into a dark clearing, and under a dull streetlight, I saw eight men. They had a woman on the ground, and they were…”

I swallow and look away, because I know what he’s going to say.

“They were…”

“I get it,” I say softly.

His eyes flick to mine and there’s pain in their depths.

“It wasn’t just that, they had guns and knives. She was so battered, so bloodied, it was horrific. I stood there, frozen to the ground, wanting to kill every single one of them. I’m not stupid though. They had guns and knives. If I went in there, I’d be dead in a matter of seconds. So, I did something fucking stupid.”

I wait, holding my breath.

“I got my phone out and I recorded them. I figured if I took it to the police, I’d have a better chance of getting the girl the help she needed. I caught all their faces, and then I turned to call the police when one of them saw me. I don’t recall a great deal after that, all I know is I ran, two of them caught up to me and a huge fight broke out. I was beating them, they were beating me and then I was knocked out.”

Oh God.

“I woke in the hospital. The police told me someone had been walking by and heard the commotion, and called them. They got to me in the nick of time, quite literally—I had six stab wounds, a broken nose, a black eye and a seriously fucked-up body.” He turns and lifts his leg, rolling up his pants and showing me some angry purple scars. Then he drops his pants slightly and shows me more on his hips. God, poor thing.

“Anyway, I showed them the video and they recognized a few of the faces. These men are what I suppose you could call members of a gang that’s directly linked to a massive drug cartel. It’s a messy situation. It was enough for the police to make an arrest, but only on the ones they could locate. It opened up a world of trouble for the gang and before I knew it, I was receiving threats against my life. People like that don’t take kindly to people like me, who expose everything.”

“Jax,” I say softly.

He shrugs. “It was a fucked-up situation, and the worst of it is, it was just me in the wrong place at the wrong time. I should have walked away, but me taking that video was the only way I could help that girl. It killed me that I couldn’t have gotten in there and fucking beat every one of those assholes to a pulp, but I’m not a stupid man.”

“They would have killed you,” I say.

“Yeah, they would have. They killed her.”

I flinch. “Oh, Jax.”

“So I chose my life over hers.”

Oh, no.

“No, you chose not to try and be a hero when you knew where it would have ended. You took care of yourself, but there’s nothing wrong with that. You didn’t know her.”

“They were fucking hurting her,” he rasps.

“And you did the best you could with what you had. God, Jax, you can’t be expected to get killed protecting a woman you don’t know. It’s a cruel, heartless world and things like that happen every day. It’s horrible, and unfair, but it’s fact. It wouldn’t have made any difference if you stepped in except that you’d be dead too. You did the right thing.”

He says nothing, because he doesn’t believe he did the right thing. That makes my heart ache for him.

“It was a bad situation,” I say gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“And in the end I wasted my fucking time, didn’t I?” he snaps. “Because they’re going to get me any fucking way. Those men won’t sit back and just let me live peacefully after revealing so much to the cops. They’re going to want revenge, and they know who I am and where to find me.”

“How did they find out who you were?”

“One of them got hold of my wallet.” He barks a laugh. “Can you fucking believe that?”

“Jax…”

“Livin’ every fucking day looking over my shoulder, wondering when they’re going to make their move. Today they started, and now it won’t fucking end.”

“I won’t let them get close to you,” I say and his eyes flash to my face.

“You’re amazing at what you do, Delaney. But you’re still just one person. You’re like me against them. If they want to get to me, they will.”

He stands and walks up the stairs to his room, and I want to scream with frustration. I want to help him. I want him to believe this will all be okay, but I also understand why he thinks it won’t be. If it was me in his situation, I’d be terrified too. I sigh and stand, throwing my beer bottle out. I can’t have any more than one.

Especially not after tonight.

I go into the library and try to get some rest, but it’s pointless. I lay in the bed until the sun sets and night falls, but I’m not having any such luck. I get up and peek out into the living area to see Jax sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter, shirtless, beer in hand, head lowered.

I should leave him be, but I can’t. Instead I step out and walk towards him, wanting to help, knowing how terrified he must be. He will never show it, because he’s far too rugged for that, but it has to be there, deep down. He’s human, and any normal person would be shaken up after what he’s been through.

“Hey there, handsome,” I say, sitting beside him.

“Sorry about before,” he mutters. “Not trying to be a dick.”

I laugh softly. “You’re not being a dick.”

He glances at me, his grey eyes tired and worn. “You’re a good woman, Delaney. Too good for a job like this. Too good to be risking your life for me.”

I shrug. “That’s your opinion, but it isn’t mine.”

“Did it feel good to do what you did today?” he asks.

“No, Jax, it didn’t,” I tell him truthfully.

“Did saving my life make it all worthwhile?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Absolutely.”

He studies my face.

“Who is going to save you, kitten?” he rasps.

My heart starts pounding.

“I don’t need saving.”

He reaches over and I freeze as his thumb gently glides over my bottom lip. God he’s drunk, I can smell the beer on his breath. “But you do. You just don’t see it.”

“Jax,” I whisper, knowing I should pull back, knowing I should protest or at least try and put up a fight.

“You hide it behind your sass, but you’re as broken as the rest of us. Saving other people is something you choose because you’ve given up trying to save yourself.”

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