Because this feels personal. Because, on some level, I feel remotely responsible for their deaths.
He only wants to protect me. Right? What he did wasn’t from a dark place, it was from a place of protection.
Right?
That leads me into my next thoughts that had me lying awake, staring at the ceiling. A man doesn’t kill another man for a woman he only thinks of as a friend. A man does that for someone he cares about. Does Jax have those kinds of feelings for me?
Over the past few weeks, I have become familiar with some of the things he says and I can sometimes string together a few words to make something make sense.
What he said yesterday had some similar words, but I can’t put it all together.
“Uvek c´u se pobrinuti da budeš siguran.”
All I can piece together is that he will always do something. But what? Based on the context, was he saying he will kill for me? Do I want that?
As I unhook Maisey from the cleaning stall and lead her over to her stall, I hear a motorcycle in the distance. I don’t miss how my heart jumps in my chest and all my anger from yesterday dissolves into a warmer feeling of relief and eagerness to see him.
After I get Maisey settled, I walk to the big door that faces the house and my two paddocks and see Jax walking down the incline toward me. He’s in his usual black fatigues and boots, his t-shirt is stretched across his chest, molding to each dip and curve of his pecks.
He looks freshly shaved, but there are dark circles under his eyes, and I wonder if he was awake all night, too. Do I do that to him? His hands are fisted at his sides, the veins in his forearms bulge under the skin.
His ice-blue eyes are locked on me as he stalks in my direction. My heart flutters faster the closer he gets, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to have feelings for someone. Is this what everyone else feels?
What if he’s coming to tell me he’s leaving and won’t be back? What if he hates me now? The thought manifests in a painful twist that shoots to the center of my chest.
My heart squeezes and the backs of my eyes sting as panic nearly crushes my chest, making it so I can barely get a full breath. Trying to stop the trembling in my fingers, I curl them into my palms and remind myself that I’m standing in front of my stable and there is a tree next to me.
Maisey huffs inside her stall behind me like she can feel my distress and I count to ten in my head. When he’s just within arm’s reach, he stops, and I suck in a breath to wait and see what he’s going to say.
His eyes roam over my face, and he tilts his head to the side. “I’m sorry, Lepa, I should not have said the things I said to you yesterday. I am not sorry for what I did to those men, I will always make sure you are safe, but tell me if you want me to go and I will go.”
The breath lodged in my lungs rushes out in one big flutter, my chest deflating. His accent is thick, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it quite that thick, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “Tell me what you said yesterday.” I clumsily repeat back what he said.
One side of his lips tick up and he lifts his hand to slide his knuckles down my cheek. “I already told you, I will always make sure you are safe.”
I nod as my eyes fill with tears. “I don’t want youto go.”
He curls his fingers around my neck, his thumb sliding across my skin to my ear. “Then I won’t go.”
“Brana?” Saying his given name out loud feels strange, but I like the feeling of intimacy between us because of it.
“Yes, Lepa.”
Curling my fingers over his forearm, I lean my face into his palm. “I’m sorry I got so angry with you.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize to me, you never have to apologize to me.”
My arms go around him before I even think about what I’m doing, squeezing his ribcage. With my cheek pressed against his chest, I close my eyes and inhale leather, soap, and the unique smell of Jax. His arms go around me, squeezing me to him, a large hand splays across my back and the other cups the back of my head, and I feel like I’m in the safest place in the world.
“I have a confession to make.” He says into my hair on top of my head.
“Hmm?”
“Even if you told me you wanted me to leave, I couldn’t do it. I can’t leave you.”
“Good. I worried all night that you might not come back.”
He slides his hands across my back and grabs my arms to hold me in front of him. I look up and he locks his eyes on me, pressing his forehead to mine. “Next time, instead of losing sleep, call me and I will soothe your worries.”
