And as I look down now to read over the results for what must be the fifteenth time today, a small grin forms on my face. She passed. With flying colors. And I couldn't be happier. I didn't want to have the misfortune of ending up with someone tainted again, and I shudder at the memory of how I had to send a few girls home soon after they arrived because they didn't pass my tests.
I notice movement on the smaller window on my screen, and I see Jackson punching in the code to my office, a code that only he and I are privy to. All of my electronic equipment, the phone system, files and documents are kept in this room, and I make sure they are kept safe and secure at all times.
He swings open the door with a smile on his face. That's the thing about Jax. He's always in a good mood it seems, always finding the silver lining in everything. He's a lot like his father in that aspect.
My uncle was a great man, and I miss him dearly. That man saved my life, but I could not save him from the cancer that ate away at his body until he was nothing but an empty shell of his former self.
Even at my uncle's funeral, Jax was cracking jokes and telling stories about his old man, making everyone laugh amidst all the tears from losing such a kind-hearted soul.
I wish I could share the same blue-bird-on-my-shoulder-shitting-fucking-rainbows attitude. But, of course, I have more of a doom-and-gloom sort of temperament.
"You'restilllooking at the test results?" Jackson asks, but there is no real curiosity in his tone. He knows my rituals and has, reluctantly, become accustomed to them.
I give him a simple nod and look up at him. He reminds me so much of his late father, my uncle, since they both share the same dark hair and warm, steel-gray eyes.
I don't remember my biological father, and I've only seen one picture of him decades ago when I was a small boy. We shared the same dark hair also, but I don't remember if we resembled each other in any other way. However, who knows if my mother was even telling the truth about the man in the photo.
She liked to lie…about everything.
"How is she doing?" Jackson asks, and his sudden interest in one of my girls is unusual. Usually he just goes about his business, helping me here and there with bringing them to me and sending them away. Other than that, he minds his own business.
I think that's why we get along so well.
"I haven't been in her room since the first night. You know my rules," I tell him.
He sighs and plops down into a leather chair not far from me. "I do. And I also know that you're keeping tabs on her from your little camera feed you have on your comp." His fingers pick at the stitching on the arms of the chair, and it drives me up the wall. When he notices my obvious discomfort, he instantly stops. "Sorry," he says with a smirk.
My eyes narrow as I glare at my cousin. "Why the sudden interest, Jax?"
He shakes his head and leans forward in his chair. "It's not what you think. I just wanted to make sure that bump on her head didn't give her a concussion or anything." He rests his elbows on his knees. "Was she acting strange when she woke up?"
I hesitate.Strange? Perhaps. But it's not like I even know the girl.
Jackson can sense my apprehension, however. "What's wrong?"
"She seemed…confused."
He considers that for a moment. "That could be a sign of a concussion. What was she confused about exactly?"
"Everything," I confess.
Jackson stands suddenly. "Maybe I should go in there and talk to her. Maybe I could ---."
"No," I snap, suddenly feeling very protective and…jealous over this girl I barely know. "I will talk to her tonight. At dinner. I will find out how she's feeling and if she's aware of her situation."
He sighs, knowing that he won't be able to change my mind. "Fine. I'll probably be hanging out in the kitchen. If anything happens during dinner, come get me. I can check her vitals and everything in the matter of a few minutes, make sure she's okay."
"I will."
"And see if you can find anything out about the bruises on her body. There were some fresh and some old. Someone's been hurting her…for a while," he says, his eyes turning dark.
I'm taken aback by his sudden protectiveness over her. A part of me wants to scream out to him thatshe's mine. But I stop myself from telling him that. Instead, I agree by giving him a simple nod.
I watch as Jackson leaves, and then my gaze locks on my computer screen once more. The girl's still lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and inadvertently right at the undetectable camera concealed in the ceiling fan. Tears stream down her pretty face, and I watch her full lips open on a sob.
She's been crying almost the entire time she's been here. And while normally I wouldn't give a shit or even think twice about it, for some reason, with this girl, I feel…strangely guilty about keeping her here.
I think back to what Jackson told me about the bruises covering her back. And even though I shouldn't care about what happened to her before she got here, I can't stop from wondering…and worrying. Who was hurting her?
