He finishes his drink and stares ahead for a while before finally speaking. “I stabbed my stepfather if you can call that piece of shit afather.”
The gasp leaves my lips before I have time to stop it. When I stare at him, his expression is guarded as I try to connect that piece of information to the man sitting in front of me.
“You don’t have to say anything, Soph. For this one night, just be there for me, so I don’t feel so fucking alone.”
I place my hand over his again. “I’m here, Jax.”
Jax takes a sip of his water before standing up. “Let’s sit over there at that booth.”
I follow his hand, pointing at a free booth near the back of the bar. “Sure. Let me grab us more water, and I’ll be there.”
As we sit next to each other on one side of the booth, Jax drums the table with his fingers. I move my hand over his, stopping his movement. “Jax, you know you don’t have to be nervous around me. Right?”
He lets out a huff. “Yeah, but how the fuck do I even start with my life story?”
“What if you start from the beginning? I’m interested in hearing about the time before you were in foster care,” I tellhim and look into his mesmerizing eyes, full of mixed emotions.
“Trisha had me at a young age, less than a year after her high school graduation. She blamed me for ruining her life. For the first two years of my life, we lived in a small one-bedroom apartment with whoever she was currently dating. She married my first stepfather shortly after meeting him at a local supermarket. That bastard only gave me his last name and a few broken ribs before he was sentenced for manslaughter after a bar fight got out of hand when I was ten. When my grandparents died within a year of each other, we moved into their house since Trisha didn’t have much money. Shortly after we moved, she met husband number two and married him when asshole number one died in prison. Another one of her amazing choices. Honestly, most of my mom’s ex-husbands are why the gene pool needs a lifeguard.”
Jax plays with the slice of lemon in his water and takes a long breath before continuing. “At least he didn’t touch me. But my mother wasn’t as lucky. I was the one who called the police one time to get him arrested. Fuck, I still have nightmares because of that motherfucker. But he wasn’t the worst of them.”
Tears fall freely down my cheeks and I tighten my hold on his hand, showing my support as he continue his story.
“When he was gone, Trisha wanted to make a change. She started going to church and AA meetings.”
After meeting Trisha earlier today, I’m skeptical about her success with AA meetings. “How did that go?”
“You’d think that her getting her shit together for a moment was a great thing… but it turns out it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. In one of those meetings, she met Arnold, a recovering alcoholic like herself. The first year was fine until Arnold decided to drink with his old buddies one day.” He winces, rubbing his face.
“What went through your head just now?” I ask, squeezing his hand.
“I’m just thinking how I was drinking myself stupid when alcohol is the main reason my childhood was full of unfortunate events,” he admits and rubs his face more.
“You can drink sometimes, but if it starts to control your life, then we have a problem.”
“The thing is… I remember most of that night like it happened yesterday. It hurts to think how disastrous things could have ended up. Like I could be dead. Or I could be responsible for another person’s death—” His voice breaks, and he glances my way with such sadness that I haven’t seen often. I scoot closer so I can hug him.
Jax’s voice gets shaky as he speaks. “When Arnold moved towards me with that crazy gleam in his eyes, holding a baseball bat, I just knew what to do. He had spent the day drinking and told me how he wished I was dead. I was scared for my life. I knew I had to do something. I just…I?—”
His tears fall on those high cheekbones I have admired many times, and his beautiful green eyes are red-rimmed. “When he accidentally dropped the bat, I knew it was my moment to strike. I remember how the knife felt in my hand when I buried it in his stomach. How warm his blood was when it covered my hand. The metallic smell of it. Fuck, I remember how his loud grunts echoed around the house. How my—” He hiccups. “—mother ran downstairs and started screaming before calling the police, telling them that her kid tried to kill her husband.”
I can’t hold in my sobs, and I cry as I hug Jax tightly. “I’m sorry, Jax. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault, Soph.” Jax meets my gaze when I start to protest and shakes his head. “Stop it. Let me hug you to get the strength I need right now.”
“Okay.”
His head rests on my shoulder, his tears wetting my dress. We sit there, embracing each other until last call. Then we leave wordlessly for our hotel room.
20
SOPH
Currently playing: MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT by Elley Duhé
Despite my earlier assessment, Jax isn’t that drunk. Sure, he’s had more than a few drinks, but he walked back to our room without incident. Thanks to our hotel's double booking due to a system update, we are sharing one king-size bed for the night.
I didn’t realize how much I would be affected by having Jax next to me for hours. His scent is like a drug to me, pulling me closer, making me want to stay near him. Not to mention how being there for him during one of the most challenging days of his life has opened my eyes to the real Jackson Bennett, and I think I’m starting to develop stronger feelings for my boss. The same boss that I thought I hated only last month.Oh, how ironic.
