Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
“It’s not worth it,” the tattooed man says.
“We took the job,” Leather Jacket snaps. “Get the prick.”
They rush toward Jax like a wave of violent intent, swinging their fists, but Jax ducks aside and hammers a blow into Leather Jacket’s stomach. He keels over, sputtering, and then Jax weaves away from the other man and spins around with a punch that sounds like a hammer blow when it collides with the man’s face. He falls, leaving Axel looking at the two injured men with a lost look on his face.
“Apologize to Zoey,” Jax says, voice dark as he slowly approaches Axel.
Axel seems to want to fight, to maintain his tough-guy façade, but the closer Jax gets, the more he shrinks away.
“Tell. Her. You’re. Sorry.” Jax’s voice trembles like he’s about to lose control. “Now.”
Axel looks at me, eyes glassy. “I’m s-sorry,” he moans. “I just wanted a second chance.”
“No more second chances,” Jax snarls. “Leave. Now.”
Axel turns, head bowed, the other two men following him. They climb into the car and screech away.
Warmth blossoms in my chest, tugging at my heart. Nobody’s ever defended me like that before. Mom’s still staring, but cowardice rules me. I can’t look at her.
She wasn’t supposed to find out so suddenly.
“Explain,” Mom says as Jax approaches. “Why did you say any of that? About Zoey? What the hell are you talking about?”
Jax glances at me. His jaw is clenched with meaning in his eyes.
I’m sorry.
I shake my head. It’s the same thing he often says to me. He has nothing to be sorry about.
“We should talk inside, Mom.”
I finally look at her. She stares back with tears in her eyes.
CHAPTER 24
Jaxson
The more we speak, the more agitated Mallory becomes.
She was sitting when we explained about our initial texts. When I explain how serious our relationship is—the furthest thing from a fling imaginable—she stands quickly and paces behind the couch.
I look at Zoey. She’s leaning forward in her chair, her hands clasped as though praying this will all work out.
“I don’t understand,” she says. “You want to get married one day? To have a family?”
“I know it’s a shock,” I say.
“A shock. Yeah, you could say that. When you said you wanted to meet, Zoey, I thought it was about the other thing. The secret. Or college. I didn’t thi—”
“Wait, what do you mean college?”
Mallory glares at me, but there’s softness in her eyes, too. Or maybe I’m just projecting what I wish her reaction would be.
“You didn’t tell her.”
“I haven’t told her anything,” I say. “It’s been tough, but I made a promise.”
Mallory turns to Zoey. “Jax is the one who paid for your college. We’re not struggling for money, but college tuition is a lot. So when he offered, I accepted.”
“Even though you hate him?” Zoey asks.
“I don’t hate him,” Mallory snaps, stopping her pacing and digging her hands into the back of the sofa cushions. “I hate myself.”
“I don’t understand.”
Zoey looks at me, eyes glistening. My woman has never worn such a complicated expression, betrayal and gratitude warring, lips pursed like she can’t decide if she wants to kiss or yell at me.
“And thank you,” she murmurs a moment later. “I had no idea.”
“I wanted you to get the best education possible. To be able to follow your dreams.”
This was before I knew how badly I needed her. Now that we’ve built a foundation of desire, affection, belonging, lust, and… yes, love, I’m even more confident I’ll always support her. I’ll never let anybody hurt or insult her. I’m going to contact Peter about Axel. That prick needs to get gone.
“Why do you hate yourself?” Zoey asks.
“So let me get this straight,” Mallory says, ignoring her daughter and staring at me instead. “You’ve been dating. You’ve been developing a—God, this sounds strange—a relationship together, but you haven’t told her what happened? Why?”
“I already said. I promised you I wouldn’t.”
Mallory’s expression softens as she returns her gaze to her daughter. “So all this time, as you two have been… doing what you’re doing, you thought Jaxson and I were once an item.”
“Yes,” Zoey whispers, her emotional tone shattering my heart.
It’s because I know how she feels—the jealousy, the sense of possession, of ownership, the pain lancing into us at the thought of the other person being with anybody else.
Mallory walks around the couch and drops onto it with a sigh. She picks at the fabric of the arm, giving me and Zoey a moment to exchange a glance. I want to sit with my woman, wrap my arm around her and hug her close so she knows she never has to worry about us being apart, but that would be a cruel message since she does have to worry.
“This isn’t a fling,” Mallory says after a long pause.
“Not even a little bit,” Zoey replies, her fierce tone making me smile.