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)
We’re exaggerating to scare the crap out of him, and it’s working. His lips are trembling. He looks like a scared little kid. I’d feel guilty if he didn’t deserve it.
“I just wanted us to try again,” he whispers.
“She doesn’t want to try again,” I snap. “She wants nothing to do with you. I know it’s difficult to move on, but you need to leave her alone. No more hanging around outside her house. No more intimidation. No more stalking. If I hear of one more instance, there will be blood and a lot of it. It won’t be quick either.”
Axel takes a step back. For a second, it looks as if he’s going to return to his tough-guy act, but then his shoulders deflate. He nods. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Trouble’s exactly what you’ll get,” Peter says, “if you don’t take this warning seriously.”
“You can look me up if you want. Jaxson Jordan. I’m a writer now, but my service history is listed online. You’re out of your depth. You’ll drown if you carry on.”
“I p-promise,” Axel says. “I’m done. Okay? It’s over. She’ll never see me again.”
“She better not,” I growl, “or we won’t be so nice next time.”
He nods again, then hurries past us, stopping once to glance over his shoulder. He’s wearing a face of pure terror. Our job is done.
I wasn’t lying. If he ever tries to hurt my woman, there will be blood, which won’t be mine. Once he’s gone, Peter and I return to the car.
“Damn, Jax,” he says. “You went hard.”
“I had to,” I reply. “I can’t let him threaten her and make her feel scared in her own home.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking about Mallory.”
There’s nothing to say. He’s right. I can’t deny it.
I did this for Zoey.
CHAPTER 15
Zoey
I’ll be there in ten minutes, Jax texts, my belly buzzing with the most energetic butterflies. Despite everything, this is our first date.
Natasha grins at me from the other side of the library desk. The same grin lifts her lips whenever she sees me check my phone. At least somebody can enjoy this without thinking about all the ways it could crash and burn.
“You look great,” Natasha whispers. “Ready for your first proper date.”
I smile with her, allowing some of her enthusiasm to seep into my mood. Just because there’s disaster lurking, it doesn’t mean I can’t savor the joy. It just means I have to pretend this day, this date, is all that exists.
“Thank you,” I reply. “I just hope nobody sees us.”
“He said he’s taking you outside the city, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, the chances are low, but sneaking around, hiding our relationship…”
“Relationship?” Natasha says. “That’s a big word.”
“It is, but it feels like it fits.”
Her smile widens, and then we go on with our reading. A little while later, my phone buzzes again.
I’m waiting outside, and I’ve got good news.
I gather up my courage, forcibly slowing my breathing.
“Hey.” Natasha stands, placing her hand on my arm. “Forget about everything else. You deserve to enjoy this.”
“It’s not that, not just that.”
“No?”
“It’s seeing him in person. Everything is so much easier over text.”
“You can’t have a relationship solely over text, and you have no reason to be nervous. He’s clearly as obsessed with you as you are with him.”
“Who said I was obsessed?”
She tilts her head, giving me a knowing look.
“Okay, guilty.”
I leave the library, shouldering my bag, thinking about what Natasha said about my outfit. Since I knew I’d be meeting Jax after work, I wore my most stylish jeans today, faded blue with tears dotted here and there. I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt that matches my black boots.
My efforts are rewarded as I approach Jax’s car. He climbs out, his pecs practically tearing through his pale green shirt. His eyes roam shamelessly up and down my body, the curve of his smirking lips telling me he’s pleased.
“It’s so difficult not to kiss you,” he says, stopping a few inches short.
A few inches is fine, but it might as well be miles. Closing the distance feels—no, is—impossible since it would lead to so much drama if somebody saw us.
“I know the feeling,” I murmur.
He opens the passenger-side door for me. “I’m going to be a gentleman this evening. Just you see.”
I grin. “Well, this is a good start.”
Once we’re in the car together, the desire gets even stronger. Being closed away within the confines of the vehicle sends lies into my thoughts—lies like nobody can see us or would care anyway. I sit with my hands in my lap, pressing them together to relieve some of the stress of not kissing or touching him.
After he’s pulled away, he reaches over and takes my hand. I hate my first instinct to look out the window, checking if anybody’s watching, but we’re driving through the city too fast for anybody to peer in here and work out what’s going on. I squeeze his hand in return.