Saving Ella (26 page)

              “I’m not stringing anyone along Annie, I adore Ella, fuck I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love her. Selena is nothing to me, I’m just helping her out of an awkward situation and it benefits Mercy’s at the same time.” I rubbed the knot that had taken up residence in my neck. “Perhaps I could have handled the situation a little better though. I’ve had a rough day, I just snapped.” Annie shook her head as she leant against the kitchen bench.

             
“Do you wonder if Ella’s step-father used that excuse on her?” My eyes snapped to Annie’s. “Do you think he hit her and told her it was because he had a bad day?”

             
“I didn’t hit Ella Annie,” I growled.

             
“Of course you didn’t, but you still hurt her. You basically told her she wasn’t good enough to be seen at a fancy ball with you.” I groaned.

             
“That’s not what I meant, she hates crowds and this crowd is going to be full of women like Selena, fuck, like her mother and worse. I wouldn’t put her through that.” Annie smiled.

             
“And that’s how you should have explained it to her.” Annie sighed. “Don’t push her too hard Jax. She’s fragile, she has trust issues which she is completely entitled to. You need to do right by her, always, even after a bad day. If you don’t think you can handle that then you need to back off now, before things go too far.” Annie saw the situation for exactly what it was. I needed to be more for Ella, stronger and no excuse would pardon me.

             
“Thanks Annie,” I sighed. She gave me a quick hug before seeing me out the door.

             
Now I sat on my couch, a glass of whiskey hung precariously from my fingers, my head bowed in shame. I had let Ella down, I had broken a promise, again. In this moment, the tattoo at my back carried the heavy burden of shame and truth. Redemption was not for me, I had failed Sarah and now Ella. As that thought crossed my mind, Ella’s words echoed in my ears. “Sarah would have died alone and cold rather than in a warm safe place.” The truth in her words stung me. I couldn’t save Sarah, but I gave her all I could and that was more than anyone had ever given her. I swallowed down my whiskey and quickly pored another, I needed the detachment tonight, I needed to escape. Thoughts of Ella would either drive me to ring her or worse yet, drive me to Rebecca’s to confront her. She didn’t need that bullshit right now. I would explain myself, make this right somehow, but she needed some room to see and think clearly. Remembering Selena’s pleading eyes made me shudder, that girl knew how to play with the best of them. She knew exactly what she had to say to get what she wanted. I was taking her to this stupid fucking ball, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. It wasn’t at all how I expected Thanksgiving to go, in fact, I had already spoken to Annie about having them all come out to my place for the night, perhaps Charlie and Rebecca too. Of course Annie had offered to cook, which was a good thing, considering my inability to boil so much as water. Then another memory consumed me. Fuck, Ella’s dad had died on Thanksgiving. How the fuck could I have let that gold nugget of information slip? I stood angrily and picked up the closest thing to me which happened to be my guitar. I swung it hard against the brick fireplace and it shattered just as my conscience did. I was taking Selena to the Thanksgiving Ball on the anniversary of Ella’s father’s death. I roared with anger at my own stupidity. Gripping the ledge of the fireplace until my knuckles turned white, all the hate, guilt and anger inside of me simmered dangerously close to the surface. With a long breath I spun around and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, gulping with furious impatience straight from the bottle.

             
No, redemption wasn’t for me. If God was looking down on me right now, his head would hang in shame, his heart would be broken, just like Sarah’s, just like Ella’s. All the blood on my hands, the broken promises, the women I had used, they were all decisions I had made, wrong decisions that hurt people, killed people. Finishing off the bottle I sank into an abyss of shame and self-loathing. The walls around me spun out of control, just like my life, the ceiling over my head seemed to be falling on top of me. What the fuck had I done, I had ruined everything. With that failing thought, I descended into the sweet silence of unconsciousness.

             
As I walked down the narrow hallway of the crumbling building, my heart pounded with fear. Not fear of my own death, but those around me. My fellow soldier’s at arms, Dillon who covered my back. The heat was unbearable, thick, like a living entity that coated your skin and sucked the life right from you. At the end of the familiar hallway I nudged the door open and the acrid scent of mortar and death gripped my lungs, the vision of blood seared my eyes. I fell to my knees, my eyes squeezed shut with the effort it took not to be sick, but it was useless. The bile rose in my throat and when I opened my eyes again, the room had changed. It was Mercy’s bathroom, again a familiar nightmare. The dream has so far replayed with echoing precision, an exact duplicate of the same dream, over and over, except for here, now in the bathroom at Mercy’s Shelter. It looked the same, but it felt different, warmer and the air not as thick, the smell of blood sweeter rather than rotten. I looked toward the shower stall where I knew her body would lay. I didn’t want to see her again, but I was drawn to her. Looking over her lifeless bloodied body was the price I paid for my failure of her. I saw her tiny foot first, followed by the long pale leg, her body crumpled against the wall, blood pooled around her broken form. The whimper from my throat was weak in comparison to the rage I felt at finding her like this. This was when I usually woke, when the nightmare became too much and I screamed myself awake. But not tonight, tonight the lifeless body of Sarah moved and with horrified fascination I continued to watch her. Her eyes blinked and her head rose to take me in. She smiled, she was happy to see me no doubt pleased I was still here so she could scream and yell how I failed her. Her head titled to one side and a surprising look of compassion and comfort consumed her features. I tried to whisper I was sorry but the words would not come. A tear escaped my eye and fell uselessly down my cheek. Tears wouldn’t bring her back. Sarah shook her head slowly, her bright green eyes never strayed from mine.

             
“There’s nothing to forgive.” My heart lurched at her words. “I’m the one who is sorry, I let you down and I’m sorry, but you have to let me go now Jax. It’s time to let the past rest.” With that her head lolled back lifelessly.

             
I woke with a start, sweat dripping from my still clothed body on the couch in my living room. The sun shone through the drapes without mercy, scorching my skin with its touch. I glanced to the empty bottle of whiskey and my stomach pitched, my head pounding with the effort not to be sick. My mouth was as dry as the desert and tasted like ass, or so I assumed, having never tasted ass before. The lingering impressions of my dream held me rooted to my seat. Perhaps forgiveness wasn’t what I needed. Maybe what I needed was to finally accept Sarah’s fate and move forward, just like Ella had said. Fuck, this was too profound for a Friday morning. I glanced at my watch, shit, it was after nine and I was late. Mercy would be pissed, and just like clock-work my phone belted out the familiar ACDC riff. I held it to my ear but didn’t get a chance to speak.

             
“You’re late, David is covering but he did the 2am shift, so he’s exhausted. You’d better be on your way and if not, a note from your mom won’t cut it Jaxon James Carter.” I chuckled and rubbed my head, stalking through the house to quickly change.

             
“Yes I’m on my way, and I need to speak to David so tell him not to go anywhere. I had a fucked up dream that needs his psychoanalyzing. Tell him I’ll be there soon, and mom, I hate it when you call me that.” She was quiet for a moment.

             
“Jax, is everything okay?” In the blink of an eye her voice had gone from pissed off momma bear to the angelic guardian I adored.

             
“Not really mom. I fucked up but I’m gonna’ make it right. I need to talk to David about Sarah and once I get that cleared I can make everything right again.”

             
“Oh baby. Should I check on Ella?” She didn’t even have to ask me who or how I had fucked up, she just knew.

             
“I’d appreciate that. She stayed with Rebecca last night and she’ll be working today.”

             
“Okay honey, I’ll stop by Bouquets before I head home, and Jax, you’re only human. We all make mistakes. It’s important we learn from them and try not to make them again though.” I slipped the phone from my hand while I pulled a fresh shirt on.

             
“Shit, I know. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up and raced around the house looking for my keys. The urgency to my start helped me push the sharp hangover from the forefront of my mind. I had to get to work, I needed to talk to David, but more than anything I needed to see Ella.

             
The morning after the incident between Jax and Selena I awoke in Rebecca’s bed, still dressed in my clothes from the night before with a pounding head protesting the deflowering of my vodka virginity. I officially hated vodka. Rebecca and I had worked our way through her entire wardrobe, and it was indeed full of clothes that had not been touched in years. I found myself with a suitcase full of perfectly descent clothes which made me incredibly happy, but the sting from Jax’s actions and words the night before still broke my heart. The next morning I rode to work with Rebecca, we were late but since Rebecca was the boss and she didn’t seemed fazed I didn’t worry too much. We were met at the store by a worried looking Mercy. She didn’t ask any questions, just bought a simple bouquet of tulips and made sure I had her number to call her if I needed to.

             
The following days crept by slowly. Jax never attempted to contact me, and that stung. Annie had told me that he had stopped by the diner to ask how I was doing. The fact he couldn’t pick up the phone and ask me himself was absurd and hurtful. Rebecca said he was working with Dave through some issues. He apparently needed to sort his shit out before he even considered seeing me again and helping me to tackle my shit. I considered leaving so many times. I’d even started taking my backpack everywhere I went again, just in case I decided to run. Something held me to Claymont though. Whether it was Jax, Mercy, Annie and Eli, Rebecca or a combination of all I didn’t know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to walk away. Rita had tried to call me several times, but I wasn’t ready to speak to her yet. Rebecca deflected her calls which were apparently growing in angst. Finally, on the day before Thanksgiving, the day before Jax and Selena’s date and the anniversary of my dad’s death, she called Bouquets and I answered.

             
“Fuck Ella, I’ve been trying to ring you for the last week!” Rita shrieked and I pulled the receiver away from my ear.

             
“Chill out Rita, I’m here, I’m fine. I’ve been busy, sorry.” I grumbled my excuse as pathetic as I felt.

             
“Do you think I would keep calling, over and over and over if it wasn’t important?” My stomach sank. How could I have let some childish boy drama foreshadow the real problems in my life? My hands trembled and a cold sweat broke out on my brow.

             
“Don’t freak Ella,” I heard Rita say with calm but firm words. “A man approached me after work last week. He said his name is Dillon Montgomery and he’s investigating a man by the name of Marcus Fairmont.” Hearing Marcus’s name made bile rise in my throat.

             
“Ella, are you alright?” Rebecca asked from across the room. I wiped my brow and fought to stay focused as I listened to Rita.

             
“He said that Marcus Fairmont was your step-father Ella, is that right?”

             
“Yes,” I whispered.

             
“He asked questions, about you Ella.”

             
“What sort of questions?”

             
“He wanted to know how I knew you, had I seen bruises on you, if I knew Marcus.” My brain couldn’t work out why this Dillon would be asking such questions. If he was working for Marcus, why would he ask about my bruises? Why would he be asking about Marcus?

             
“What did you tell him?” I murmured.

             
“Sweetie, I told him nothing, but he said he is working for a friend in Claymont to make sure you are safe and he gave me his card.” Suddenly everything fell into place. This must have been Jax’s ex-military friend, the man who Jax had looking into Marcus. Why he was there, in Dunston had me a little confused, but he definitely wasn’t being discreet like Jax had assured me. My panic disappeared, followed quickly with anger.

             
“Thanks for not saying anything Rita, I appreciate it.”

             
“Is everything okay hun, you sound tired?” I was tired, I had been plagued with nightmares and restlessness all week.

             
“I’m fine, I’ll call you in a couple of days. Please don’t say anything else to this Dillon, I’ll take care of it.” As I hung up the phone I grabbed my mobile.