Shatter Me (The Jaded Series, #1) (9 page)

“I don’t know what that bastard has done to you, but not all men are like him. I’m not like him. I would never hurt you. Do you understand me, Angel?” He continues to rub his thumbs over my cheeks, watching to see my reaction to his touch and words. I want to believe him so much, but it’s so hard to get over my fear. I’ve lived with it my entire life.

Still looking at him, I lower my hands from my mouth and hold them to my chest. I’ve stopped crying, but still feel overwhelmed by my feelings. He slowly pulls me closer to his hard chest until he’s trapped my hands between him and me. He moves one hand to the back of my head, applying pressure so my cheek rests against his pec. His other hand wraps around my back. I hear the rapid beat of his heart and it somehow helps alleviate the torrent of feelings rushing through me. I ball my hands into fists, grabbing the material of his shirt in the process.

I feel him rest his chin on top of my head and he starts to rock me while whispering reassurances.

“Shh...Bailey. You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m promising you that right now that no one will ever hurt you again. You don’t know it yet, but you can trust me.”

I lift my head and look up at him. “Why?” I whisper back at him. “Why are you willing to promise me that? You don’t even know me.”

“Because no woman should be as afraid as you are. No woman should have that tortured look you have in your eyes. Men are put on earth to protect and cherish women, not harm them. I don’t know what happened to you, but I do know that whatever it was, it was bad.”

His eyes have turned hard again and I suck in a sharp breath. He feels it, closes them again, and breathes in deeply. When he opens his eyes, he’s schooled the intensity in his expression. It now holds determination and some other emotion that I’m too afraid to name. He reaches one hand up to cup the side of my face, his other hand starts rubbing up and down my back.

“I—I better get back out there with Mia.” My words are stuttered.

I don’t want to leave the protection of his arms, but I know that I can’t and shouldn’t stay there any longer. What Jaxon makes me feel when his arms are wrapped around me is both exhilarating and frightful. How can this man, a man that I just met a couple days ago, bring out such strong emotions in me? I know it’s not plausible, but I feel such contentment standing there surrounded by his intoxicating scent and quiet strength.

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Jaxon says, but he still doesn’t release me from his arms or his eyes. It feels like he’s looking into my very soul, into the deepest part of me that no one else has delved. I can’t look away from him. He has captured my gaze and it seems as he has no intention of giving it back.

He flicks his eyes down to my lips and my breath hitches. What would it be like to feel those beautiful full lips against my own? Would they be soft and coaxing or rough and demanding? Would he rub them lightly against my lips waiting for me to open or would they nip and bite, forcing its way into the recesses of my mouth?

What is it about Jaxon that brings these crazy thoughts to my mind? Except for the first few months of mine and Steven’s relationship I’ve never wanted a man to kiss me, never wanted a man to place his lips against my own and entice a reaction out of me.

Although Jaxon has hinted at a darker emotional side, he has been nothing but gentle with me. I know that deep inside Jaxon carries his own demons, and because of those demons he is a hard and dangerous man. I don’t think that Jaxon would ever hurt me, but then again, I never thought Steven would either, and look where that got me.

Suddenly, Jaxon shakes his head as if trying to clear it. He breaks the spell that has captured us both. The arm that is still wrapped around my back falls to his side. He keeps his other hand on the side of my face a few seconds longer before he drops that one too. I reluctantly release the grip that I still have a hold of on his shirt. After taking a deep breath, I take a step back, and then another and another. I’m standing in the doorway now so there are several feet between us. A chill racks my body from the sudden loss of his warmth and I shudder, crossing my arms over my middle. I already miss his body heat against me.

Jaxon reaches one hand up to run it through his hair. He clears his throat and says, “Leave your keys and I’ll bring your stuff from your car up to the apartment. I’ll send someone over to freshen things up a bit. I’ll also get them to put a few things in the fridge for you until you can go shopping.”

“Oh...um...you don’t have to do that.” I shift from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling nervous.

Jaxon sighs and looks down at his feet. He stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets. He glances back up at me. “Angel, please let me do this for you. If you won’t let me help you in any other way, then please let me at least do this for you.”

It’s the look on Jaxon’s face that makes the decision for me. His eyes are pleading with me. This strong and fierce man is begging me with his eyes. It’s such a simple thing, moving my stuff from my car to the apartment, but Jaxon looks as though if I don’t allow him to do this he might become lost. It’s a look that should never grace his face.

I reach into my pocket to grab the ring that holds my car key and hold it out to him. No other keys are on the ring. “Thank you, Jaxon,” I say in a soft voice.

He pulls his hands out of his pockets and reaches for my keys. Our fingers brush and I swear I feel a zing of electricity run through my fingers all the way up my arm. I look up at him and he’s just staring at our hands, which are both still holding the key ring. A deep frown line has formed over his eyebrows. I wonder what he’s thinking.

I drop my hand from the keys and clutch them behind my back. This seems to bring Jaxon back to the present.

“I’ll get them back to you before the end of your shift. When you get off, I’ll take you up and show you around.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” I grab the doorknob and turn to leave, pulling it behind me.

Just as the door is halfway closed Jaxon calls my name. I turn my head to look at him.

“If you need anything you know where to find me.”

I give him a small, sad smile and nod my head.

“Bye, Jaxon,” I say and turn back around.

Right before the door closes I hear Jaxon softly say, “Bye, Angel.”

––––––––

W
hen I walk back to the front, there are even more people in the place than there was when I first went to Jaxon’s office. Every seat at the bar is taken and there are only a few tables left unoccupied. All of the pool tables are in use. It’s very daunting.

I’m still a little shaken up by mine and Jaxon’s encounter. I wonder why a man such as Jaxon can affect me on so many levels. The feelings the man can invoke in me are all over the place; fear, excitement, intrigue, intimidation, safe, bafflement, hope, and I wonder if the butterflies that are in my stomach when I’m around him could be stemmed from a tiny bit of desire. The more I think about the last feeling, however, the more I realize that it just can’t be. I want absolutely nothing to do with one of the most basic instincts a normal man and woman feel for each other. Sex. Nope, never again. I will die, if not happy, then content without ever letting a man touch me intimately again. So, scratch that off the list of feelings Jaxon conjures in me.

The other emotions Jaxon brings out still puzzles me. The fear I can understand. I can tell that Jaxon carries strong feelings about women being abused. Obviously, there is a story there somewhere. I’m not quite sure if I want it to be told to me or not. I do know that whatever it is, it has made a significant impact on Jaxon’s life. The hardness in his eyes when he guessed something bad happened to me is a testament to that. It’s that cold hard look he gets that brings about the fear. I’ve seen it before many times and it’s never been good news for me.

Excitement and intrigue are emotions that I haven’t felt very much in my life. When you constantly worry when the next beating and verbal abuse will come there’s not much excitement to be had. This is something I’ve had to deal with since I was three years old. But with Jaxon there’s a tiny spark. He intrigues me because he doesn’t react the way I expect him to. He does the total opposite. Instead of lashing out at me when I raised my voice in his office, he soothed and comforted me. Although it scares me to think about being near him, just for the mere fact that he’s a man, I’m also very curious about our next encounter. For some reason, this man makes me feel safe. He makes me feel like I’m someone special, not just an object to vent against and use.

There are several people smashed up against the bar waiting for someone to take their orders. I make my way to them and jump back in the groove I had before Jaxon asked to speak with me. The work helps distract me from my thoughts of him.

Back in college, I absolutely loved working at The Bryler. What I enjoyed about it the most was meeting new people. When I was little the only time I was allowed to socialize with other kids was at school. All other times I was stuck in the house or in the backyard, which had a tall privacy fence. I had no friends because, hey, who would want to be friends with someone that couldn’t come over to play. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t the cleanest little girl in the classroom. My clothes were always dingy and a bit too small for my body. More often than not my hair was an oily tangled mess. Needless to say, my parents weren’t the type to get up in the mornings to get their child ready for school. They did for the first few years, but then it got to the point where they were too stoned to rise that early. I would be lucky if they were up by the time I got home from school. Actually, let me rephrase that, I would be
un
lucky if they were up when I got home.

My parents weren’t the nicest people you would meet. They were low life druggies that would rather score their next hit than take care of their child. Not only were they neglectful, they were downright mean and abusive at times. But it was the parties they threw that really made them despicable and horrible parents.

I shudder at the thought of the parties my parents threw, almost dropping a bottle of beer meant for a customer.

I tried so hard, so freaking hard, to hide my tiny body in the most inconspicuous places during these get-togethers. I even went so far as to hide in a dresser drawer one time. Even still, there were many times that my parents ‘friends’ found me. I would kick, scream, and bite the entire time, but eventually my child’s body would wear out and then they would do horrendous things to me, and make me do things to them as well. I should be grateful because the men didn’t actually use their disgusting penises to penetrate me; however, there are many other ways to sexually abuse a child. Instead, they used other parts of their body.

What makes it even worse is the fact that when these people were doing these horrible things to me my parents were too high on drugs to care. The men and women would drag me in the same room as my parents and perform these unthinkable acts and my parents would idly sit by with a blank face. There were times they would be having sex with some of the other party goers as well while they watched me being abused.

Afterwards, I would carry my limp self to the bathroom and get in the bath. No matter how much I scrubbed my sore and used little body I could never get clean enough. I would then crawl into bed, curl up into a ball, and cry myself to sleep. During those nights, even as a small child, my dreams consisted of ending the never-ending pain, by any means necessary. Even if those means meant ending my horrible life.

I’m interrupted from my dark thoughts by someone screeching my name.

“Bailey! It’s about time we meet, girl!”

I turn towards the voice and my first thought is I’ve just seen the hottest freaking guy on the planet. My second thought is, the hottest freaking guy on the planet is one of the most flamboyant gay guys to walk on said planet. I’m completely and utterly speechless.

From head to toe there is no mistaking this man prefers guys to girls, but it’s the shirt that really tells the tale. It’s white with a big colorful rainbow on the front. Below the rainbow in big, bold pink letters it reads, ‘9 out of 10 men prefer big tits. The other man prefers the 9 men.’

He’s also wearing the tightest pair of pants known to man. How in the world does he fit himself in there? And believe me, there is a lot to fit in. He’s got to be at least 6 ½ feet tall. I wouldn’t say he’s slim, because there is definitely some impressive muscles going on, but he’s also nowhere near bulky. He’s got the perfect amount of muscle to go along with his height. His hair is a chocolate brown and he wears it in a shaggy style. It looks as though he hasn’t shaved in a couple days so he’s sporting a two-day shadow. His eyes are pure black and when he smiles he has two adorable dimples.

He immediately walks straight up to me and, without a single glance to my scar, grabs my cheeks and pinches them.
He actually pinches my cheeks!

“Girl, you are just the cutest thing!” He starts speaking while still holding my cheeks. He has an amazing deep voice. “I’m so glad you started working here! I’m so tired of having to deal with Mia’s crabby ass all the time. Too much negativity, I tell you! A person like me needs happiness in his life, not Miss Sulky over there. Of course, there is one perk to the job, and that’s the fine piece of meat that owns this joint. Mmm hmm. Yummy!” He smacks his lips and rolls his eyes to the ceiling while moaning.

Oh, wow! Did that just really happen?
I have no idea how to respond to his excited chatter. I just stand there staring at him with my jaw on the floor. Usually I would be quaking in my boots from a man of his size being so close and familiar with me, but there’s just something about him that puts me at ease. There are absolutely no threatening vibes coming off him.

Mia walks up to our strange little party and has to reach way up to smack the back of the guy’s head.

“I heard that,
Andy
. The only reason I’ve been in a shitty mood lately is because I’ve been stuck with you so much. It’ll make my entire fucking year when Bailey is fully trained and I don’t have to see your face every damn day.” She emphasizes the name Andy. She has a twinkle in her eye so I know she doesn’t mean what she said.