Mercy's Angels Box Set (10 page)

              When I strolled into the shelter early Sunday morning the place was quiet. Mercy met me at the foyer, she was far more subdued than normal and it wasn’t just from the night shift. I could tell something was up. She moved towards me and wrapped her arms around my waist hugging me close. “What’s wrong?’ I asked, hugging her back. She scoffed and pushed me away.

              “It’s called a hug you big oaf, deal with it.” Okay, she was snappy. Perhaps some of her mood was attributed to the night shift after-all.

              I chuckled. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m cool with the hug but you seem sad.” She plastered a big bright smile on her face and I could tell there was sorrow beneath it.

              “I’m just tired honey, Dave is taking me to The Pit Stop for a greasy breakfast and then home to sleep the day away like a lazy sloth.” I groaned. I hadn’t had time for a Pit Stop breakfast and now I knew it would be all I could think about. Perhaps I would sneak out at lunch. Benny’s special breakfast was an all-day affair and the thought had me almost drooling all over myself.  David came up and pulled Mercy into his arms, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

              “Come on woman, Benny’s is calling you and bed is calling me.” He pulled my mom towards the front door.

              “Jax,” I turned back to face her before entering the rec room. “Maybe you were right, Ella is special…she’s different. Take good care of her.” Okay, now I felt like I had stepped into a cheesy chick flick. Mercy smiled at the apparent look of shock on my face.

              “Don’t be afraid to be what she needs. You could both be good for each other.” I tilted my head considering her words.

              “Did Beth bring in some of her ‘special’ cookies this morning?” I asked, my hands putting ‘special’ in the appropriate air quotations.

              Mercy laughed and shook her head, leaving me standing there with no doubt a dumbfounded expression on my face. Yep, I was looking for Beth’s cookies the moment I had a chance. I moved through the shelter with a little too much excitement, I was dying to see Ella and make sure she was alright. When I discovered she had already left my mood quickly dropped to below freezing and Beth of course was quick to take note.

              “What, didn’t you get lucky last night?” She snapped throwing another fuse at me. The damned thermostat was playing up again.

              “Where are your cookies and I mean the good ones, not the plain ol’ boring ones sitting in that container on the kitchen bench?” I demanded. Beth snickered as she leant against the door frame.

              “They’re the only cookies I brought in and because you seem not to have noticed, I haven’t brought the good kind in for over a year now. All my baking is clean as a whistle these days.”

              “Mercy was acting weird this morning, I assumed you snuck her one,” I rubbed my eyes and grabbed the fuse. “I’ll fix this, might work the bag for a bit too.”

              “Good idea,” Beth murmured as I stalked past her.

I was punching all of my frustration into that damned bag and it still didn’t help my mood. With every hit I imagined it was one of the men who had hit the women who came to Mercy’s. I wished I knew what Ella’s abuser looked like, it would have made the whole exercise more worthwhile. My fists connecting with the bag were the only sound in the damp basement and I soon shed my shirt and worked up a sweat. A gentle cough behind me had me snap around, surprised. No one ever came down here, especially not Beth, she was too damn scared of the ghost that she was convinced lived amongst the boxes and crates and no one ever snuck up on me. I was shocked to see Ella sitting half way down the stair case. Her eyes were glued to my chest, her cheeks flushed.

              “You have a tattoo,” she noted a little breathlessly. I nodded. I had a tattoo. Selena was the only person other than the tattooist who knew about it. But I was the only person who knew what it meant. It was personal, not something I wanted to share. But I found myself wanting Ella to know about it and sharing something personal like this would help with the trust we were developing. It wasn’t a small tattoo and how I had managed to keep it a secret was beyond me. It took up almost my entire back and I endured many hours of mind numbing pain just to now cover it and keep it a secret. I knew Ella would appreciate it from an artistic perspective. The entire tattoo was in shades of gray; a large crucifix drawn in such a way to give it a worn timber look sat between my shoulder blades and below it, in an elegant scroll was a quote. Ella stood and carefully descended the few remaining steps, walking cautiously towards me. I stood perfectly still as she moved to my back.

              “He will wipe every tear from their eyes and there will be no more death, or sorrow, or crying, or pain.” The silence grew almost uncomfortable before she circled to stand back before me once more. Her head was tilted in thought and she watched me carefully. Then, like turning off a switch her eyes brightened and she looked at the punching bag.

              “Would you teach me?” She asked. I was thrown for a moment. I was positive she would ask about my tattoo, about what it meant and represented. I was prepared to tell her, a little of I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. But I was also relieved I didn’t have to explain, I guess I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was and perhaps Ella realized that. Or perhaps, like everyone else in this shelter, we would tell our own stories once we were ready without pressure or expectation.

              “There’s not much to teach about punching a bag of sand,” I grinned.

              “I want to know how to punch a man, properly.” She explained.

              “You live on the streets and never took a self-defense class? Many shelters hold them for free you know.”  She stiffened at my words, her lips pursed and ready to argue. I was pretty sure it was the ‘free’ comment that had her spine stiffen, Ella didn’t seem like the sort of girl to take handouts if she could avoid it. She was a proud little spitfire my angel.

              “The first time I saw you, I walked you through the doors of this shelter and you stood with your fists clenched ready to sock me one if I so much as breathed wrong. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I’d be happy to show you a few self-defense moves.” I reached out and took her wrist, feeling the ridges of her scars under my fingers. She flinched and I ignored it. “Clench your fist, like you did that night.” She was tense and as nervous as a rabbit, but she obeyed, clenching her firsts. I positioned them appropriately in front of her, one hand a little lower, protecting her torso the other higher protecting her face. She looked so damn cute and mad as hell. “If you thought I was suggesting you couldn’t afford to pay for self-defense classes, I’m sorry. Many people attend those classes, they aren’t just for people who can’t afford them. They are put on to be made available and accessible to everyone.” She seemed to relax a little and when I say a little I mean the most minuscule, tiny of fragments.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight. You’re not weak.” I looked her right in the eye so she could see that I believed that was the god honest truth. “But,” I went on, “you’re tiny, like a doll. Hell, I have no doubt I could wrap you up and put you in my pocket.” Her brow furrowed.

“You could damn well try,” she snarled. I tried to hide my smile behind my hand as I continued on. “Most men will have the upper hand over you because of size alone.” She nodded. “There are advantages to being small though. It puts you in a position to attack down here a little easier,” I pointed to my groin. Her eyes dropped and I tried hard not to think of the fact she was looking at my dick. “With your hands up like this, your attacker immediately thinks you’re stupid enough to try and hit him in the face.”

              “I’m not going to?” She asked looking a little disappointed. I laughed.

              “Not yet angel. First of all you are going to either knee or kick the fucker in the nuts.” She blushed. “Give it a try.” Ella’s eyes widened.

              “I’m not going to kick you in the nuts,” she said shocked.

              “I’d actually prefer you didn’t as well. Use your knee to attack my boys, just go slow.” With great hesitation and blushing furiously, she finally slowly raised her knee. “After you attack from below, punch, hard and aim for the throat or face.” She moved her fist forward, slowly. “Good girl. Now try it faster, put some effort behind it.” She didn’t look so sure. “Come on angel show me what you’ve got.” She did. A sharp kick to the groin which I blocked followed by a quick jab to the face, which almost connected. She had quick reflexes. She looked a little worried; actually, she looked a lot worried.

              “That’s my girl, go again.” Some of the worry faded as she went through the maneuver again. We practiced the move a few more times and I corrected her stance, her fist. “Turn around,” I finally prompted. She hesitated. This maneuver would bring me closer, she would feel more defenseless at being attacked from behind. “You can trust me angel, I promise.” She turned, slowly. “If someone comes at you from behind there are things you can do to get free.” I moved closer, damn she smelled good. “I’m going to put my arms around you, okay. If you want me to stop, you just say so.” I approached her like you would a frightened puppy. Slow and steady, whispering words of encouragement. As I wrapped my arms around her shoulders I felt how rigid she was under me. Her breathing had accelerated and her eyes were squeezed shut. “Good girl, now you can break away from me easily. If you can get at the fuckers hands, you grab a finger and pull back, hard. Or you can raise your foot and stamp hard on his foot. With a bit of luck the grip will loosen enough for you to pull free. Try and grab for one of my fingers.” Her breathing was too fast. “Angel?” She didn’t respond. I immediately dropped my arms and moved in front of her. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. She looked completely and utterly terrified.

              I hadn’t had a panic attack in months. It wasn’t a fear of Jax that had actually triggered the attack. It had been the way he stood behind me, the feel of his chest against my back. Flashback. Marcus had approached me like this when he was going to rape me. Somewhere deep inside my brain I knew Jax wouldn’t hurt me; I even recognized how different he felt to Marcus, but my mind still short circuited, I lost it. I was back at home and Marcus held me breathing in my ear. I knew I was gasping for breath, my chest felt tight, my lungs screamed for air. Black spots danced before my eyes and I knew I was going to lose consciousness. Then his words cut a path to my mind, I heard Jax and gradually his calm assuring voice brought me back.

              “Deep breaths angel, breath with me baby. You’re safe here. It’s just you and me and you know I won’t hurt you.” I opened my eyes and concentrated on Jax, focusing on his eyes, so gentle and honest. I finally got control of my breathing and my body slowly became mine again, under my control, away from the memories. “That’s it angel. You’re safe.” His hands cupped my face and he kept watching me, breathing with me. “What frightened you?” He asked, his grey eyes searching mine. Thought eluded me and the words started gushing out without censor.

              “When y-you were behind m-me,” I whispered. “It reminded m-me of h-him.” He nodded with understanding. Jax pulled me closer and folded me into his arms, my cheek pressed against his chest, absorbing his warmth, his strength. My throat ached with the effort it took not to cry. My tears weren’t trying to escape for Marcus, or because of the panic attack, but for Jax’s kindness. His tenderness was what did me in.

              “He hit you, he cut you, did he hurt you in any other way?” I knew what Jax meant, he was wondering if I had been raped. I was fortunate and glad to be able to shake my head in the negative.  Gradually Jax’s heat poured into my body and I was thankful he didn’t ask me any more questions. I really didn’t think I could hold my shit together if he did. When I was back in control, I reluctantly pulled away from him.

              “You have triggers that start these panic attacks?” He cautiously asked and I gave a short nod. “There are ways to help stop the attacks, breathing techniques. If you are aware of the triggers, you can work on preventing future attacks.” I shifted uncomfortably before him, embarrassed that he had seen the attack and nervous at having exposed a weakness.

              “You hungry?” He deftly changed the subject. A moment ago I was ready to throw up, but now, yep, I was starving. I nodded, feeling a little empty and tired.

              “I’ve got to pick up some supplies, thought I’d drop by The Pit Stop for one of Benny’s famous all day breakfasts. You wanna’ come?” I couldn’t really afford to eat out, but I really wanted to, I wasn’t ready to put distance between Jax and I yet. What can I say? I was a glutton for punishment. A little numbly I nodded again. Jax pulled his shirt on and I was disappointed that his rippling hard stomach was covered.

              “Come on angel.” He grabbed my hand and led me up the steep staircase. At the top he stopped and glanced over his shoulder at me.

              “Not many people know about my tattoo. In fact, pretty much no one, especially Mercy. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

              “I didn’t expect Mercy to be the sort who wouldn’t approve of tattoos. You were a soldier I thought it was pretty much mandatory for soldiers to have tattoos.” Jax laughed and the sound helped me to relax a little more.

              “True, but it’s not so much the tattoo itself that I prefer to keep to myself. It’s the content, the meaning.” Jax had demons too and he was good at hiding them.

              “Jax, I am the Queen of secrets. Yours are more than safe with me.” He nodded satisfied and led me through Mercy’s and out a back door.

              Jax drove a big, black, luxurious Dodge Ram. It was the nicest vehicle I had ever been in, much nicer than Marcus’ pussy Beamer M3. The dodge was a working man’s car. A man who was proud of who he was and not interested in slick speed, but more perhaps safety and comfort. Shit, even the seats were warmed. The panic attack that had gripped me less than fifteen minutes ago was all but a distant memory as I sunk into the tan leather seat. I groaned, out loud.

              “Comfortable?” Jax asked grinning.

              “Please tell me The Pit Stop is like hours away,” I moaned. Jax laughed loudly.

              “Sorry angel, only a few minutes.” My eyes slipped closed as I enjoyed the short ride.

              “You know, I’m finding myself more than a little jealous of this car right now. You’ve never had such a contented look on your face with me.” Jax’s smile was sly and knowing and suddenly I had images of him doing things to me that might just put that look of content on my face. I blushed and his grin was shit eating proud, almost as if he knew what I was thinking. We pulled up out front of a tidy little diner that I realize was less than a block from Bouquets. As I reached for the handle the door opened and Jax stood on the icy footpath before me, his hand outstretched. I didn’t hesitate when I took it, feeling completely safe by his side, my hand in his. Jax let go all too soon and I was quietly disappointed. The sunshine that had started the day had disappeared behind a blanket of thick grey cloud. It would snow again tonight. I reached back to grab my backpack and Jax stopped me.

              “It will be safe here, you can leave it in my truck if you like.” I hesitated. I never left my backpack behind. It was always with me, it was all I had.

“You can bring it in if you like. It doesn’t bother me one way or another. I just thought you might like to leave it here, it looks heavy.” I stood for a moment conflicted. To leave my bag or not leave my bag, that was the question. “You’re thinking too hard Ella. Come on Angel, let’s just eat before I pass out this time, I’m starving.” I could do this, I could leave it there. The truck was right outside the diner. I stepped away from the Dodge and before I could change my mind, Jax slammed the door shut and locked it. “And just so you know, I invited you to lunch, which means my shout. When you invite me out, it can be your shout.” I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so rather than address it, I pretended to ignore it.

              The Pit Stop was warm and cozy and thankfully not too crowded. We sat at the counter alongside two old men who appeared to be in a deep and meaningful conversation with the man behind the counter, something about the cost of meat and export tax.

“Jax!” The man behind the counter bellowed. His loud voice made me wince, but I knew it wasn’t spoken in anger, but shouting kind of made me nervous. He was huge and round with a thick tangled beard and warm friendly eyes that were watching me curiously.

              “Benny.” Jax said, his voice much more calm and soothing. “This is Ella, Ella this is Benny. This is his fine establishment and he is the genius behind the all-day breakfast.” Benny reached out his hand to shake mine. Jax looked concerned for a moment, but I didn’t hesitate to reach out and take Benny’s hand. Although I had always kept my distance from men, even the ones with friendly eyes, having Jax beside me made me feel safe.

              “Pretty Ella,” sighed Benny. “Please tell me I can get you something other than a salad.” I hated salad.

              “No, meat for me thanks. I prefer it soaking in grease with some bread to mop up the mess.” Benny looked at me like he was in love.

              “Thank god, a real woman. Jax, hold on to this one, she is a rare commodity.” I blushed as Benny turned to the kitchen.

              “That she is,” Jax murmured. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it, but I did and my heart pitched dangerously. Coffee with cream and sugar was slid towards us and Jax prepared mine, just the way I liked it, though a dash of caramel wouldn’t go astray. Benny practically ignored us as his argument continued on with the old timers. Jax told me about his best friend Charlie who also worked for him and went on to tell me about the town, the university that fed the businesses and the shelter. Basically anything that wasn’t too personal. I felt comfortable, happy. I found myself thinking about Claymont in a more permanent way. Could I stay here permanently? I could get my own apartment, maybe sell some of my portraits to help with cash? There was no reason Marcus would find me here, as long as I stayed off the grid. Thinking of my future was a strange concept and frightening. To want something like that and have it taken away from me would be devastating. I knew it was easier not to want, not to plan, but not even a ten foot solid brick wall in my mind could stop the dreams that were beginning to churn away.

              As I moped up the last of the grease off my plate with a slice of bread, I discovered the diner had become quiet. I glanced up to see Jax, Benny and the two old timers watching me, waiting. I grinned. “I think you’ve spoilt me for all future breakfast’s Benny,” I admitted. It was obviously the right response, as Benny beamed with pride.

              “Sorry, that wasn’t exactly lady like,” I groaned with embarrassment, wiping my grease covered fingers on a napkin. I had all but devoured the meal without a pause and finished it by dumping my fork and promptly using Jax’s last piece of toast to mop up every last drop. I might as well have picked up the plate and licked it clean. Hell, I still might. Jax chuckled.

              “Screw lady like, Angel you have no idea how fucken’ hot that was.  We’re gonna’ have to sit here a few minutes longer so I can get myself under control. There is no way I can concentrate on driving after watching you eat. It was sexy as hell.” Sexy? How in the hell could someone hoovering their meal like a starved beast be sexy? I’m sure at one point I even grunted. I was mortified and Jax was in a lust crazed fog. I guess that was just one prime example of the very vast and extensive differences between men and women.

Eventually we left The Pit Stop and Jax had two pick-ups to make before heading back to Mercy’s. I tagged along at each stop and left my backpack in the car each time. The second time wasn’t quite as difficult as the first and the third time was a breeze. I trusted Jax to keep me and my things safe. By the time we got back to the shelter it was getting dark. I helped Jax unload the boxes he had put in the back of the Dodge and settled into what had quickly become my evening routine, helping with the laundry, giving the bathrooms a quick check and finally helping Mary in the kitchen. I liked Mary, she actually reminded me of the female version of Benny. If Mary wasn’t already married I would have suggested to Jax that we try and set the two up. Finally I found myself in my new favorite chair, bright lamp at my side and sketch book open in my lap. I was sketching a portrait of Benny tonight. He was fun to draw with his larger than life eyes and big bushy beard. I didn’t see Jax settle down beside me, but I smelt him, clean and fresh. It reminded me of the woods. Damn he smelt good.

“I’m about to head off,” he said with a little reluctance in his voice. I didn’t want him to go, I had enjoyed his company today, panic attack and all. But I nodded before flicking back a couple of pages in my sketch book and carefully tore the picture along the perforated edge. It was the portrait I had drawn of Mercy. I handed it to him and waited nervously. It was a long time before he said anything, he just stared at it, taking in every shadow, every sweeping bold line. Mercy looked tired in the portrait, but at the same time, determined. It was how I saw her.

              Finally Jax moved. He placed the picture carefully aside and slid out of his chair, kneeling before me. All I could do was sit and stare with my heart racing, my eyes not willing to blink in case I missed something. Jax’s rigid stomach pushed against my knees, his hands rested on the arms of the chair. I was caged in, but didn’t feel threatened. In fact, I think the only thing I was in threat of was being kissed and that didn’t seem to frighten me nearly as much as it should have.

              “Damn angel. Seldom am I speechless.” He shook his head, no doubt watching me carefully to see if I would panic over his closeness. He carefully reached for my hand. My finger-tips were blackened with charcoal, but Jax didn’t seem to care. He held my hand tenderly in his.

              “This,” he whispered, squeezing my hand. “This is a gift.” His fingers then touched my face with reverence, running tenderly down my temples, tracing my scar and finally sweeping around my eyes which fluttered closed. “These,” he brushed his thumbs gently over my eyelashes, his face so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “These see more truth than anyone I have ever known.” His hands left my face and I opened my eyes again as his hand very slowly dropped to my neck, his fingers following the line of my collarbone, then his palm opened. “And this,” he pressed his hand over my chest, right over my heart. “This is the most beautiful thing in existence.” I was stunned. My breathing was now embarrassingly fast and I’m sure he could feel my heart pounding frantically under his hand.  Please kiss me, I silently begged. He did, but not at all how I expected it. Jax took my hand once more and placed his warm soft lips to the center of my palm. No one had ever kissed me in such a way. The kiss vanquished all ugliness and left me feeling raw, naked and beautiful. This kiss rocked my world like no other touch could. When Jax finally stood and simply walked away with Mercy’s portrait in hand, I almost wept at the loss of his body so close to mine. It was in that moment I realized I could easily love Jax Carter.