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Those words undo me. All the emotions that have been stuffed inside me come spilling out, erupting in a flood of tears so bad I can’t even move. My shoulders shake with sobs and when I try to apologise for my sorry state, I’m completely incoherent. Thinking of Richard and my father, remembering my mother… combined with the total upheaval of my life, it’s all too much for me. I want to scurry back to the privacy of my bed, to hide under the sheets and pretend I’m somewhere else, anywhere else. I want to wake up and discover that this is all a nightmare. But the man standing in front of me, moving closer, reaching out for me, reminds me that it’s all too real.
“Come here,” he says softly, drawing me in close, holding me snug against his chest. His large hand holds the back of my head so my face is buried in his shirt, wetting it with my tears. His other hand is wrapped around my back, tracing gentle circles over my spine. Comforting me.
My broken sobs are muffled slightly against his body, but my shoulders still shake. My legs feel like jelly. I’m not even sure that I could hold myself up, if it wasn’t for his arms around me, supporting me.
He doesn’t say anything, he just holds me, comforting me with his quiet, reassuring presence.
I don’t know how long we stand there; I’m too busy sobbing to keep track of time. But he doesn’t rush me. He just stands there, his big hands soothing me.
“I’m sorry,” I cry against his shirt.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” He pauses, like he wants to say more, but isn’t sure if he should, so I hold my breath expectantly, hoping he will. Anything to break the monotony of my sobs.
“I lost my mother when I was young, too,” he tells me quietly. Right now, he sounds more human than I’ve ever heard him sound. There’s understanding in his tone. Empathy. “I never knew my father. Like you, I was floundering. Drowning. I ended up joining the Army—it was either that or jail. I didn’t know it, but the structure and discipline were just what I needed. It saved my life.” He squeezes me just a little bit tighter. Does he think I need a tighter hug, or is it for him? Is he lost in his memories, too?
“I can help you, Jade. Please let me help you.” There’s genuine pain in his voice.
I swallow my sobs, let out my breath. It billows up around my face where my cheek is still pressed against his chest, his heart pounding erratically in my ear. Taking another deep breath, I step back, out of his embrace, and look up at him.
“This isn’t just a job for you, is it?” I ask. “It’s personal.”
He looks at me and I can’t make out what he’s thinking. He looks grumpy.
“No,” he growls. Then his tone softens. “It started out just as a job but now…” His voice trails off and an expression I can’t quite place flits across his face. But he quickly replaces it with a blank mask, hiding any semblance of vulnerability or emotion. “Go wash your face,” he growls, letting me know in no uncertain terms that Mr. Nice Guy is gone and Mr. Grump is back.
I don’t move. I have questions. So many questions.
“How long were you in the Army for?”
The glare he gives me makes me shrink backwards, but only for a second. I refuse to shrivel under his glare anymore. Not now that I know there’s more to him than meets the eye. He doesn’t say anything at first, but I can tell he’s going to, eventually. He’s obviously weighing up in his mind how personal he wants to get, but ultimately, he’s going to answer my question.
“Sixteen years,” he says, his deep voice rumbly. “Why?”
I don’t really have a reason for asking, I’m just curious. Shouldn’t I be allowed to know a little bit about the man who is responsible for my welfare and safety and everything else? The man I’m quickly becoming far too attracted to?
I shrug, then smile. “No reason. It just explains why you look so fit for an old guy.”
“Old guy?” He sounds outraged, and I giggle. That was the reaction I was expecting. “Old? I’m only thirty-six—that’s not old!”
I take a few steps back, toward the bathroom, before grinning playfully up at him. “Yeah, that’s old.”
“Oi. Watch it, little girl. I might be old, but I’m not too old to keep you in line.” His growl is playful, teasing, but I know, beneath the laughter in his tone, he’s deadly serious. He’s playing, but he’s not. He’s reminding me, while grinning and joking around with me, that he’s the one in charge and I best not forget it.
Reality bites. No matter how easily he made me let down my guard—and he let his down ever so slightly in return—I’m still no longer in LA. I’m all by myself in a strange city that I’m not even allowed to explore because reasons. And I’m about to go and wash my face, exactly as he told me to do, without even arguing or pushing back just a little bit. I’m not sure I know who Jade Owens even is anymore.
I scurry into the bathroom and obediently wash my face, just like he’d instructed. I hate that I’m giving in to his demands so eagerly. If I had gotten a dollar for every time I heard the words “For once in your life, will you just do as you’re told?” as a child, I would be richer than my father. ‘Cooperative’ is not a word anybody would ever use to describe me. And yet, here I am, rubbing a wet washcloth over my face, wiping away my smudged makeup and the mascara tracks on my cheeks that mixed with my tears halfway down and left grey blobs just above my mouth. Just like a good little girl.
Little girl.The name he’d just called me.
It wasn’t the first time he’d called me that, either. At the time, I hadn’t really thought much of it; I’d just thought he was being a condescending asshole. But now I’m wondering if he meant something more. Now part of me is hoping he meantthose words in a tender, caring, protective way. Like a term of endearment, rather than an insult.
Jaxon
I’m still flipping through the paper when Jade returns from the bathroom. I’ve already read it from cover to cover at least twice, but the photographer at the airport last night bothers me. We don’t have paparazzi here; it’s not a thing in New Zealand. We believe, largely, in letting people go about their business unbothered. I want to be certain that there’s nothing in this paper that could cause problems. I’ve already scanned the internet for trouble and come up blank.
“So where are we going?” Jade asks, her makeup refreshed.
“Out of?—”
