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Chapter 1
JAXSON
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Savannah, GA April 8– Saturday
One Year Later
Noise. Noise. There’s so much noise. More noise than a person would expect given the location of my damn house. In this house, I was promised peace and quiet. Solitude. That was one of the main reasons I wanted this palatial space. The little, ocean blue, two-story house has five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Everything about it screamed calm. Amid the chaos that my life has become, this house was everything I needed and more. It practically fell into my lap. It held up to the serenity and seclusion I required and relished for a nanosecond of a minute.
It’s my own damn fault. I’m to blame for snatching my attempt at peace away. Had I not moved my family into houses that are practically a stone’s throw away then I wouldn’t have had this issue. Nope. Not me. I thought having them around would be good for my psyche. Who knew bringing them here would be one of the many mistakes I’ve made over the last six years? It took no time at all for them to make me regret bringing them to town and having them as close to me as they are.
Case in point. The precious, dulcet tones of one of the few women who has had the ability to worm their way into my heart. The pitch of her voice is countering the throbbing bass of the drum that is pulsing its painful beat inside my skull.
Another thing that’s your fault.
I ignore the insulting tone of the voice inside my brain. Instead, I pull a pillow over my head in a sad attempt to drown out the continuous conversation that’s getting closer with every breath I breathe. The pillow does nothing but muffle the continuous chatter that is coming up the hallway.
“Here we go again. I swear it’s starting to feel like moments of déjà vu.”
Her words are closer than they were before. I groan knowing she’s going to be in my room any moment now.
“He’s been through a lot.”
“I know.” Her voice booms in the almost barren hallway. The voices stop and I breathe a sigh of relief until she clears her throat. I tense as she begins speaking again. “I understand that. We all have. He’s not alone in this. That’s the problem. It’s like he thinks he’s the only one who has had to adjust and reacclimate. He’s not.”
“Yep. You won’t let anyone forget that.” The male voice is recognizable as well. I should’ve known he’d be with her. “We should just let him sleep it off.”
“Again? It’s like that’s your ‘go to’ solution. Just leave him to his own devises and hope for the best. Right? That’s not what he needs. Somewhere inside of that non-confrontational head of yours, you know I’m right. He’s not coming out of this without a swift kick in his ass.”
She stops talking and it’s quiet for another breath of a moment. Again, I’m hopeful and again, I’m disappointed. It’s sounds like they’re directly outside my door. He’s apparently not finished with the subject because he’s suddenly speaking again.
“Just so you know, I’m letting that smart ass comment slide. For now.”
“It’s not like I tried to whisper the words. I said them clear enough for you to hear. There’s no reason for you to let anything ‘slide’. Not when I’m purposely ...”
That’s it!
I’ve heard enough and it’s obvious she’s not going to let go of her pursuit. Chucking the pillow which was previously over my head, I toss back the covers and my sheet before sliding out of the bed. Once I’m on my feet, a sudden breeze from the open balcony doors clues me in to my nakedness. I’m naked as a jay bird. I don’t exactly know how that happened. Much of last night is a blur. I don’t know what, if anything, went down while I was out. What I do know is I’m sick of the conversation that’s happening on the other side of that door.
I don’t bother to grab any of the clothes that are strewn about the floor, on the rack, or on the faux leather bench at the end of my bed. Kennedy is going to love this. The beautiful, former model is my current personal assistant and the wrangler of my wardrobe. She’s the one who ensures whatever brand names make it to my closet are things I’m going to want to put on my body.
Kicking a pile of clothes out of the way, I then fling the doors open.
“Enough already! I can’t listen to the two of you go back and forth any longer. Why are you here?”
I give them both an expectant look. The brown-eyed woman, Hope, gasps in shock at my state of undress. She turns her face away from me. Her dark brown hair with caramel highlights floats on the air as she tries to avert her gaze.
“Still quite impressive,” Graham states.
The light brown skinned male’s hazel eyes gleam with mirth as he smirks at me from behind Hope. He stands, looking over her shoulder then around me. He’s dressed in his usual business wear sans his suit jacket which is hanging from his fingers.
“Jack. Ass. Why do I even ... I don’t know which is worse. His constant disregard for any and everything or your blatant disrespect and disgusting comments.”
“Both? Why does it have to be a choice? Impressive package, great rack, kissable lips, fuckable mouth. I can’t help it if I’m able to appreciate all parts of the human body.”
Those words might surprise others but not me. That’s the type of shit I have to hear from this man. The first time he complimented me, I did ask him if he was trying to hit on me. It wasn’t the compliment; it was how he worded it that had me wondering which team he batted for. He told me he wasn’t going to confirm or deny anything but would say he appreciated the human body in all its forms. In the next breath, he stuck his tongue down our waitress’ throat. That was the end of that conversation. I haven’t questioned him since.
