Page 44

“Ma’am, are you alright? I think you have some blood on your head,” he goes to reach out, but I step back.

“I’m okay. I fell just a bit ago, but nothing to worry about.

“You should get that checked out.”

“Yeah, if I start feeling funny, I will. Thanks. Have a good night,” I say as I shut the door. I hear the departing footsteps. I lean against the door and slide to the floor.

So many thoughts just ran through my head.

Where is Jax with the bodies? Did they believe the lies I’ve spewed? A crime was committed on my body, and I said nothing to the officers showing up at my door.

What a world I am living in.

I wasn’t quite sure I had any tears left to give, but I cried again. And I never stop.

After what felt like years of sobbing, I found myself in bed. And now there’s another knock at my door.

Before I can make it out there to answer, Jax is entering my apartment. It’s been at least three hours since I got back to my place. I’m not sure how he cleaned up the mess, and quite frankly, I don’t want to know either.

“It’s all set,” he confirms. I didn’t doubt it, but it’s nice to know, I guess. “How are you doing?” He asks, and it throws me off. Never, not once, has he given a fuck about my mental state.

I consider lying and telling him I’m fine, but I’m so far from fine that I can’t even lie.

“I’m not okay,” I admit, and a sob threatens to escape. I’m tired of crying. Jax steps towards me with an arm out, but I back away. The thought of being touched by anyone makes me nauseous. He’s not angry but concerned.

“Please, don’t touch me,” I plead.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers as his hands fall to his side.

“I guess I should have let you bring me home,” I chuckle, and a watery smile crosses my lips.

“Don’t do that. This was not your fault,” Jax tries to console me, but it doesn’t work. Not one bit.

“Isn’t it?”

“What the fuck?” He asks with a raised brow. “How could what happened be your fault?”

“I hurt both of them,” I say.

“Who gives a fuck? That doesn’t give them the right to gang-rape someone!” Jax yells, and it makes me shrink.

“It wasn’t really a gang-rape. Only Noah did the-”

“Oh my god. To-may-to, to-ma-to. Semantics. Whatever. It doesn’t matter what it was or what it wasn’t, but what it’s not is your fault, so cut the shit.”

Even as I’m falling apart inside, he doesn’t change. Glad to see what I’m signing myself up for.

As I look around my apartment, I feel sick. It’s this building they took me to. They did it on purpose. Took me to my own home and made me never want to see it again. Maybe Jax is going to get what he wants after all.

How is this fair?

“I don’t want to be here.”

“I know.”

“It’s not right. I should feel safe here.”

“I know that too. Pack a bag, baby.”