Nova 05 Ruin Me (16 page)

“Yeah, but how do you know that?” I cross my arms and stare him down, despite how uneasy I feel.

“I’ve seen pictures of you.” He carries my stare with such a manner of confidence. I grow even more anxious. This man clearly doesn’t worry about much. “Well, a picture. She likes to show it to people all the time. Her son. Her pride and joy.”

I shake my head. “That’s a lie. My mother doesn’t give a shit about me.”

His expression darkens. “Okay, I might have embellished the last part, but she does have a picture of you in her house.”

In my house? So he’s been there. He was probably the one who broke the door down too.

I clench my hands into fists, my nails piercing my palms.  “Do you know where my mother is?” I ask through gritted teeth.

A smirk rises on his face. “I haven’t seen her since,” a thoughtful look crosses his expression, “since about four days ago when she begged for her life and promised she’d pay me back my thousand dollars.”

I inch toward him, ignoring the big guy’s warning to stay back. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything to her.” His voice is like ice as he leans in to my face. “But if you do see her, tell her I’m still waiting for my money. And I’m not a very patient man.” With that, he turns and heads toward the back door.

I try to follow after him, but one of his bodyguards pushes me back so forcefully I stumble into a wall.

“Fuck!” I curse, kicking the wall.

A few people glance in my direction, but they’re too high to question what my problem is. I tug at my hair, wanting to scream. Why the fuck does my mother have to get herself into this shit? Why do I have to care so damn much?

Through my fit of rage, warm fingers envelop my arm. I don’t have to look up to know the hand belongs to Clara. I allow her to guide me out of the club and across the parking lot. By the time we reach the car, I’m so damn frustrated I’m shaking.

“Give me your keys,” she demands, sticking out her hand.

I hand them over without arguing, knowing I’m too riled up to be behind the wheel.

We get in the car, and she drives out onto the road. She’s silent for a while, chewing on her lip, mulling over what the hell to say to me.

“I’m just frustrated,” I finally say, resting my head against the cool glass of the window, “with who she is. How she turned out. It pisses me off that she’d get herself into a place in her life where her son can easily believe some drug dealer killed her.” 

“What did Marcus say to you?” she asks as she steers the Jeep into the motel parking lot.

After she parks the car, I give her a recap of the conversation I had with Marcus.

“You think he knows where she is?” she asks when I’m finished. She turns off the headlights and the engine.

“I don’t know… maybe.” I unbuckle the seatbelt and rotate in the seat, looking at her through the darkness flooding the cab. “But it doesn’t really matter. What’s done is done, I guess.”

“You don’t mean that.” Clara reaches out and brushes my hair out of my eyes. Her touch is soft and affectionate and somewhat calms me down. “You’re just upset, which is understandable.”

She’s right. Deep down I still care about my mother enough to keep searching for her. Time’s running out, though, and I’m not sure what I’ll do if I don’t find her by the time I have to head back home.

“Let’s go inside, okay?”  Clara drops the car keys into my palm. “We can watch another movie or something. Order pizza.”

“What kind of a movie?”

“Whatever kind you want.”

“How about a porno? Since you’re into those.” It takes a lot of energy to make the joke, but I feel better when I do.

She smiles. “And there he is again. I was getting worried about you.”

“Worried enough to watch a porno with me?”

“You’d have to be a lot more upset for me to do that.”

“Guess I have something to look forward to, then.”

Her forehead creases. “What do you mean? I didn’t agree to watch one.”

“You kind of did, though.” I crack the door open, and a breeze gusts into the cab. “I mean, one day, way in our future, I’ll be so upset about something you’ll have to watch one with me because you said you would.”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t quip back, and I somehow feel like I won her at that moment, like she’s agreed to be with me. By the time we get out of the car, I feel so much lighter than I did at the club.

“Thank you for making me feel better,” I tell her as we stroll past the motel doors.

“Any time.” She glances up at me with compassion in her eyes. “What else can I do to help cheer you up?”

“Well, it is Friday night, so…” I give her a hopeful look.

An uneven breath rushes from her lips then she nods. “Okay.”

I can’t believe how easily she agreed. “How about, from now on, we just pretend every day is Friday?”

She stares at the ground. “If that’s what you want.”

I hook a finger underneath her chin and force her to look at me. “It’s what I want.”

Her eyes flood with so many emotions it’s overpowering to watch. I stop and back her up against the wall, needing to kiss her right this instant. I can’t wait another second for our lips to connect.

“I like this.” With every breath she takes, her chest crashes against mine.

“Like what?” I spread my fingers across on the brick wall behind her, trapping her between my arms.

“This stuff.” Her gaze zeroes in on my mouth. “The kissing stuff.”

“Good. So do I.” My tongue slips out of my mouth, wets my lips as I angle my body over hers.

My eyelids drift shut and I take a deep breath before sealing our lips. She tips her head back, giving me access to kiss deeper as her hands wander down my chest to the bottom of my shirt and sneak up beneath the fabric. My muscles constrict beneath her touch, and my cock instantly goes hard inside my jeans. I’m crossing my fingers that, when we get to the room, she’ll let me touch her like I’ve always wanted to. Skin to skin. Let me all the way in.

Without breaking the kiss, I blindly steer us in the direction of our door, fumbling to get my wallet out so I can retrieve the cardkey.

As I’m feeling around in my pocket, someone clears their throat. I wouldn’t think too much of it except that I recognize the smell of the cheap perfume and cigarettes swirling through the air.

I jerk my mouth away from Clara’s so abruptly her eyes pop wide.

“W-what’s wrong?” she stammers, placing her fingers to her lips.

“It’s my—”

“Jax, baby.” The skeleton of the woman I used to know cuts me off, strutting toward me with a cigarette between her lips and her arms opened. “Come give Mama a kiss.”

Clara

At the sound and sight of his mother, the color drains from Jax’s face. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were… dead.” His arms fall lifelessly to his sides as he gapes at her in disbelief, as though he’s unsure if she’s real.

I stare at her in a similar manner, but for a very different reason.

The woman in front of us hardly resembles a person let alone a mother. With boney arms and legs, sunken cheekbones, and saggy skin, she looks too frail to even be standing. Still, if I look at her close enough, I can see the resemblance between her and Jax, at least in the eyes. Although, hers don’t convey the same sort of kindness as Jax’s.

“Aren’t you going to hug me?” She spans her arms to her side.

Jax refuses to budge. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Her gaze is shifty, her body twitchy, like she’s either afraid or on something—maybe both. “What, I can’t stop by to see my son?”

“Stop by to see your son?” Jas states incredulously. “You’re the one who called me saying some guy named Marcus was going to kill you.”

She plucks the cigarette from her dry lips, and a cloud of smoke circles her face. “Is that why you came here, to check up on me?”

“I thought you were dead,” Jax snaps in the harshest tone I’ve ever heard him use. “Aunt Julie thinks you’re dead, too.”

She rolls her eyes melodramatically. “Your Aunt Julie is overdramatic.”

“So are you, apparently.” He waves his hand in her direction. “Because here you are, clearly fine.”

She pops the end of the cigarette into her mouth.

I don’t know how, but I have a feeling she’s about to say something seriously messed up. Perhaps because of her soulless expression.

“I lied,” she divulges as she puffs smoke in Jax’s face. “I staged the whole call so you’d come out here looking for me. I knew there was no way in hell you’d come for the real reason. I would have probably tracked you down sooner, but my phone’s been disconnected for a while… I wasn’t even sure you were here yet, but I ran into Melinda and sure enough, she said my cute little Jax was here looking for me. You were always so good about that.”

Rage shockwaves through his body as he lets out a sequence of curse words. Then he spins to the side and bashes his fist into the wall, startling the living daylights out of me. I’ve never, ever seen him so angry. I just want to hold him and tell him everything will be all right, even though I don’t know if it will.

“Jax.” I try to soothe him as he punches the wall again and his knuckles split open. “Just calm down.”

The anger in his eyes simmers a notch when he sees me staring at him in horror.

I’m sorry,
he mouths before he slowly turns to his mother, cradling his injured hand against his chest. “I fucking knew it. I knew there was probably more to that call. Yet, I came here like a sucker.”

“You always did care too much,” she agrees, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “And trust is your biggest fault.” She gives me a look, as if she’s warning me to be on the lookout for those traits in Jax, as if being caring and trusting is the worst thing in the world.

“What do you want?” Jax growls before she can say anything else.

She puffs on her cigarette. “A thousand dollars.”

A condescending laugh rings from Jax’s lips and echoes around us. “Are you being fucking serious right now? Or are you just high?”

Smoke snakes from her lips. “If I don’t get it, I’ll—”

“Be in trouble with Marcus,” Jax finishes hollowly.

“How do you know about Marcus?” She grazes her thumb along the bottom of her cigarette, scattering ashes across the ground.

“We met him while we were looking for you.” He flexes his injured fingers. “He said you owe him a thousand dollars and to remind you he isn’t a very patient man.”

“See, this is why I need your help.” She scratches at the back of her neck. “Time is running out.”

“I don’t get why you think I can help you, though.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “I don’t have a thousand fucking dollars. I spent everything I did have saved up on this goddamn trip.”

“You have no money at all?” she questions, skeptically eyeing him over. “Like zero dollars?

“Nope. I’m flat broke.” He seems proud to be telling her this, that he honestly can’t give her money. “Guess your little charade was all for nothing.”

“Then how are you getting home? I mean, you gotta pay for gas…” She sticks out her hand to him. “Gimme some of that.”

Is this woman for real? Seriously, what the hell? My mother, who brought a rooster home, doesn’t come off near as crazy as the woman standing in front of me right now.

“I’m paying for the gas,” I say, a conniving smile reaching my lips when she directs her attention to me.

Her eyes narrow to slits and places her hands on her hips. “And you are?”

“Jax’s girlfriend and the person who’s not going to give you the gas money,” I explain with sugary sweetness dripping from my voice.

She glares at me. “What gives you the right to speak to me that way?”

I shrug. “I’ll speak to you any way I like. I don’t know you.”

“And yet you judge me,” she retorts with disdain.

“It’s kind of hard not to when you’ve made it pretty clear you’re the shittiest mother on the planet.”

She drops the cigarette to the ground and stalks toward me. “You little—”

Jax pushes her, and she trips into the door. “Don’t fucking put a hand on her,” he warns.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother,” she fumes, her chest heaving with rage as she works to regain her balance.

“Maybe by blood,” Jax replies, sounding calmer, “but nothing more.”

She opens her mouth to disagree, but then decides against it and snaps her jaw shut. Then she fishes a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lights up another one. “You really don’t have any money?”

I shake my head in astonishment. How can someone like her exist?

“Nope, not a damn dime,” he answers, massaging his swelling knuckles.

“Wait a minute...” She notes Jax’s injured hand. “You still have that ring I gave you?”

Jax tucks his hand behind his back. “I’m not giving you that back. That’s the one damn thing I have that belongs to a family you never let me get to know.”

She rolls her eyes, annoyed. “That ring was never your grandfather’s. I just told you that to stop you from asking about your father. Seriously, you were such a whiney kid.”

“So the story was bullshit?” His confidence weakens. “God, I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

She sighs impatiently. “Look, when you were younger, you went through this phase where you kept asking where your dad was after one of your teachers wanted you to make a family tree. Since I don’t even have a clue who your father is, I made up a story about your grandfather giving me that ring to give to you one day. It was only to shut you up. I planned on taking the ring back when you were sleeping or something, but I honestly forgot you had it.”

“Then whose ring is it?” The hurt in his voice tears my heart apart.

She shrugs indifferently as she stuffs the pack of cigarettes into her pocket. “I have no clue. I jacked it off this rich guy I was screwing. Figured it might be worth something.”

The silence that follows is excruciatingly painful.

Shaking his head, Jax yanks off the ring and drops it on the ground. “You know, the really stupid part about this whole thing is that, if you would have just told me over the phone what was going on, I would have sent you the fucking ring.”

“I didn’t really think about it… I was a little out of it when I called,” she explains, scrambling to pick up the ring.

“High as always and your kids are still paying for it.” Jax interlaces our fingers, his hand trembling as he swings around and heads for our room. “And FYI, I don’t think that ring is worth a thousand dollars.” She mutters something unintelligible, and Jax keeps walking, but turns toward her before he unlocks the door to go inside. “Do me a favor, okay?”

“Okay... whatever you need.” She barely pays attention to him, focused on the ring in her hand.

“Don’t ever fucking call me again.” His voice is composed, but his body quivers.

Her fingers curl around the ring.  “If that’s what you want, then I’ll give it to you.”

His jaw is set tight as he gives a firm nod. “It’s what I want.”

“Okay, then.” She grins, like she really does believe she’s done this great favor for him. Then she hurries away from us and toward the road.

Once she’s vanished into the night, Jax releases a deafening exhale as his head slumps against the door. He bangs his forehead against the wood a few times, his body shaking as he takes several erratic breaths. He’s crying and I have no clue what to do. I know that, after my father died, I spent a lot of time alone in my room, sobbing my heart out. The loneliness made me feel sad and empty inside, like I’d never feel warm again.

I do the only thing I can think of and wrap my arms around him. “Hey, I know this sounds stupid right now, but it’s going to be okay.”

“I know it is,” he mutters, facing me with his head tucked down. His arms enclose around me and he buries his face in my hair, soundlessly crying.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes are red and puffy. “Sorry.” He clears his throat, seeming ashamed by his emotional breakdown.

“Don’t apologize. Remember, I’m here for support.” I dry a few stray tears from his stubbly cheek with my fingertips. “And look on the bright side. Now you know she’s okay, and you can go home.”

“
We
can go home,” he presses with a smoldering look that makes my skin feel like melting wax. “I really like the sound of that.”

“You know what? I do, too,” I agree.

With a trace of a smile, he slides the cardkey through the lock and opens the door.

As I’m walking inside the room, I glance back at the desolate parking lot where Jax’s mother walked away from her son without so much as a glance back. Even though I’ve enjoyed my time with Jax, I’m glad to be going home. As stressful as my life is, and as complicated as my mother can make things, I’m lucky I still have her, even if it’s just pieces of her.