Jax moved, and I followed him with my eyes, he took a glass of water, and a straw and held it for me. “Drink, sweetheart. You need fluids.”
I drunk, desperate to have some moisture back in my body. It's as I wrapped my lips around the straw when the confusion hit. Marco and my husband? I couldn't remember a thing. Whatever happened must have been bad; I'd never lost my memory before.
Oh, god, he'd seen me naked.
“You nearly fucking died, Ella. I fought Jozef to look after you.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, finishing the last of my drink.
He laughed almost. “Not physically, but I sure as hell wasn't letting you be taken away by him.”
I leaned back against the bed; my body propped up by pillows and looked away. “Why do you care so much what happens to me, Mr. Murdoch? I am not worth risking your life.”
He placed the glass back on the table and looked at me. “You don't deserve this life, darlin'. You deserve so much more.”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “How do you know what I do and don't deserve? You don't know me.”
Jax moved closer, his body leaning close to me and raised a hand. I shut my eyes, unable to bear the feeling he was enticing from me, and that feeling only grew fiercer when his thumb brushed across my bottom lip. When his knuckles brushed and caressed my jaw.
I shuddered from head to toe. This strange feeling spooked me.
“No, you're right, I don't know you, not yet, anyway. I want to change that, Ella. Fuck, if I sure as hell ain't goddamn enchanted by you.”
I gasped at his words, shaking my head. “No, no, he'll kill us both. Just do your job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll get out of this place alive.” I turned to look at him and those beautiful deep brown eyes. "I accepted my fate a long time ago; there is no saving me now, Mr. Murdoch."
His touch left mine so he could run his hands through his hair. He stood and moved around the room, my gaze followed him again, and I spotted the guitar propped against the wall.
The music had been Jax.
“Sing me something,” I said, desperate for that unhappy look on his face to be gone. “You play beautifully.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, looking at me and then the instrument. "Fuck it," he murmured to himself.
I watched, memorized, as he took a seat on a small plastic chair, adjusting the strap around his shoulder and strumming each string one by one. I played a little piano but didn't know much about guitars.
“Whaddya wanna hear, darlin'?” He smiled.
“Anything. Anything at all.” I shrugged, I didn't know many songs, yet I was incapable of keeping the goofy grin from my face. This must have been heaven; perhaps I had died. Things like this and men like him did not happen to me or come into my life.
“Okay, then.” And he began to play. It was magic to my ears and then his mouth parted and he sung along, keeping quiet, I assumed not to disturb anyone, it looked very early outside the window behind him.
With each note he played, something he'd awoken in me the first time I saw him had started to blossom, it was a strange feeling, so deep inside of me, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. My skin prickled with goosebumps when he hit this one, long, perfectly sustained note and my eyes shut.
I don't know what song he played, but the lyrics were intense. A man loving a woman so profoundly. Being affected by her every touch. Is that what love was? I'd never known it, of course, I'd read about it, too, and it saddened me that I'd never feel those things.
I don't know how long he played for, I grew sleepy again, and before I knew it, slumber had pulled me into her embrace once more.
Jax.
After leaving Ella to sleep, I wandered The Mansion some. It was a little after five a.m, and soon enough, the place would be alive and bustling with bodies. I'd not left her side, and the walking was doing my legs some good, my stomach growled, but I ignored it, needing a hit of nicotine instead.
Walking on to the patio, I took out and cigarette, sparked up, and looked at the horizon before me. The place was impenetrable, high walls surrounded the entire property, razor wire wrapped around the tops, but man, you couldn't deny the view. Surrounded by hundreds of acres of forest, I wondered who the fuck would be stupid enough even to try, but it had happened. Once, twelve years or so back, a rival network was pissed Vlad's coke was selling better. They'd tried to overtake his turf, in which he responded by killing several of their men, only for them to retaliate once more by storming the fortress.
They didn't succeed, of course, hell, I wished they had.
Blowing smoke into the crisp morning air, I paced back and forth, my brain confused, and my heart was aching. The wounds I'd seen on Ella, fuck, I'd never forget them. The marks, I couldn't even tell what had been against her soft flesh. Burns from cigarettes dotted her arms and legs, her fingernails were all different lengths, broken and dirty.
Fury like no other captured me, and despite her protests earlier, there was no fucking way I was leaving here without her. And if I were here for life, then I'd make damn sure she'd never be hurt like that again.
How she survived was a miracle, years of torture. She was stronger than me, that's for sure. I'd have damn lost my mind long by now.
A slight vibration came from my pocket. I pulled out my cell and frowned when seeing my dad's name light up. He's up early, I thought.
“Pop, you okay? Is mom okay?” I asked hurriedly.
He was breathless, his speech slurred. Oh, fuck, I wasn't going to like what he was to say.
“We're both fine, Jax, listen, I don't have much time, so I've just gotta spill this quick.”
“What do you mean you haven't got much time? Pop, you're scaring me.”
He groaned. “Jaxon, hush, alright? And listen very carefully.”
He told me about Kendra finding a package, told me how he'd gone to work, sent the guys out for runs, and told me how he knew the contents were going to be bad. There was no address on the front, he'd said, and after a bottle of whiskey, he'd finally found the courage to open the envelope up and see what was inside.
He shuddered audibly down the phone. “Luca was right, my boy, it seems Amy was having an affair.”
My blood ran cold as fucking ice, and I stiffened. “What the fuck, pop?”
“Three pictures of Amy with him.” He puffed.
"Pop, why are you breathing like that?"
“Jaxon, did you hear what I said?"
I shuddered. “Yeah, pop. But with who?” Amy. An affair. None of this made any fucking sense.
There was a long, deadly fucking pause before he spoke. “Vladimir, son.”
I almost dropped the phone, my legs almost gave way beneath me, and so I found one of many sun loungers and slumped down on to that. I felt sick as a fucking dog. Why, Amy?
“I'm sending pictures to you now, my boy,” he said, breathing almost calm now. “Just be prepared... They're a little explicit.”
“Does Carter know?” I asked, my mind whirring.
My Pop scoffed. “Don't be fucking stupid, boy, he's in no fit state to hear this. Let the man grieve; we don't need to add this to the mix.”
There was another silence before he spoke.