Mercy's Angels Box Set (16 page)

              I woke to the sounds of muffled whispers and Eli’s doleful attempt to be quiet. I didn’t expect them to tiptoe around me, even though it was too early to be up on a Sunday. Annie had an early shift at the diner and as soon as Eli heard his mother’s footsteps, he was wide awake and alert. After only a week we had settled into a comfortable household routine. The tranquil morning activities going on around me might have had a familiar feel about them, but the warm hard body pressed at my back was completely foreign. I knew immediately who it was, but it still shocked the hell out of me and my eyes sprang open in alarm. I glanced over my shoulder to be sure and found a beautiful pair of steel grey eyes staring back at me.

              “Morning angel,” he whispered, a smile tugging at his lips. Hell he looked gorgeous all sleep ruffled and messy.

              “Hi,” I managed, my eyes once again drifting to his lips, remembering the earth shattering kiss from last night. He smiled that far too smug grin that I was coming to know well. His eyes drifted to my lips and in a sharp contradiction to the ever confident Jax, I blushed.

              “Hi!” Eli’s happy little voice came from beside the couch. Jax reached over and tousled his hair.

              “What did you make me for breakfast little man?” Jax asked and just like that any awkwardness vanished.

              “Eli, I told you to keep it down,” hissed Annie.

              “Don’t be silly Annie, we’re sleeping in his living room!” I grumped as I slid off the couch. I was not a morning person, I had never been a morning person and no amount of drop dead gorgeous man waking beside me would change that.

              “What happened to your wrist?” Eli asked. All three adults in the room suddenly became motionless, stunned into an uneasy silence. My sleeve had slipped up, revealing the deep ugly scar across my wrist. Annie looked at me curiously, no doubt wondering what sort of an unstable girl she had sleeping on her couch and looking after her son. Eli’s eyes were full of innocent curiosity and Jax, well I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him.

              “I….” I was lost for words. I couldn’t even begin to explain my scars to a six year old.

              “It was an accident Eli,” Jax grabbed my wrist, raising it to his mouth and placing a quick chaste kiss to my scar. “A terrible accident a long time ago, but Ella is fine now.” Eli seemed more than content with that explanation but Annie’s look told me she would be asking questions later. Annie and I hadn’t told our stories yet, though if we were going to be living together, with me looking after her son from time to time, I think our demons needed to be laid on the table for both to see, no lies, no secrets. Honesty was an important part in building trust.

              “Okay, I have to get going or I’ll miss my bus.” Annie wiped her hands on a tea towel as she put a bowel of hot porridge at the breakfast bar for Eli.

              “Let me give you a lift Annie, I’ve got to go down town and pick up some supplies for Mercy’s, I’m supposed to be down there at seven, I’ll have enough time to drop you to the diner.” I could see the relief in Annie’s face, the bus sucked. It was warm, but it was often late and standing in the freezing cold by the side of the road waiting was a bitch made ten times worse if it started snowing.

              “Are you sure?” Jax stood up, stretching and his hands almost brushed the ceiling. Damn he was huge.

              “Absolutely, go grab your coat.” Annie disappeared down the hall and Jax pulled on his own coat stuffing his skull cap in his pocket. I couldn’t believe how sexy he was, his body was like a finely carved marble sculpture, his face crafted to perfection and he wanted me. Little, frightened, mutilated, me. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that. Was the man crazy? He leant forward and pressed his warm lips to mine. I immediately accepted the kiss, reaching to drag him forward, needing the safety and heat of his body. Jax pulled away though, his cheeks slightly flushed.

              “Angel, if you keep kissing me like that I’ll never be able to leave,” he breathed in my ear. It gave me a small thrill to think I could affect him in that way.

              “Eli, be good for Ella. If you play up she will ring me and then you’ll have a real nasty auto robot on your case.” Eli spluttered his porridge everywhere as he laughed at his mother.

              “It’s autobot mom, not auto robot!”

              “Or maybe Ella can just call me and I can take you back to Mercy’s to do some laundry. I know how much you love that.” Jax tickled Eli mercilessly before opening the door for Annie. Eli groaned at the thought of laundry. Jax glanced back in my direction.

              “I’m sorry I have to run so early, but I promise to make it up to you,” he winked. “Got your phone?” I looked about for the infernal device that was quickly coming to rule my life. I finally found it under a cushion by the couch and I waved it in the air like a miraculous discovery. Jax chuckled as he left the apartment and Eli looked over his spoon at me.

              “What are we going to do today?” He asked. Looking after a six year old was still very new to me. I had no idea what I enjoyed as a kid, probably drawing. I thought for a moment as I cleaned up the kitchen.

              “How about we go to the library?” I suggested. Apparently that was like the best idea in the world and as I watched Eli jump around the room like a little popping bean I felt a small resemblance to the before Ella. The carefree Ella who loved to sing out loud, dance in the rain and smile like there was nothing in this world to fear. Before Ella had been far too naïve.

              I didn’t see Jax again that day, or the next. He was tied up with Mercy’s and Carter Constructions but he sent me plenty of text messages confirming his thoughts were never far from me. Some of the messages made me laugh, some made me blush and some made me down right lustful.

              “My vagina flowers came in,” Rebecca sang from the front door, taking a bucket of flowers from a young delivery guy who seemed both mortified and intrigued by her words. I simply stared at her.

              “You buy flowers for your vagina?” I finally managed to ask. Rebecca gave me a scheming wink.

              “You don’t think our vaginas are deserving of something special like flowers? In the wise words of Betty White, ‘those things take a pounding’. First your period and all the equipment that goes with that business, then sex which for the first time feels like you’re being split in half and then babies, god, child birth, that must be the death of our poor poonani.” Rebecca sighed and I must have looked mortified.

              “Poonani?” I squealed.

              “Snatch?” She offered instead. I shrugged and grinned at her playful mood.

              “Pootang?” I suggested and Rebecca snorted.

              “Pink lips?” I laughed loudly at that one and it was a while before I had enough control to talk again.

              “Beaver?” I shrugged. Now it was Rebecca’s turn to laugh.

              “Oh that’s an oldie but a goodie. I think my sister used to call them beavers when she was eleven.”

              “We need our own name for it. What about central loving station?” Tears rolled freely down my face as Rebecca looked at me with an appreciative smile.

              “I like it.” I somehow managed to garble behind my shrieks of laughter.

              “Me too, much better than coochie.” Rebecca said thoughtfully.

“And you bought flowers for your central loving station?” We both erupted into laugher again and neither one of us noticed the chime above the front door.

              “Looks like you ladies are having way too much fun to be working,” Jax smirked from the doorway. Rebecca somehow found some composure and stared at him with a serious frown.

              “Actually, it began as a very serious conversation about buying our vagina’s flowers and somehow turned into what I can only describe as blasphemy.”

              “Oh, you’re going to have to explain yourselves now.” Jax’s look could only be described as enthusiastic.

              “Rebecca bought flowers for her central loving station.” Jax looked at me and blinked, once, twice.

              “Central loving station?” He asked.

              “Poonani.” I explained and Jax nodded, caught somewhere between shock and amusement.

              “Let’s get some things straight. I did not buy my central loving station flowers. Yes Jax, we just made that up, sounds much better than poonani or beaver, much more grand. And my vagina flowers came in, Clitoria Ternatea, see?” She held up a small potted plant with a beautiful array of blue flowers that did look suspiciously like our central loving stations.

              “Okay, I may have overextended my desire to know about your central love station discussion. Please, feel free to leave me out.” Rebecca dusted off her hands and watched Jax with an appreciative eye. The unfamiliar sensation of jealousy rippled through my body and I squirmed uncomfortably. Rebecca was stunning, quirky, successful, confident, everything I wasn’t. Jax would have to be crazy not to be interested in someone like Rebecca.

              “So, to what do we owe the pleasure Mr. Carter?” She asked in a purr that I knew was full of overt sexual interest. To my astonishment Jax barely acknowledged Rebecca, his gaze was fixed right on me. My heart thumped hard and fast as those hungry gray eyes held mine captive in a blatantly possessive manner. 

              “I was hoping to take my angel to lunch.” Rebecca turned slowly to look at me with eyes that screamed what the fuck? She smirked.

              “Huh, as it stands, your angel is due for a break and I need a moment with my clitoria. You know, to take in her grand beauty and all.” I snorted, very unlady like, but I think in recent days I had proven the lady part of me had become a vague shadow that rarely came out to play.

              “Off you go,” Rebecca pulled at the back of my apron, releasing the knot and pushing me towards Jax. “Go, enjoy, take your time. You haven’t had a break today, so take a long lunch.”

              I gave Rebecca a suspicious frown. “You keep your hands off the clitoria. The mood you’re in you’re likely to make it wilt.” Jax tried in vain to muffle his surprised laugh and Rebecca smirked.

              “You just leave me and my clitoria alone. I’ve been in the business long enough to know how to handle one.” Jax groaned.

              “Oh god. I think I need to clean out my ears. Or have a cold shower, maybe both.” I followed Jax laughing into the street, leaving Rebecca and her latest Bouquets addition to some quality alone time.

              Over the past week I had observed Ella emerge into a somewhat confident woman with a somewhat tranquil joy. There was still a guarded presence in her eyes and she became nervous around strangers, especially men. I was pleased to note she would gravitate towards me in those situations, taking subtle steps into my body and accepting the simple safety of my arm around her shoulders. She was so tiny beside me and I liked that my size gave her comfort rather than fear. She had in a short time been able to give me something invaluable, her trust. Tonight I was taking her into town, to the official lighting of the Claymont tree. The twenty foot Christmas tree was propped up every year in the center of town and laced with Christmas decorations and a week before Thanksgiving the lights were lit, accompanied with a live band, fireworks and food stalls. It had taken a shit load of sweet talking and negotiating to get Ella to agree to come with me. She was not fond of large crowds and she was more than a little reluctant to partake in anything to do with the holidays. I was dying to take her out somewhere public and show the world that she was mine. Perhaps it was a little Neanderthal of me, but I wanted everyone to know that Ella Munroe was with me. Hell, I might as well lift my leg and pee on her.  

              As I pulled on my coat, the heavy riff from Highway To Hell broke my possessive thoughts. I glanced at my phone and felt my heart drop when I noticed it was Dillon finally calling in with information on Marcus Fairmont. I had been both eager for this call and dreading it at the same time.

              “Dillon, tell me good news,” I sighed, falling back into a chair.

              “Hey man, how’s things?” Dillon sounded tired as shit.

              “Hopefully better in a few minutes, did you find him?” Dillon grunted and I could hear the distant shuffle of papers. He was calling from his office. I could imagine him with his military text book buzz cut he couldn’t seem to leave behind, constantly worried brow and shit kicker boots no doubt kicked up on his desk. It was his business, he could put his feet on the desk if he wanted, but Dillon inside an office was an unusual combination. Dillon was made for the outdoors, his heart, soul and body created for action. His decision to take permanent leave when I did shocked the hell out of me. He said without me watching his six he was as good as dead. If the situation had been reversed, I would have felt the same. Dillon at your back in a sand filled cesspit full of untrained militants with itchy trigger fingers was about as safe as one could be.

              “He’s still in Dunston, hasn’t moved. Missing Persons File is still active and I have it on good authority that he hired a new P.I twelve months ago, I’m still digging to see if that search is ongoing.” I rubbed my pounding head as I absorbed the news. He was still looking for her.

              “We need to make the missing person file disappear.” It was easy enough to do; the file could be made inactive if the person was to be found not missing.

              “Not a problem. Ella might have to make an appearance at the local to confirm her identity,” Dillon confirmed.

              “It needs to be somewhere else. Fairmont has friends in the force and I don’t want any reports leading anyone back to Claymont,” I thought out loud.

              “It can be done anywhere. Just take a road trip to Elkington, it’s a solid nine hour drive. Police there will be able to get a copy of Ella’s missing person file and confirm her identity. She’s over eighteen, so if she wishes to maintain anonymity it won’t be a problem.”

              “Thanks Dillon, not the greatest news, but it’s better than what I could have hoped for.” Dillon sighed and it was a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He wasn’t done.

              “You have something else for me?” I asked.

              “There was a reason he put a fresh P.I on the case. I’m assuming since Ella is doing her damndest to avoid her family, she isn’t aware that her mother died almost a year ago?” And there was our ‘oh shit’ moment. My mouth was so dry I could barely speak.

              “How?”

              “Suicide, got the report here.” At the sound of paper rustling and Dillon’s muttered curse just beyond the phone my stomach twisted into knots of nervous apprehension. I knew exactly what the report was going to say.

              “Don’t tell me she cut her wrists.” Dillon paused at my words.

              “Yeah, she did. Not a common suicide method, messy and most people hate the thought of cutting themselves. Drugs are preferred these days. How’d you know?” Fuck. Marcus had killed Ella’s mother.

              “Was there anything to suggest foul play?”

              “Not really, she had a heavy dose of sleeping pills in her system, made me wonder just how she was able to make the incisions when she should have been passed out, but she had a small window of opportunity before the drugs took effect. Suzanna Fairmont had been in therapy for some time, apparently she harbored some pretty major guilt issues over her mothering skills and she still struggled with her former husband’s death, according to one, hold on,” more papers rustled, “Dr. Theo Stojanovic. Apparently Ella’s father, Mr. Riley Munroe died of a heart attack on November 25th, 2004, Thanksgiving Day, he was forty-one years old. Suzanna killed herself on the ninth anniversary of his death. Not to be a pessimist and not to refute the good doctors ability, but from what I was able to garner, Suzanna Fairmont was your classic spoilt bitch who barely mourned her first husbands passing. In fact all evidence suggests she was already sleeping with Fairmont when Riley died. She liked money, a lot and it crossed my mind that she might have had something to do with his death, but I’ve checked out the autopsy report, seems a clean cut heart attack and there was no massive insurance payout to give her a real motive. Anyway, I dug a little and found a former friend of Suzanna’s who was willing to discreetly talk. She claims Suzanna had changed over the last twelve months prior to her death. Stopped all travel, became less social, less shopping, generally withdrawn. What bothered me most though was this friend saw bruising on Suzanna. Said she hid it well but she saw marks on her arms and neck, seemed odd and Suzanna apparently didn’t take well to being questioned about it.”

              “Fuck,” I muttered.

              “I’ve already emailed you copies of the reports,” continued Dillon.

I scrambled from my chair and made my way into the small room at the back of the house where my home office was set up. Sitting down at the computer I quickly fired it up.

              “I’m going to send you some stuff too. I’ve made up a file for Ella, consider it classified Dillon. No one lays eyes on it except for you.” The moment I had decided to make Ella mine, I had made notes on everything she had told me. Tried to memorize dates and create a time line. I don’t know why exactly, it just seemed important to somehow document what she had been through.

              “This Ella,” Dillon paused, “she’s special right?” I had only told Dillon the bare essentials where Ella was concerned and it wasn’t the first time I had him help out a girl from Mercy’s shelter, but Dillon was observant. He was the best at what he did because he had some sort of inexplicable sixth sense.

              “Let me put it this way, if the fucker is able to still threaten her I will gladly take up arms again.” Dillon chuckled.

              “Shit, sounds like love Sarge.” I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t about to admit that to Dillon, but he was pretty much spot on.

              “Files are on their way now. Call me anytime, middle of the night if you have to. Let me know what you need in terms of money and I’ll get it to you.” Dillon scoffed at the suggestion.

              “Don’t be a dick I don’t need your money. You can build me a rocking chair or something.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Dillon in a rocking chair.

              “For my nan you asshole!” He growled.

              “Whatever you say,” I chuckled. “Dillon, just be sure those files stay private and keep this quiet. If Fairmont catches wind that we are digging around, the shit will hit the fan.” I ended my call to Dillon and stared at the computer a moment longer, briefly skimming the notes Dillon had sent me. I leaned back in my chair considering everything I had learned in just fifteen short minutes. Ella’s father had died in the holidays, Thanksgiving Day of all days, no wonder she wasn’t into Christmas. Marcus Fairmont was a bigger threat than I first perceived. He was definitely capable of murder and he had hired a new P.I only twelve months ago in an attempt to find Ella. She had done a damn good job of staying hidden. All that running and living under the radar had paid off. For Ella to finally have her freedom I was going to have to take Marcus Fairmont out. If enough evidence could be compiled, I had no doubt we could take this to court. A man like Marcus Fairmont had shit in his closet, a truck load of it. He was well financed and a pro at hiding it, but nobody could bury their entire past. Dillon just needed to do what he did best, dig in deep and latch on. Dillon was like a bloodhound and once he caught wind of something there was no stopping him.

              Abandoning the computer and heading out to pick up Ella, I tried to find the excitement I was savoring a short time ago, though I couldn’t deny the heavy shadow that had fallen over my heart. I had no idea how I was going to tell Ella her mother had died, especially the way with which she died. Not tonight, I couldn’t tell her tonight. Tonight was about making good memories. I rubbed at the knot in my neck and pushed the trouble away. Nothing could be done about it this minute, Dillon was working the case and I would do whatever necessary to keep Ella safe and happy.