Mercy's Angels Box Set (8 page)

Shaking my head I grabbed my backpack and made my way to one of the spare beds at the furthest end of the room. The bathrooms were not handy at this end, but there appeared to be no one in the two beds beside me, which meant if I had nightmares I would hopefully not disturb anyone else. My nights were still haunted with visions of Marcus. I occasionally woke screaming, sometimes crying. I didn’t want these women who were battling their own demons to be witness to mine. I didn’t wish my nightmares on anyone, not even the blonde bimbo Selena. She didn’t realize how lucky she was. The fact she had looked at me with what I can only assume was jealousy was ridiculous, she certainly had nothing to be jealous about. No one wanted my life, not even me. She looked like one of those girls who had it all and it seemed as though she had Jax too. Though he certainly didn’t seem happy with her tonight, his tone icy cold, his eyes looked at her with frustration and anger. Not the same kind of anger Marcus was consumed with, just irritation. It’s all in the eyes. No one can hide what lies there, but it takes someone special to be able to see it. Most people look at the face as a whole, body language, gage the voice, the words. I blank all that out and concentrate on eyes and Selena’s eyes were fake. She was fake and I couldn’t understand why Jax would want a girl like that. Sighing I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable tug into exhaustion, where images of Marcus continued to haunt me.

              Once my shift began I found myself sitting by a dim lamp in the common room, watching Ella. If it didn’t feel so right I might actually feel like some sick crazy perve. This tiny little girl had somehow become an important part of my life. I tried to examine it, look at the situation objectively, compare my need to help her to the need I had to help the other women, the need I had felt to save Sarah. At the end of a long hour of consideration, I decided my want for Ella must be simple, primitive male lust.  Yeah, even that didn’t feel right. Sure I wanted her, but not just that delectable little body, I wanted all of her, heart and soul included and I had never felt that way about any of the other women who came to Mercy’s, especially not Sarah. Shit, this is what the guys I served with called ‘pussy whipped’.

              With the sun up again I found myself in the kitchen getting the breakfast ready. Mary would be in soon but I thought I’d surprise her and take the initiative to get the ball rolling. Porridge, toast, cereal and fruit, I couldn’t screw that up. The wafting arrival of coconut filled my senses. Ella stood beside me, tousled hair and rumpled clothes, reaching for the freshly brewed coffee.

              “Porridge, cereal or toast?” I asked. She grumbled and shook her head, taking a long sip of her coffee. She sighed. My girl wasn’t a morning person. My girl? I was not renowned for my possessive tendencies towards women so this ‘claiming’ confused the hell out of me. Furthermore, Ella was not mine. “You’re not leaving without eating and you’re taking that when you go.” I nodded toward a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. I had made her up some lunch a short while ago. It was the first time I had ever made lunch for someone other than myself. I remembered Mercy making lunches for me as a kid, a sandwich, piece of fruit and a muffin, packed in the same style paper bag.  Admittedly Ella was no kid, but I liked the thought of personally taking care of her, feeding her. She peered in the bag and then looked at me confused.

              “You made me lunch?” She was completely and utterly bewildered. Her mouth hung open with astonishment. She looked adorable.

              “You’re acting like no one ever made you lunch before.” Her head slowly shook.

              “Not since I was ten.” I glanced at her. She looked sad, another glimpse at the real Ella.

              “Your mother?” I gently nudged her into conversation. Her eyes flared for a moment with silent fury, interesting.

              “No. My mother didn’t do things like that.” Had her mother been the one to hurt her? I knew not to push, she needed to tell me things in her own time.

              “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s been a long time since someone made me lunch too. And it’s nothing to get excited over. It’s just a sandwich, muffin and an apple. I didn’t have to cook a single thing, so you should be safe.” Her frown disappeared with a shy smile as she leaned against the counter, holding her mug of coffee in a death grip as if worried someone might try and take it from her.

              “Toast, with jam,” she muttered. I quickly put two pieces of bread in the toaster. I thought it best to keep the conversation light, easy.

              “You are quite an artist. Ever think about doing something more with that?” She got that whimsical faraway look and smiled. This was good, a topic she liked to talk about.

              “I love to sketch, portraits and landscapes especially.” She blushed at her confession.

              “You’ve never thought about going to university to study, maybe trying to pick up work in a gallery?” She looked at me like I’d grown an extra head. “It’s not impossible you do have options.” She shook her head.              

              “It’s not in my future anymore. In fact I am very careful not to think about the future at all. My plans usually don’t stretch beyond a few days. What I need to do to stay safe, having somewhere to sleep. My life is about survival now, not fancy dreams of art.” She was so matter of fact about it but there was no missing the disappointment in her words.

              “You’re not safe here in Claymont?” I asked. She shrugged and emptied what was left in her mug into the sink and washed her plate.

              “Thanks for this,” she held up the last bite of her toast. “And this,” she grabbed the lunch I had prepared for her and pushed it into her backpack.

              “Not a problem, just make sure you eat it. You don’t need to faint to get me to fuss over you.” She blushed and I pretended not to notice as she quietly snuck away. 

              “Jax, come take a look at this.” Mercy called from the doorway a few minutes later. I followed her down the hallway and into her office where she promptly shoved a piece of paper in my face. It was a receipt for the electricity I had paid two days earlier. I shrugged.

              “Uh-huh. And?” I knew she would be pissed that I had paid the bill, but I also knew the shelter struggled to make ends meet and relied heavily on donations.

              “Jax, I don’t need handouts.” I laughed and threw the bill back down on top of the crazy-ass clutter that Mercy called an organized mess.

              “Mercy’s Shelter survives on handouts, don’t be petty.” She scoffed and looked away.

              “My son shouldn’t be paying my bills. The shelter is mine. I started it; it’s my job to keep it running.” Stubborn woman.

              “Yeah well, consider it a donation from Carter Constructions.”

              “Carter Constructions has already given several hefty donations this year. It’s a small company and I’m sure they can’t afford to make another one.” I shook my head. My company was doing more than alright. It was making a comfortable profit and I hardly had to stick my head in the door. I could knock together bits and pieces in my shed and drop them in to the factory as I pleased. Charlie and the boys kept the place running while I was on missions and now when I am busy at Mercy’s. Then there was the money I had accumulated in the army. I hadn’t had much cause to spend my money, other than to buy the few acres of land I owned just out of town and the small but comfortable house I had built on it. The shit I did and saw in Afghanistan might give me nightmares for the rest of my life, but it certainly left me comfortably financed.

              “You know what Mom, I love this place just as much as you do. I want to be a part of it and I can afford to pay some of the bills and if you don’t like it then tough titties.” Mercy just stared at me. She knew I meant business when I called her mom, it was like playing the guilt card.

              “Did you just say tough titties?” She stammered and I almost burst out laughing. Mercy was a good girl, even heck was a swear word coming out of her mouth. A small smile crept into her stubbornly pissed features.

              “I did. So suck it up and take my money, or I’ll open my own damn shelter.” Her face broke into a full blown grin and I couldn’t help but smile back. My mom was so beautiful when she smiled.

“So, tell me all about your Ella.” My Ella? I sighed and rubbed my stiff neck.

              “I don’t know. She seems different, special. I feel somehow drawn to her and she seems to trust me. She has scars, she showed me.” Mercy nodded eyes solemn and understanding. Mercy was acquainted with this sort of story personally. My dad had been one A grade asshole.

              “They’re all special Jax and they all have scars, some are worn on their skin, some deeper. I know you feel as though you let Sarah down, but you didn’t Jax. You don’t need to use Ella to make amends with Sarah’s death. Sarah was well beyond our reach when she came to us.”

              “For starters, none of them are beyond our reach. Secondly, I’m not using Ella to make amends. I’m just trying to do what I am meant to do and be there for her, help her, like all the women.” I hesitated a moment. “Actually, she kind of reminds me of you. I mean, not in a motherly kind of way, she’s just tiny like you. And she has so many scars, all over her arms and wrists and god knows where else. No doubt plenty of the psychological kind too.” I knew Mercy immediately thought the same thing I did when I first saw the scar on Ella’s wrist.

              “She didn’t try and kill herself. She was a self-harmer at some point most of her scars are faint and thin, classic self-harm cuts. But the scars on her wrist were forced.  Someone gave her those scars, most likely her father. She mentioned a ‘him’. She said she didn’t try to commit suicide because she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Apparently she sees this as some sort of a game and she doesn’t want him to win.” Mercy considered that for a moment.             

              “She’s confiding in you, that’s good Jax. She needs someone she can trust, someone who will do the right thing by her.” I nodded, secretly pleased that Ella might trust me enough to let me in but also noting the hidden meaning behind Mercy’s words. My relationship with Ella needed to remain professional. Ella needed that, she deserved that.

              “I heard Selena dropped by last night.” Mercy said changing the subject and I groaned, loudly.

              “I also heard she left pretty soon after looking pretty angry.” Mercy sighed.  “Jax, the women and children who stay here don’t need your personal life played out before them like a bad soap opera.” I couldn’t agree more.

              “I’m sorry Mercy. I didn’t invite her to drop by last night and I made sure she knew it wasn’t cool. She won’t be dropping by anymore, ever.”

              “It wouldn’t be a problem if she had some interest in the shelter, in the people who come here for help. I get the feeling that little tramp would only drop by for one thing and it would likely include this desk and her back on it.” My mouth dropped open at my mother’s crude description. Her furious blush confirmed she felt just as awkward saying it as I felt hearing it. I couldn’t believe my mother was talking so frankly about my sex life. It was completely and utterly uncool.

              “Don’t say another word. You, me and my sex life is totally off limits. But just so we are clear, Selena’s back has never graced this desk or any other piece of furniture in this shelter, nor will it. Not just because that is completely unprofessional and yes, I know there might have been a time when old Jax thought differently, but new Jax doesn’t behave like that. And I called it quits with Selena, for good.” I took a deep breath. God this conversation was almost as uncomfortable as the sex talk she had forced me to have with her when I was fourteen.

              “Good, on all counts. And Jax, I’m proud of you, always have been, even when you were old Jax, though I do like new Jax much better. Go home and get some sleep. Or better yet, go do some real work and make up that money your company ‘donated’ to our shelter.” I didn’t miss the ‘our shelter’ bit. My heart swelled just slightly at her words.

              “Thanks Mercy,” I said quietly as I stood and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

              “You’re a good son Jax. I love you more than you’ll ever know.” She hugged me back, her little arms holding me tight.

              “I love you too mom. And if this chick flick moment is over I’m going to The Pit Stop to have Benny serve my heart an unhealthy dose of grease.”

              “Oh, that sounds good. It’s been too long since I’ve had a Pit Stop breakfast. Dave and I might stop in after our shift tomorrow for one.” Mercy was suddenly captured in a greasy breakfast fantasy as I snuck out of the shelter.

              I couldn’t believe Jax had made me lunch. As I walked to Bouquets I stared at the brown paper bag in my hand, my surroundings and walk was a complete blur. Once at work, I sat trimming thorns from rose stems and couldn’t help but cast curious glances at the innocuous bag. I barely remembered my daddy making me lunch for school. Such an innocent harmless gesture, but I found myself wanting to save that simple brown paper bag and tuck it away in the bottom of my backpack with my most prized possessions, the sketches of my daddy and the phone Rita had bought me. It was a paper bag for goodness sake!

              “You hiding the crown jewels in that bag?” Rebecca teased. Her hair was in another difficult looking twist inspired by the fifties and she was dressed in a figure hugging dress with a skinny belt sitting high on her waist. The black apron with the word ‘Bouquets’ in a stylish yellow cursive across the front didn’t detract from the sexy look she was today rocking. I on the other hand had donned my best pair of khaki cargo’s, the only pair that didn’t have a single stain on them, a grey long sleeved thermal with my best blue t-shirt pulled over top and black converse sneakers. I too wore the mandatory black apron and today, my hair was neatly held back with a blue scarf. Rebecca was all class and I felt like a homeless woman standing beside her. I smirked at that ridiculous revelation. And now I was looking at the damn brown paper bag again.

              “No, just lunch,” I murmured. Rebecca was great with the customers. She smiled and laughed like she was old friends with everyone who walked through her door. When an elderly gentleman came in to order flowers for his wife’s funeral, Rebecca slipped effortlessly into compassionate mode. She helped the man plan a simple arrangement of lilies, his wife’s favorite and Rebecca held him in a warm tight embrace before he left. I blinked away the stubborn tears that threatened to spill at the sight of the old man’s own grateful weeping.  The shrill of the phone woke me from my daze.

              “For you,” said Rebecca with a mischievous smile handing me the cordless handset. It took me a moment to move, I was stunned into an imbecilic trance. I never got calls, I only made them. Once every couple of months to Rita. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite,” she laughed.

              “Hello,” I whispered.

              “I couldn’t wait until you called, I had to ring and check in, how are you?” Rita’s cheerful voice eased any trace of apprehension from my body. I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped my lips as I moved to the back of the store.

              “You scared the shit out of me,” I muttered.

              “Sorry honey. Rebecca called me last night, said you were working for her. I’m glad, she is a good person hon and you’ll be safe there.”

              “I like it here. The store is so warm, it smells pretty damn good and she puts caramel in her coffee, or whiskey depending on who she’s expecting in the store. Oh god Rita, caramel and coffee, it tastes like heaven.” Rita laughed.

              “You and that darn sweet tooth. You should be the size of a house!”

              “How’s BJ and Larry?”

              “There both fine honey. My little girl is home from college for the weekend and we’ve declared war on BJ. He refuses to wear his hearing aide so Renee and I are not speaking to him as punishment. He can’t hear a bloody word we say anyway. God it must be freezing there, please tell me you have somewhere warm to stay?”

              “I stumbled across a shelter. It’s the cleanest I’ve ever been in and they serve meals with real meat,” I sighed. I never hid the truth from Rita. She had earned my trust and honesty.

              “You shouldn’t be living in a shelter Ella,” moaned Rita. I knew she wanted better for me.

              “It’s okay Rita, honestly. It’s warm and clean. The owner Mercy is amazing and I’ve been helping out around the place. Jax even made me lunch today.” I chuckled at the memory of that little brown bag.

              “Jax?” Oh wow, had I actually said his name out loud? “Who’s Jax?”

              “His mother owns the shelter, he works there. He seems like a good person Rita, they all are. I have to get back to work, I’ll call before Christmas, I promise.” I tried not to think about Christmas which was now less than two months away. Holidays and birthdays had lost their joy when daddy had died. 

              “About Christmas sweetheart, I don’t want you to be alone this year and I know you don’t want to come back to Dunston, so why don’t we meet at Larry’s, I’ll give you a bus ticket as your Christmas gift.” Larry’s place was only a nine hour drive from Marcus, still too close. And I had never really spent a Christmas alone since leaving that hell hole called home anyway.  There was no end of volunteer work during the holidays, I always managed to keep busy.

              “I can’t Rita,” I finally confessed, not wanting to disappoint her but knowing I just couldn’t turn myself around and head back toward Marcus. The closer I got to home the worse the panic attacks became. Rita sighed.

              “I know honey, I just thought maybe over the years things might have gotten a little easier for you. Maybe BJ, Renee and I could meet you somewhere? Renee would love to finally meet you.” I knew Rita couldn’t afford a trip like that for all of them at this time of the year.

              “Honestly Rita, I just want to help out at the shelter, it makes me feel good to be helping somewhere. And I’ve got Rebecca, so it’s not like I’ll be completely alone.”

              “Okay sweetheart. I’m not going to push but I would really love to see you again one of these days. Maybe once Renee is back at college I could come down to Clayton and visit you and Rebecca, I’ve got a free trip up my sleeve with work.” The thought of seeing Rita again actually made me smile. I really did love her, she had saved my life. Oh boy, those damn infuriating tears were threatening me again. I swallowed hard, pushing the lump of emotion back down my throat.

              “I’d love that. We’ll talk again when it gets closer. Give my love to BJ and Larry and Renee of course.”

              “You take care Ella, be smart and keep safe.”

              I disconnected the call and took a moment to compose myself before heading back into the front of the shop. Rebecca was busy taking an order as I resumed the thorn pruning, a tedious though somewhat rewarding job. It felt like I was ridding something beautiful of something ugly. I wish it were that easy with life. Simply cut away all the nasty, ugly parts of ourselves and leave behind the beauty. Life would be so much easier.

              When I got back to the shelter today, there was no fainting. Instead I felt lighter than normal, carefree, even excited. Talking with Rita always infused me with energy and hope and the thought of seeing her after the holidays made me ridiculously happy. My thoughts quickly swung to a certain blonde haired giant with steel gray eyes. My brain was screaming all sorts of profanities about how stupid I was behaving, but my heart was skipping around like a school girl in piggy tails, all full of hope and innocent anticipation. Two more women had left the shelter today, supposedly for good. Well, they had said for good, but apparently they bounced back and forth between their violent home and the safety of Mercy’s regularly. Jax was nowhere to be found and once again I was confused by the relief and disappointment that racked my heart. All this inner turmoil was making my head hurt and my body crazy, I needed a break from it. I sat in the middle of my bed and folded laundry. My mind drifted with the monotonous task as my eyes wandered the long clean walls of the shelter. They were painted blue like the sky and I suddenly wished I had some paint. I could add big fluffy white clouds and a bright yellow sun, maybe some children playing around a big old Oak tree. Better yet I could sketch or paint pictures of all the staff and have them framed and mounted along the wall, maybe even some of the women who passed through the shelter. I snorted loudly and most unlady like. My fanciful thoughts and dreams would never be anything more than that, dreams. “Idiot,” I snarled quietly to myself.

              “Who are you talking too?” I jumped so high I nearly fell off the side of my bed grappling with the sheet to hold myself from falling. Jax stood over me with a cheeky grin on his face.

              “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” I yelled.

              “And you’ve got a dirty mouth,” he smirked. “What if Eli had of been with me?” I looked about feeling a little guilty and Jax chuckled.

              “Don’t worry, he’s down in the laundry with Mary and anyway, all those years in the army have turned me into quite the swearing machine so if you ever need pointers, feel free to ask.” He just stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets suddenly looking like a tall awkward boy. No words were exchanged, the moment full of unease and uncertainties. Jax boasted confidence and arrogance, but underneath all that big strong handsome man were insecurities, just like the rest of us.

              “You want to help?” I offered. Part of me hoped he’d say no, the weak part, the scared part. Another part of me prayed he’d say yes and I was assuming this part of me was all lustful woman. He grinned and promptly sat at the end of the bed and began folding towels.

              “Looks like you’ve done that before,” I teased, throwing his own words back at him from the previous night. He chuckled and nodded his head.

              “There was a time when I was referred to as the laundry King round here. People had respect and worshipped my skills.” It was my turn to laugh at his mocking arrogance.

              “So, what made you decide to become a soldier?” I asked after a short silence. Jax shrugged as he set a pile of clean towels to one side and began folding pillow cases.

              “Laundry expertise only gets you so far,” he winked at me, “And I always considered myself as some sort of defender of the human race. For a short while I considered being a superhero, but I had no special powers or cool costume, so military it was.” I folded my legs in front of me Indian style, a grin stretching from ear to ear. I liked his playful nature, it helped me to relax. “I thought about the police force and even being a fireman, but one day a few weeks before graduation this guy turned up at school to talk to some of us about the forces. The opportunity to travel, learn skills, make a difference, it was everything I needed to hear. I signed up the next day. You already know how the story ends.”

              “Do you regret it, being a soldier, going to war?” Jax shook his head, his eyes serious.

              “Not at all. I learnt skills, I learnt how to build, fix things, shoot a gun,” his grin was cheeky. “Every boy’s dream is to fire a weapon. When I was a boy I had so many damn toy guns I could have started my own neighborhood armory.” Guns made me nervous. Sure, I had handled one myself, clicked off the safety and pointed it directly into the heart of a demon, but I know if I had of pulled that trigger it would have changed me for the worse. Jax watched the play of emotions on my face.

              “Don’t get me wrong angel, I’m not some crazy hillbilly weapons freak. I have a gun, I have a license to carry it, but it stays locked up at home and it’s only taken out to be cleaned or for the firing range now and again. I got my gun play out of my system in the army.” I nodded and found myself paying far too much attention to the folded towel before me.

              “What about you angel, any regrets?” I laughed but it wasn’t a laugh filled with humor, more like a noise filled with shame.

              “Much of my life is regret.” I sighed and unconsciously rubbed my arms. “I do wish I had graduated high school though,” I quietly added, locked in memories of the few times I actually enjoyed school, before hate caught me in its ugly grasp.

              “Why don’t you then?” I looked at Jax and saw the sincerity in his words. I knew he was right, I could take night classes and graduate but then what? I couldn’t plan beyond a few days let-a-lone my entire future.

              “Thanks for helping,” I quickly stood, abruptly ending the conversation and gathered the washing as Jax slowly stood with me.

              “I’m off home tonight,” he said. I hated myself at that moment, the panic and disappointment that blindsided me. I nodded sharply and turned to leave.

              “I’ve got the day off tomorrow but I thought I’d drop by and say hello anyway,” he called out at my departure.

              I stopped and glanced back over my shoulder, my heart flipping wildly at just the sight of him.

              “I’d like that,” I confessed, before quickly running away.