Stay With Me

He smirked. “You know what they say about Chevys.”

“Yeah, you’d rather be pushing one than driving a Ford?” I rolled my eyes. “Because that makes sense.”

Jax chuckled as he shifted out of park. I didn’t say anything as he pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road. Wondering about him flirting with me earlier and worrying about a MIA mom weren’t at the forefront of my thoughts as I started nibbling on my lower lip.

“How much do you think it’ll cost to repair the windshield?” I asked.

He slid me a look as he hit the stoplight near the mall. “At least a hundred-fifty, and with the whole thing being gone, probably more.”

My chest constricted as I mentally deducted that from what I knew was in my checking account and groaned. “That’s just great.”

Jax was quiet as the light turned green and he coasted out into the intersection. “You staying at one of the hotels?”

I snorted. Yep. Like a piglet. “Uh, no. Way too much money.”

“You’re staying at your mom’s house?” Incredulity rang from his tone.

“Yeah.”

He fixed his gaze back onto the road. “But she’s not there.”

“So? I used to live there.” I shrugged a shoulder as I lowered my hand to my lap. “Besides, I’m really not going to spend the money on a hotel when I can stay some place free.” Even if it was truly the last place I wanted to stay.

Jax didn’t say anything for a long moment and then, “Have you had anything to eat?”

Shaking my head, I pressed my lips together. I hadn’t eaten since that morning, and even then it was only a Rice Krispies treat. I’d been too nervous to eat anything else. My stomach grumbled, apparently pissed off that I was just now paying attention to it.

“Me neither,” he commented.

We made a pit stop at a fast-food joint, and because I was hungry, I ordered a hamburger and a sweet tea, but when I dug around in my purse for the limited cash I had on me, Jax had already handed over money at the drive-through.

“I have money.” I grabbed my wallet.

He slid me a bland look as he rested one arm on his window. “You ordered a hamburger and a sweet tea. I think I got it covered.”

“But I have money,” I insisted.

He arched a brow. “But I don’t need it.”

I shook my head as I started to open my wallet. “How much does it—hey!” I snapped as he took my wallet and my purse from my hands. “What the hell?”

“Like I said, honey, I got it covered.” Closing up my wallet, he dropped it in my purse and then shoved it behind his seat.

My eyes narrowed on him. “That’s so not cool.”

“A thank-you would be cool, though.”

“I didn’t ask you to pay for it.”

“So?”

I blinked at him.

Jax winked.

I drew back a little. He winked, and my lady parts were like whoa, way on board with that, which was probably a good indication I needed to pay more attention to said parts, because they were getting desperate.

And I was feeling a wee bit boy crazy, but who’d blame me?

A minute later we were back on the road and I had a huge bag of food in my lap and two sweet teas jostling around in a holder. I hadn’t really paid attention to what he’d ordered, but by the weight of the warm and wonderful-smelling bag, it was half the menu.

“You look nothing like your mother,” he said unexpectedly.

That much was true. Mom dyed her hair a sunny blond, or at least she used to. I wasn’t sure since I hadn’t seen her in a while, but the last time I’d been around her, the day I’d left Plymouth Meeting to attend Shepherd, she’d been looking . . . rough.

“Her life . . . it’s been hard. She used to be really pretty,” I heard myself saying as I stared out the window, watching the strip mall of fast-food joints disappear.

“I imagine so, if she looked anything like you.”

My gaze swung to him sharply, but he wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t grinning or smiling. Nothing about him would’ve led me to believe that hadn’t been a genuine statement, but I wasn’t pretty, and that belief had nothing to do with a low self-esteem. I had a scar cutting across my left cheek. That tended to universally ruin features.

I didn’t know what Jax was up to and I didn’t want to find out. I had bigger and more important things to focus on and worry over.

But when I saw that Jax was turning off the main roadway, hitting a back road—a shortcut—I was staring at him again. “You know where the house is?”

He grunted out what I assumed was a yes.

“You’ve been there before?”

His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “A few times.”

A horrible thought formed in my head. “Why have you been to her house?”

“Don’t you mean our house since you used to live there?”

“Uh, no. I might’ve lived there while I was in high school, but it was never my home.”

He glanced at me, and then fixed his gaze on the road. A moment passed. “The first time I had to come out to your mom’s house was with Clyde. Mona . . . she went on a bender. Got so shitfaced that we thought we were going to have to take her to the hospital.”

I winced.

“Then a couple of times when she didn’t show up for a few days and we were worried about her.” His hand had loosened on the steering wheel and now he was tapping his fingers on it. “Every other day, Clyde or Pearl would check on her just to make sure she’s doing okay.”

“And you? You would check on her, too?”

He nodded.

Biting down on my lip, I ignored the wave of muddy guilt that threatened to rise up my throat. These people, with the exception of Clyde, were virtual strangers, and here I was, family, and I wasn’t making daily, or even yearly, trips to make sure if she was alive or to find out if she’d finally overdosed. After all, I knew that was what “checking in” on her meant.

I tried to check the guilt and failed. “I’m not close with Mom. We have—”

“Calla, I figured you two weren’t close. I get it,” he cut in, tossing a reckless grin my way. And it was reckless because he had to know how powerful that half curve of his lips was and he just threw it out there, all willy-nilly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“Thanks,” I whispered before I thought about it, and then I felt stupid. All he did was nod in response.

The rest of the ride out to Mom’s house was silent, and I was surprised when he parked his truck in the driveway and followed me to the door, carrying the two sweet teas.

As I unlocked the door, I glanced up at him. “You don’t have to come in.”

“I know.” He grinned. “But I’d prefer not to eat in my truck while driving. You cool with that?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, but my head had a mind of its own. I nodded as I pushed the door open.

“Great.” Jax dipped past me and entered the house before me.

“Make yourself at home,” I murmured.

He didn’t hear me because he was moving through the house stealthily, finding the switches on the wall to the lights and flipping them on. He scanned the house with an intense, wry eye, like he expected a troll to jump out from underneath the shabby couch. When he headed for the kitchen, I followed, and when he told me he needed to use the bathroom, I placed the bag on the counter and started unloading the items.

Damn, he really had been here before because he didn’t use the bathroom downstairs. I heard his feet hit the stairs, and I wondered why he’d chosen the one upstairs, but my brain was too overworked to really give it too much thought. By the time he returned, I’d found my one hamburger among the array of food he’d gotten.

Jax pulled out a chair next to me and dropped down in it with grace. He was sitting to my right. “So.” He drew the word out as he unwrapped a chicken sandwich. “How long are you planning on being here?”

I shrugged a shoulder as I plucked the pickles off my sandwich. “Don’t know yet.”

“Probably not long, right? There isn’t shit to do around here, and with your mom out doing her thing, there aren’t many reasons to hang around.” There was a pause. “You going to eat those pickles?” When I shook my head, he helped himself to them.

I didn’t respond and I got two bites in before he spoke again.

“You in college? Shepherd?”

My hands stopped halfway to my mouth. “How did you know?”

He’d moved on to his hamburger, placing the borrowed pickles under the bun. “Clyde talks about you every once in a while. So does Mona.”

Every muscle locked up and my stomach soured. Anything that my mother had to say about me could not be good.

Silence fell between us while he removed one of the buns and folded his sandwich into a one-bun burrito. “So, what you studying?”

I dropped my half-eaten burger on its wrapper. “Nursing.”

His brows rose as he let out a low whistle. “Well, my fantasies involving nurses in little white skirts just got a whole lot richer.”

My eyes narrowed at him.

He grinned. “What made you pick nursing?”

Focusing on rolling up my discarded burger in its wrapper, I shrugged again. I knew exactly why, but the answer wasn’t easy to admit, so I changed the subject. “What about you?”

“You mean, what do I do besides bartending?” He finished off the hamburger and grabbed for the fries.

“Yeah.” I watched him. “Besides that and eating a lot.”

Jax laughed that deep, sexy laugh again. “Right now, I’m just bartending. Got my fingers in a few other things.”

He didn’t elaborate, like me, and so I didn’t push it, but that also left very little to talk about.

“Fry?”

I shook my head.

“Come on. It’s the best part of eating fast food. You can’t turn down a fry.” Those eyes of his warmed even more. “It’s pure grease, carbs, and salt. Heaven.”

My lips twitched. “You don’t look like you eat a lot of carbs.”

One broad shoulder rose. “I run every day. Hit the gym before I hit the bar. Means I eat what I want, when I want. Otherwise, life would suck if you spent half your time begrudging yourself of shit you want.”

God, did I know how super-true that was.

So I took a fry. And then two. Okay, maybe five fries before I got up to throw away our trash in a little bin that surprisingly had a fresh trash bag in it. As I washed off my hands, Jax stood and made his way over to the fridge, letting out another low whistle as he opened it up. I had no idea what he was doing. The fridge was empty with the exception of condiments.

He shut the door and propped his hip against the countertop. Taking in the buttercup-colored walls—walls that Clyde had painted before we moved in—and the scratched surface of the small round table we ate at, he drew in a deep breath and his striking face got all serious. Jaw set. Full lips thinned. Eyes deepened to a dark brown, almost mahogany.

“You’re not staying here,” he announced.

I blinked as I shifted so my right side was visible to him. “Thought we already had this conversation.”

“There’s no food in the fridge.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that.” I paused, crossing my arms. “There also wouldn’t be food at a hotel—a hotel I’d have to pay for.”

Jax angled his body toward mine, and my gaze dropped. Narrow waist and hips. Definitely a runner. “Hotels aren’t that expensive around here.”

Irritation pricked along my skin. I knew I was going to have to go to the grocery store at some point, because I did plan on staying, which meant I needed food. I also needed my car to be functional, so that was God knows how much money I’d have to spend. I knew that the longer I stayed here, the quicker I’d blow through my funds, but it was seriously my only option. I had no other place to go, at least not until school started back up in late August.

That was if I got approved for higher financial aid.

And if I didn’t?

Maybe I could get a corner in a padded room to rock in.

These were things Jax really didn’t need to know. “Thanks for taking me here and getting food. I really appreciate it, and if you could let me know who I need to contact about my windshield, that would be great. But I’m kind of tired and—”

Suddenly Jax was directly in front of me. Like one second he was by the fridge, and then the next he was right there. I sucked in a startled breath as I pressed back against the counter.

“I don’t think you’re getting what I’m saying, honey.”

Obviously not.

“Your mom is cracked. You know that.”

Okay. It was one thing for me to say my mom was screwed up. Totally another thing coming from his mouth. “Look, my mom is—”

“Not going to win any mother of the year awards? Yeah, I know that,” he said, and my fingers curled against my palms. “She’s also not going to win any boss of the year awards, either. But you probably know that already.”

“What does any of that have to do with me staying here or not?” I snapped.

“You actually don’t need to be in this town, let alone at this house.”

My mouth dropped since I wasn’t expecting that statement. “What?”

“You need to go stay in a hotel for tonight, and then as soon as your car is ready, you need to get your sweet ass on the road, which will hopefully be tomorrow afternoon, and you really don’t need to come back.”

Okay. That did it. I’d had it up to here with everything, and I didn’t care that Hot Bartender Dude was probably the sexiest guy I’d ever seen or that he was nice enough to drive me here and buy me food. Or that he thought my ass was sweet and liked my legs.

I squared off with him, forgetting everything else. “Answer me one question.”

His brown eyes locked with mine. “Done.”

My voice dripped sugary sweetness when I spoke. “Who in the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

He blinked once, and then he tipped his head back and laughed. “You got attitude. You really do. I kind of like that.”

That pissed me off even more, and besides, that was also kind of twisted. “You can leave now.”

“Not until you get what’s going on here.” Jax planted two hands on the counter, one on either side of my hips, and then he leaned in, caging me. “I need you to listen to me.”

I locked up and was unable to remember the last time a guy got this close to me.

“Calla,” he said, and I shivered at how deep and soft his voice was as it wrapped around my name. “I don’t think you realize just how far gone Mona is and what that means for everyone who knows her.”

Air halted in my lungs. “How far?”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

His eyes continued to hold mine. “This house has been party central for the last couple of years. Not the cool kind of parties anyone with two working brain cells would want to go to. Police are here on the regular. This house has basically become a drug house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you find crack pipes stashed in some of these kitchen drawers.”

Oh my God.

“The kind of people she hangs with? They are the bottom of the fucking barrel. Can’t get any lower than them. And you can’t get any shadier than them. And that’s not even the worst part.”

“It isn’t?” How could it be worse than my mom owning a crack house? I guessed a meth lab could be worse.

“She’s pissed off a lot of those shady people,” he said, and my stomach dropped to my toes. “Owes them a lot of money from what I hear, too. So does her man Rooster.”

Owes more people money? Oh God, that was bad news.

“Now I know Clyde probably doesn’t want you to know this, but I don’t think shielding you from the shit that’s going down here is the right thing to do. Mona’s got a lot of the wrong kind of folks gunning for her. The kind of people your mom is messed up with are bad news. The windshield?”

“What does any of this have to do with the windshield?”

“You came here first, right? Someone probably has an eye on this house, saw you, and decided to give you a good old-fashioned redneck warning. They may not realize yet that you’re her blood, but they know you obviously know her since you’re here. And hey, the whole windshield thing could be a fucked-up coincidence, but I doubt it. Let’s hope they don’t realize you’re blood.”

Oh, holy crap on a cracker, this was not good. My chest rose sharply as my pulse kicked up. This had veered off from crap, straight into shitville.

“Yeah, I see it’s starting to make sense,” he said softly, almost gently. “It’ll get worse from here, especially if she doesn’t come out of hiding.”

Turning my head to the left, I heard his words. They sunk in, causing a shudder to snake its way down my spine. God, a meth lab would probably be better than this.

Oh Mom, what have you gotten yourself into?

Her life, what had become of it, hurt like a real physical burst of pain, and something that I long since believed was dead sprang alive deep inside me. A need I’d suffered with for so many years, an urge and drive to fix her—to fix Mom.

Two fingers landed on my chin, gently forcing my head center. My eyes widened as they once again connected with his. “They could use you to get to her.”

My brain immediately shut down on that. The whole thing was just too much. Mom stole money from me and some crazy windshield-breaking rednecks that were hell-bent on revenge. It sounded like a plot from a movie featuring a washed-up action star.

“Honey, the best thing you could do is to turn around and leave town,” he said again, his brown eyes holding mine in a steely gaze. “There’s nothing here for you.” Jax almost sounded disappointed by that, and when my breath caught again, his gaze finally left mine, flicking down to my parted lips. His voice was deeper, rougher when he spoke again. “Nothing but trouble.”

Chapter 5

I didn’t go home the next day like Jax had ordered me to do. Not because I currently wasn’t in possession of my own car or because he had absolutely no business telling me what to do. I seriously had no choice but to stick around and . . . and do what? Track Mom down and find out just what kind of crap she’d gotten herself in, and hopefully get my money back?

The idea that there was no money left at all was something I couldn’t allow myself to think about, but at this point, it was either staying here for the summer or living in my car. Whenever I got my car back.

But it was more than that. Yeah, the money was huge, it was linked to my life, but it was also about Mom. It was always about Mom.

When Jax had left last night, he’d wanted me to leave with him, so that he could drop my “sweet ass” off at a hotel that he actually offered to pay for, but I refused, figuring the last thing I needed was to owe someone money. He’d warned that he was sending a cab.

He’d actually had the nerve to say to me, “I know you’re smarter than this, honey, so I’m going to give you forty minutes to get over yourself, and when a cab pulls up in front of your house, you’re going to get your sweet ass in it.”

What in the hell?

So when the cab pulled up and honked for a straight minute, I’d ignored it, and it had eventually driven away.

Yeah, it was kind of nice of him to offer to pay for a hotel and to send a cab, nice in a really weird and overbearing kind of way. But it was something, his domineering niceness, that I couldn’t allow myself to give a lot of thought.

I had a restless night on the couch and spent a good part of the morning going through Mom’s mess of a bedroom—and finding absolutely nothing of any use, not even a crack pipe. However, the closet did hold a few items I wished I hadn’t seen.

One was a framed photo of me when I was around eight or nine years old. The other was a trophy—about two feet tall, still shimmery and glittery. They were mementos of a past I could no longer claim.

After placing those items in the back of the closet, covering them up with old jeans, I got ready to head to the bar. I didn’t really care about how I dressed, but I took my time with the makeup, carefully blending it until the scar sloping down my cheek was less red, more pink, and almost invisible if someone was far enough away. I could leave the house wearing ratty sweats and a T-shirt full of holes, but I never left home without having the thick makeup smacked across my face. Once I was done, I called up Clyde, knowing there was only one other place where there could be any info like bank accounts or evidence of where she could’ve run off to.

He showed a little after noon, and I’d been waiting for him on the stoop. I hopped into his truck, a Ford that was a lot older than Jax’s, and buckled myself in before he could get his massive size out of the vehicle.

“Baby girl—”

“Like I said on the phone, I need to go to the bar. I wouldn’t have called you if I had my car.”

“Jax is taking care of your car.”

I wrinkled my nose as I plopped my purse in my lap. “That’s reassuring,” I muttered, which was bitchy, because even though he was a wee bit bossy, he had been helpful.

Shifting his girth around in the seat, he twisted toward me. “Baby girl,” he began again. “Are you really staying in this place?”

I sighed as I slid my sunglasses on. They were nice. Total knockoffs, but I thought I looked good in them. “In the reputed crack house? Yes. I’m not getting a hotel room.”

“Calla—”

“Jax already tried to take me to one. He even called a cab!” Even though I waved my hand around, I didn’t miss the way Clyde’s lips twitched. “Mom . . . she really screwed me over. Like bad. And I’m figuring that what she’s going through is pretty bad, too.”

Clyde pressed his lips together as he threw the truck into reverse. “It is bad.”

A breath shuddered through me. “Is it as bad as Jax told me?” There was a little part of me that was hoping that Clyde would tell me that Jax tended to exaggerate.

No such luck.

Even though I didn’t elaborate, he grunted out an affirmative. “I don’t know exactly what he said, but I’m imagining that he didn’t tell you all of it.”

I closed my eyes, just listening to the tires eat away at the road. God, what was I doing? Maybe I should’ve just gone to the hotel and headed back to school, called up Teresa—No. I stopped myself there. She and Jase had a lot of plans this summer. Traveling. Beaches. Sun and sand. I wasn’t going to mess that up by dumping my problems on her—on them. Plus there was something completely out of control about crashing on friends’ couches that I couldn’t deal with.

Minutes passed before Clyde spoke again. “This is the last thing I wanted you to do.”

I didn’t open my eyes.

“Coming back here? Well, I’ve always been real with you, baby girl, and I’m gonna keep being real with you.”

My heart lurched into my throat, and all I could think about was what Jax had said to me. That there was nothing but trouble here.

“This is the last place I wanted you to be and, well, there are things you don’t need to know about. You don’t ever need to know about, but one thing ain’t changed, and that’s you, baby girl.”

My eyes popped open.

“You’re good to the core. Always have been, no matter what shit Mona put you through, even before the fire.”

A pang lit up my chest, licking through my body, and it spread across the scar on my cheek, and washed over the other scars—the worse ones. It was like it had just been yesterday. The fire.

“But you know there ain’t no helping your mother.”

“I know that,” I whispered around a sudden knot in my throat. “That’s not why I’m here. She did me wrong, Clyde. I’m not lying.”

He spared me a quick, knowing glance. “I know that and I believe that, but I also know that you’re here, and now that you know your mom has got herself in a mess, you’re going to want to help her somehow.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“But it’s worth repeating,” he continued. “There ain’t no helping Mona. Not this time. The best you can do is get back to that school and don’t look back.”