Page 21 of Kiss Marry Kill
Didn’t get hurt? Did Jax get hurt? She wanted to ask him, but at the same time she didn’t want to pry. But . . .
“Jax, though . . .”
“I know what you’re going to say, but give him some slack. He’s had it rough.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” She turned her body to face Joey, wanting to absorb any information he had to give her about Jax.
“Nothing that doesn’t happen to a shit ton of servicemen. The short of it is, lots of men died and he was hurt; lucky to have survived. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”
She needed more. “He looks sad, Joey. So hardened.”
They pulled up to the house and he turned to her. “During the last year, Jax has been . . . not himself. After a few drinks when he would loosen up, he did talk about you, though.”
“He did?” She perked up, wanting to know, grabbing any morsel of information he was willing to share. She’d talked about him to Nelly and Taylor too, especially that first year. She always wondered if he regretted those days they spent together. Or the way they parted ways. Did he like her music? Did he know what Promise Me was about? “He really had no idea about TNT?”
“Yes. ‘I wonder what Megan is doing,’ or, ‘You think Meg ended up a lawyer?’ Shit like that. We didn’t really watch a lot of TV in the desert or hear pop music, so no, he really didn’t know. Neither did I.”
“Oh, well, wow,” she said, feeling a little better about things. It would’ve been exponentially worse if he’d known about her, known where to find her, and had chosen to stay away. She looked down at her purse, zipping and unzipping it repeatedly. “I thought about him too. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again. It was very surpr—Oh my god!”
Megan screamed when she looked up to her house. “Oh. My. God!” She opened the car door and slammed it shut. “Jackson Iron!” Megan yelled at the top of her lungs. “Where are all my trees?”
No! No! No! This was not happening.
It had to be a dream. Her months of dedication to her yard hadn’t been ripped out in a matter of hours. The peace it had given her to map out where every single tree, flower, and topiary would go, and then, with her own bare hands, help plant them, tend to them, and watch them grow. All her planning and hard work . . . no no no.
Joey stood by his car laughing his ass off. “Do you find this funny?” She narrowed her eyes at Joey, pointing at the construction crew on her front lawn.
“A little,” Joey admitted as he walked past her to the full crew of men ripping a huge palm trees out of the earth.
“Is that . . .” she sputtered the words in disbelief, “a . . . is that a bulldozer?’
“I believe it’s called a backhoe, babe.” Joey looked like he wanted to laugh again, but the glare she gave him was enough to effectively shut him up and send him off to look for Jax.
The man had lost his damn mind! How could he have thought this would be okay? Just moments ago they’d spoken and he’d promised to run things by her first.
Stomping to the front of her house, Megan climbed the grand keystone stairway, taking two steps at a time. She turned to the crew, fists clenched. “Stop! Stop it!” Some of them stopped immediately. Some ignored her, and others didn’t hear her over the noise of all the heavy equipment. “Stop immediately!” she yelled again, stomping her foot, at the very moment that Jax came through the front door.
“What are you doing?” he asked, clueless.
“What am I doing?” She looked around and swept her arm to the crew of workers destroying her property. “What the hell are you doing?”
He had his arms crossed over his chest like some sort of impenetrable statue. Well, she wasn’t scared of him. Right now he should be scared of her! “I’m ensuring your safety,” he said. “You told me to make you safe.”
“By destroying all my landscaping? Setting aside the fortune it cost, it took years to get it this way. Years! I loved it! I picked out every single goddamn frangipani and bougainvillea. Oh my god, my mango tree—” She stomped down the stairs toward the big hole that used to house a mango tree.
“Calm down.”
Calm down? Was he crazy?
She whipped her head around and poked him with her index finger. “Do not tell me to calm down!” All the workers were looking at them, awaiting instructions, but she couldn’t care less. She was furious and distraught. “You’re all fired!” Then she turned to Jax, fighting back tears. “Especially you.”
“Why don’t you guys take a break?” Jax said. He followed her inside the house seeming equally angry. Why was he mad?
“Now, babe, you need security. The shit with Ryan is serious.”
Megan bristled. “Don’t you think I know that? And don’t call me babe,” she hissed, her hands clenched by her sides. He was being condescending now, and she didn’t appreciate it. He wanted to call her babe when he saw her in the morning or when she brought him a glass of water? Okay, those were all babe-worthy moments. “Good morning, babe.” Or, “Thank you for the water, babe.” Fine. But babeing when he was pissed . . . no way. That got right under her skin. “This is messed up, Jax. You destroyed my yard.” She shoved him out of the way and started into the house but he grabbed her forearm and stopped her.
“Maybe I went overboard, but it came from a good place. I want you to be safe, Meg.” When he called her Meg and spoke in that soft tone, she could see the guy from all those years back shining through. She looked over her shoulder and then back at him, her lips quivered. She was trying her hardest to contain her tears. Being angry was easier than feeling nostalgic, which is what happened when he called her Meg and said nice things to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.
