Page 5 of Kiss Marry Kill
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Jackson Irons was in her bedroom.
Megan could barely believe it.
If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with the events of the night, she’d have thought it was a hallucination, her terrified mind conjuring up the one memory that always made her feel happy and safe. Except it was real—he was there. Touching her, comforting her, even taking control. And she needed that. God, did she ever. She was so shaken up, she didn’t even know where to start or what to do.
Ironically, though, while he’d been holding her, she’d almost—almost—forgotten about the stalker, so consumed she was with the familiar smell and feel of the man she hadn’t seen in so damn long. It had taken her a moment to even realize it was him, he was so wide and intimidating now, and those once-soft green eyes looked hardened and threatening—even if he was trying to keep it under control for her sake. The lean, clean-shaven, all-American guy she’d once known had transformed into a scruffy man with a full mountain-man blondish beard, hair down to his shoulders, twenty pounds of new muscles, and a twitch in his jaw.
He was treating her as if she was the most fragile thing in the world. As if her fear shook him to his core. But then he’d noticed she was only wearing a shirt and she thought she’d die of mortification. Even if her feminine pride soared with the look of desire and possessiveness that had helped lighten the mood just enough for her to get through the next few hours of reliving the horrible experience.
But all of that had changed again in a second when her mother had opened her big fat Cuban mouth. The woman, who Megan had to constantly remind herself she loved, was like a damn needle pricking the metaphorical balloon and letting all the happiness seep right out. You could practically hear the hissing. All the air left the room, and Jax’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched at his side as her mom began to give her uninvited opinions.
A minute ago he’d held her until she had run out of tears, being her anchor in a storm. He had been protective and consoling, but now? Now he looked murderous. She had so many questions to ask him she didn’t even know where to start, not with everything else that had happened in the last two hours.
“Well, can you at least tell me if you’re okay?” Her mother Rose asked, holding her at arm’s length, checking for injuries. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether her mother loved her. Megan knew that deep down she did. But she had a strange way of showing it. Her concern normally came masked in criticism and she was the queen of backhanded compliments. Even though she loved her mother, she could only take her in measured doses.
“Did he hurt you?” Nelly Leon, the drummer of TNT and one of her best friends, asked, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Nelly, TNT’s mother hen and worrywart, had a soft and sweet look to her that made you want to comfort her, even if you were the one in need of comforting. Except when she was on stage. On stage she was a beast on the drums. She had an intensity in her eyes and a strength in her skills that made her one of the fiercest drummers of her generation.
“I think I’m okay. Just shaken up—” Megan began. She was cut off when Jax pulled her away.
“Of course she’s shaken up. There was a murder—” Jesus Christ. Her mother had zero comforting skills.
“Sorry to break this up but you need to get moving. The cops are waiting. Tears later.” His voice was harsh, but his touch on her wrist was soft as he glared at Rose. He didn’t seem like the guy who stole her heart five years ago. The carefree dude who liked to hang out and fish, the guy who’d tested all her boundaries and made her question all her decisions within hours of meeting him. This man standing in front of her was hardened. If not for the fact that he’d held her tenderly just minutes earlier, she would have called him robotic and cold.
Rose and Nelly eyed Jax but he didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. Instead he pulled Megan out of the room and began to snap at the nearby men, Megan too consumed by a myriad of emotions to react. “Martinez, she’s ready. In the kitchen. One man, tops. I want a full brief of the situation as soon as she’s done.”
“We can discuss while she gives her statement.” Martinez said.
“No. I stay with her.” Jax’s voice was firm, no-nonsense, and he turned to Megan. “Kitchen?”
Was that a question?
Megan shook her head in confusion. “Uh . . . downstairs to the right.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her down the stairs. Back then, he’d held her hand a lot, it was one of the things that she loved about him. He had been so affectionate, and that was something that had always been missing in her life. Right now, his touch helped clear some of the chaos from her mind. The new Jax was clearly rougher around the edges, but there was no denying that his touch still soothed her, gave her strength and confidence when she was feeling scared and defeated. The circumstances back then may have been different, but the feelings he drew out of her were the same. She’d felt helpless back then, but by the time he’d walked out of her life she felt secure and confident.
“Wait,” her mother called from behind her. “I’ll stay with her. I’m an attorney.”
Jax squared his shoulders, his grip tightening on Megan’s hand when he faced her mother and his face set in a calm mask that didn’t invite questions. “She doesn’t need an attorney. She needs to tell the officers what happened and she needs to do so right now.” And then added, so faint only Megan could hear. “Some motherly compassion would’ve been nice too.”
“I’m her moth—”
“Mother, it’s okay. Please just let me get this over with.” Megan turned to Nelly. “Nell, can you and my mom please go check on the officers in my room. All my dresses are scattered all over my closet, and I’d like them not to get ruined.”
“Oh, the Gucci,” Nell said, seemingly heartbroken. If it wasn’t for the dire situation at hand, Nelly’s distraught reaction to the dresses, which Megan couldn’t care less about, would have been comical. “Come on, Rose, let’s go help upstairs.”
“Fine,” Rose huffed, knowing full well Megan was trying to get rid of her, and followed Nelly back upstairs while Megan and Jax headed to the kitchen.
Jax pulled out a chair for her. After she sat, he crossed his arms over his chest and stayed beside her, standing there like an aggravated and on-edge wall of muscles. Anger, frustration, and impatience oozed off him, and she missed his touch almost immediately.
Everything was a blur, things happening too fast. Her mind had yet to catch up—still trying to process the fact that one second she was almost killed and the next Jax was there. Jax, who seemed to have materialized from nowhere after so long. It was all too much. She was trying to compose herself, closing her eyes and counting to ten, when a police officer walked into the room. All she wanted was that strength back, that anchor, and if he wasn’t so closed-off right now, she’d reach up and grab Jax’s hand. Now she felt alone and scared all over again. She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed a man, but Jax wasn’t just any man. He was the man. The one she’d always compared other men to.
“Megan,” Jax prompted her, nudging her shoulder lightly. She looked up at him, his face expressionless, and the beard did nothing to soothe things. In fact, it made him seem that much more impassive.
“Oh, uh, sorry, what did you say?” she asked the officer, embarrassment causing her to blush. She’d been caught staring at Jax and wondering what she could do to shake some emotion out of him. Something less soldier, and something more . . . she almost thought “boyfriend.” But he had never been her boyfriend. And this time was no different. She needed to rid herself of her unrealistic fantasies and focus on the current crappy situation she was in. She needed to remember he was only there because she’d been in danger—otherwise, she would never have seen him again.
And that thought was sobering.
Sitting up straighter, her hands laced together in her lap, she turned her attention to the cop.
