“Aren’t you going to hug me?” She spans her arms to her side.
Jax refuses to budge. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Her gaze is shifty, her body twitchy, like she’s either afraid or on something—maybe both. “What, I can’t stop by to see my son?”
“Stop by to see your son?” Jas states incredulously. “You’re the one who called me saying some guy named Marcus was going to kill you.”
She plucks the cigarette from her dry lips, and a cloud of smoke circles her face. “Is that why you came here, to check up on me?”
“I thought you were dead,” Jax snaps in the harshest tone I’ve ever heard him use. “Aunt Julie thinks you’re dead, too.”
She rolls her eyes melodramatically. “Your Aunt Julie is overdramatic.”
“So are you, apparently.” He waves his hand in her direction. “Because here you are, clearly fine.”
She pops the end of the cigarette into her mouth.
I don’t know how, but I have a feeling she’s about to say something seriously messed up. Perhaps because of her soulless expression.
“I lied,” she divulges as she puffs smoke in Jax’s face. “I staged the whole call so you’d come out here looking for me. I knew there was no way in hell you’d come for the real reason. I would have probably tracked you down sooner, but my phone’s been disconnected for a while… I wasn’t even sure you were here yet, but I ran into Melinda and sure enough, she said my cute little Jax was here looking for me. You were always so good about that.”
Rage shockwaves through his body as he lets out a sequence of curse words. Then he spins to the side and bashes his fist into the wall, startling the living daylights out of me. I’ve never, ever seen him so angry. I just want to hold him and tell him everything will be all right, even though I don’t know if it will.
“Jax.” I try to soothe him as he punches the wall again and his knuckles split open. “Just calm down.”
The anger in his eyes simmers a notch when he sees me staring at him in horror.
I’m sorry, he mouths before he slowly turns to his mother, cradling his injured hand against his chest. “I fucking knew it. I knew there was probably more to that call. Yet, I came here like a sucker.”
“You always did care too much,” she agrees, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “And trust is your biggest fault.” She gives me a look, as if she’s warning me to be on the lookout for those traits in Jax, as if being caring and trusting is the worst thing in the world.
“What do you want?” Jax growls before she can say anything else.
She puffs on her cigarette. “A thousand dollars.”
A condescending laugh rings from Jax’s lips and echoes around us. “Are you being fucking serious right now? Or are you just high?”
Smoke snakes from her lips. “If I don’t get it, I’ll—”
“Be in trouble with Marcus,” Jax finishes hollowly.
“How do you know about Marcus?” She grazes her thumb along the bottom of her cigarette, scattering ashes across the ground.
“We met him while we were looking for you.” He flexes his injured fingers. “He said you owe him a thousand dollars and to remind you he isn’t a very patient man.”
“See, this is why I need your help.” She scratches at the back of her neck. “Time is running out.”
“I don’t get why you think I can help you, though.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “I don’t have a thousand fucking dollars. I spent everything I did have saved up on this goddamn trip.”
“You have no money at all?” she questions, skeptically eyeing him over. “Like zero dollars?
“Nope. I’m flat broke.” He seems proud to be telling her this, that he honestly can’t give her money. “Guess your little charade was all for nothing.”
“Then how are you getting home? I mean, you gotta pay for gas…” She sticks out her hand to him. “Gimme some of that.”
Is this woman for real? Seriously, what the hell? My mother, who brought a rooster home, doesn’t come off near as crazy as the woman standing in front of me right now.
“I’m paying for the gas,” I say, a conniving smile reaching my lips when she directs her attention to me.
Her eyes narrow to slits and places her hands on her hips. “And you are?”
“Jax’s girlfriend and the person who’s not going to give you the gas money,” I explain with sugary sweetness dripping from my voice.
She glares at me. “What gives you the right to speak to me that way?”
I shrug. “I’ll speak to you any way I like. I don’t know you.”
“And yet you judge me,” she retorts with disdain.
“It’s kind of hard not to when you’ve made it pretty clear you’re the shittiest mother on the planet.”
She drops the cigarette to the ground and stalks toward me. “You little—”
Jax pushes her, and she trips into the door. “Don’t fucking put a hand on her,” he warns.
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother,” she fumes, her chest heaving with rage as she works to regain her balance.
“Maybe by blood,” Jax replies, sounding calmer, “but nothing more.”
She opens her mouth to disagree, but then decides against it and snaps her jaw shut. Then she fishes a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lights up another one. “You really don’t have any money?”