Page 81 of Fighting for His Life

I climb out of the car to make my phone call. Zane picks up on the first ring. “Zoey, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come get me?” I ask, my voice breaking just a little.

“Yeah, but why? I thought you were going to stay with Jax.”

I walk further away from the car and whisper. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Zee. I’m pretty sure he just brought me here because he feels guilty.”

“Zoey, Jax wants you there. He loves you.”

“I know he does, but I don’t think he’s in love with me anymore,” I sniffle. “I can’t blame him. Look at what I’ve done.”

“Zoey, Jax loves you more than he ever has. You're just feeling overwhelmed, but I can be there in fifteen minutes,” he sighs.

I feel a set of arms wrap around me from behind. He pulls the phone from my hand. “I’ve got this, Zane,” he says then ends the call. He turns me to face him, cupping my face in his hands. “I said you didn’t have to stay because you thought that’s what I wanted.”

“I know,” I say softly. “That’s why I called Zane because you don’t want me here.”

He looks at me with sad eyes his head shaking just a little. “That’s not what I meant, baby. I don’t want you to think you have to stay here if you don’t want to. I don’t want to rush you into something you’re not ready for.”

A tear I’d been holding falls down my cheek. “You’re the only reason I come back, Jax. Why wouldn’t I want to be here with you?”

Relief washes through him as he places a kiss to my forehead. “Then how about you come see your new home.”

Zoey

We exit the elevator on the fifteenth floor into a luxurious penthouse apartment. The beautiful hardwood floors flow throughout the open floor plan giving way to a beautifully spacious living room decorating with large, overstuff sofas on each side. Floor to ceiling windows adorn the far wall looking out over the river with the city skyline lighting up the night. The enormous kitchen has an island with beautiful granite countertops are a warm brown with beautiful flecks of gold and pink veining lined with tall wrought iron stools with beige seats. There’s a dining room a little off the kitchen with a square, high-top glass table and the same wrought iron chair lining each side. I see a hallway that leads toward, what I assume to be a bedroom. There’s a staircase in the middle that leads up to more rooms and a huge open loft with more floor to ceiling windows and a skylight.

Everything about the space screams luxury but also warmth. None this is Jax’s style. It’s mine.

And I am so sick of tears, but they keep coming. At least, these aren’t sad tears. “What do you think?” he whispers beside me.

“It’s perfect,” is the only thing I can think of to say.

“You have no idea how nervous I was about this place. I wanted to find a place perfect for you.”

I turn to him in surprise. “Jax, you didn’t have to do this. The apartment we picked out before would’ve been fine. I don’t need all of this.”

I see him cringe a little. “Zoey, I wasn’t bringing you home to a place where I fucked anyone else. I even bought new damn furniture. I didn’t want you anywhere near that.”

I try to stop my own wincing at his words but, judging by the look on his face, I don’t do a good job. I don’t want to think about Jax with another woman. Just like I don’t want him to think about me with any other man.

But I do push it all aside. Because the truth is, it doesn’t matter. His sexual conquests didn’t matter to me five years ago. It can’t matter now because anything he’s done in the last year is a direct result of my actions and choices. I step closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “None of this was necessary, Jax. I don’t have a right to be upset about anything you did or anyone you were with. I don’t even have a right to be here right now, but I am so thankful that I am. That you still, by some miracle, love me.”

He pulls me closer to him, placing a kiss to my lips. “That’s not a miracle, Angel. It’s who I am. What I am. Now, how about a quick tour of your new home.”

He has me swooning. He’s always had that ability, but I was afraid I’d lost those emotions. I’m glad to see that I haven’t.

He leads me through the apartment showing me a master bedroom and bathroom that I swear are the size of the kitchen, living, and dining room combines. He shows me the two additional upstairs bedrooms each with their own en suite. Then he shows me the empty loft with a big, goofy grin. Apparently, this loft is a big deal to him, but he doesn’t explain. Instead, he’s waiting on me to figure it out. When I don’t, he rolls his eyes with exaggeration. “This is why I wanted this place for you, Zoey. So, you can paint or draw or whatever you want here with all the natural light any apartment in this city has to offer.”

My eyes mist – again. I swear I’ve turned into a faucet since the first tear fell weeks ago. I give him a soft, gentle kiss putting in every thanks I have.

“I’m going to stop these one day,” he says wiping under one eye.

“It’s okay,” I laugh. “These are happy tears. I haven’t had any of those for over a year until today.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, Angel,” he rasps burying his face in my hair.

Then suddenly he sweeps me up into his arms. I let out a squeal as he walks us back downstairs. He sits me on the couch placing a kiss to the top of my head. “Stay here,” he orders.

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