Page 17 of Stay with Me

“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 meanourhouse 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 was 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, wary 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.

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