Page 132 of Stay with Me

“You had to bite a person. You had your mouth on some fucker’s skin and bit down to defend yourself. How in the fuck does that make you okay?”

“When you put it that way? I’m not sure.”

His jaw worked as he walked forward and knelt in front of me. “I promised you that you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Jax—”

“And you did.” His hands curled around the back of my knees and he tugged them apart as he leaned in. He was staring at my arm, and my gaze followed his. There was a bruise there, too. “I’m not okay with that. Fucks with my head—just the thought of what if. I’ve been down that road before.”

I didn’t get what he was saying at first, and when I did, I shook my head. “This isn’t like with your sister.”

Jax said nothing.

“You know that, right? I’m not your responsibility. Not like that,” I insisted. “And neither was Jena.”

He looked away, jaw clenched.

“Even if you were—”

“Calla,” he warned.

I ignored him. “Even if you were home, Jax, there would’ve been no what-ifs involved.”

“Just ... just drop it.”

“No.” I was not backing down from this. “She would’ve overdosed if you were in the room next to her. You being there wouldn’t have changed the outcome. One way or another, she would’ve found a way.”

His gaze swung back to mine. “How do you know that?”

“Because Ilivedthrough it, too.” I held his gaze. “There was nothing I could do to alter Mom’s path and I tried. I tried a million times. You know deep down it would’ve been the same with your sister.”

Several moments passed, and then a deep sigh shuddered out of him. “I don’t know. Calla. That’s ... yeah, that’s hard to really accept.”

“I know.” Oh God, did I ever know, and I also knew there wasn’t much I could say to really change whatever guilt Jax harbored. That was something that would take a lot of time, and he’d have to find that in himself.

“I think you need to stay here for a few days,” he said after a moment.

My brows pinched. “I’m already staying here, aren’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant, babe.” His fingers brushed over the finger marks above my elbow. “Stay out of the bar until ... well, until this dies down.”

“What?” I pulled my arm away, and his chin lifted, eyes back to mine. “I’m not hiding in this townhouse or anywhere. And it’s not because I don’t realize what’s going on, but I need the money.”

His hands curled around the back of my knees again. “Calla ...”

“I seriously need the money. Over a hundred thousand in debt, Jax. I’m not making a crap ton of money, but I’m making something. I can’t afford to chill out in the Jax Relocation Program.”

His lips twitched “Jax Relocation Program?”

My eyes narrowed.

He chuckled and some, not all, of the anger eased out of his expression. “I like the sound of this program.”

“I’m sure you do,” I retorted dryly. “I just ... I need to be more careful, more aware of my surroundings and stuff. I mean, I’m sure Mo didn’t look too harmless in the bar. I need to pay more attention.”

“So did I,” he agreed firmly.

I started to deny it but figured there was no point. Some of the hardness was still in his face and I remembered the near-murderous fury in his eyes when we’d been at the bar.

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