Page 21 of Roots of the Wicked

Chapter Eleven

Chase

It had been three long days since I had seen Jax. She hadn’t made any effort to contact me, and I knew that she wouldn’t. One of the first things she told me was that she liked being in control. So did I. The fact that I had taken that control away from her in that bathroom now resonated.

She would hear the lie in any apology I made because I wasn’t sorry. I would do it again. My vibrating phone pulled me out of my thoughts. I was unable to suppress my smile when I noticed it was my mother calling.

I lifted my phone to my ear, and relaxed as I sat in the back of my car, in route to meet my friends for lunch. We had been planning a get together for a month and had finally carved out the time to meet.

“Mom.”

Whether on the phone, or in person, Sadie Montgomery always brought a smile to my face.

“Hi Son. How has life been treating you?” My life had been spiced up the moment I met Jax.

“I’m doing well. About to meet Landon and Ethan for lunch. Working hard and attempting to stay under the radar. Enough about me, how’s London treating you?”

“Magnificent. I’m having such a good time, I’m thinking of staying longer. I met a group of American women in my age group who are staying for three months, and they have made my time here unforgettable. We did all of the normal tours, saw Big Ben, the Tower of London, and Buckingham Palace. But things got really interesting when they dragged me into a club.”

“You, in a club?”

She chuckled. “My first thought was to flee, but they catered to a forty and up crowd. After a few drinks, I let my hair down, relaxed and just had fun. I even danced to Lil Nas X’s, Old Town Road.”

My hardy chuckle livened up the interior of my car, happy that she was enjoying herself. After my mother divorced my father over a decade ago, she used her settlement to travel. Each time she returned from her travels, she stayed with me, an arrangement I thoroughly enjoyed. Our roles had reversed in a way as each of my homes had a room for my mom.

“You sound happy. I’m glad to hear that you’re having fun. However, the next time you think about clubbing, you need to call me for permission first.”

She burst into a fit of laughter.

“How’s everyone?” she asked, laughter still in her tone. She had never spoken ill of my father, but his cheating and controlling ways had driven her away.

“Everyone is as good as you’d expect them to be. Dad’s still in physical therapy. Blake’s still angry at the world.”

My family was not a close knit one. My mother’s only sister Carol, had died when I was a teenager. The days I got along with my brother Blake were few and far between.

My father and I were just now starting to build a relationship. He had two brothers, my uncles that I had only met twice. One, Uncle Bruce, sold drugs. The other, Uncle Rich, abused drugs. The hate between the brothers ran deep, pointing at a chaotic history they remained tight-lipped about.

“I hate to say it, but your brother hasn’t hit rock bottom yet. His rock bottom. When he does, he’ll have to make the tough decision to pick himself up. Otherwise, we are going to have to intervene on his behalf.”

“I agree, even if we have to force help on him.”

We sat with a moment of silence on both ends. Blake was always tough subject for us.

“I saw your latest photos and interview from the tech expo,” my mother said. “You looked good son. Your date was a pretty girl, but I could clearly see she doesn’t make you happy. You two smiled in those photos together, but I could see it on your face, your mind was light years away. I made the offer before, and I’ll make it again. All you have to do is accept it.”

I grinned.

“Mom, I don’t want you picking out women for me. I will have you know that I may have found someone. I really like her, but I think I may have messed up.”

“What’s her name? And, what did you do?” She asked.

“Jax Saint-Pierre. She specifically told me what she didn’t want. Me pursuing her was one, and I went and impulsively did a second thing that she told me not to.”

“You were too aggressive with her, and you’re not sorry about it. But, you really like this one, so you’re reflecting on your behavior with her.” Her tone was matter of fact.

The vehicle started to slow, alerting that were arriving at the restaurant. The paparazzi that had been following us were out of their cars and staging themselves at the entrance to the restaurant, waiting for me. One stood outside my window, the dark tint keeping him from spotting where I sat inside the car.

“Mom, how could you possibly know my current situation so well?”

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