Page 34 of Beneath the Hood

My phone vibrates on the end table, my mom’s number flashing on the screen, and I move to the kitchen before I answer. Far enough away to not wake Blakely, but close enough where she’s still in my line of sight, because for some reason the thought of leaving her alone makes my chest ache.

“Hey, Mom. How’s life?” I ask in a low voice.

She chuckles down the line. “My life is the same as always, honey. How areyoudoing? How’s California? Still loving your job?”

Homesickness churns in my gut. I miss being close to her, being able to see her at the end of every day, so I can make sure she’s okay. Not that she’s ever needed someone to lean on. Samantha Rhoades is the definition of independent. Stubborn in her ways and strong in her beliefs, which is why she won’t let me take care of her even though now I can afford it.

She says she likes to stay busy, but I think she just doesn’t know how to be alone with her thoughts.

“I talked about Dad today,” I spout.

“Oh?” Her voice quivers.

She doesn’t like to bring him up. But she goes to therapy and she buries herself in her work and that’s all that I can really ask of her at the end of the day. She deals with her traumas the best way she knows how, the same as the rest of us. But still, it hurts when I try to speak about him and feel as though I can’t. When I worry that she’s going to shut down and the conversation will be ruined.

“Yeah... It felt good to have someone who wanted to hear about him, you know?” I pause, running my hand through my tangled hair. “I’m not used to that.”

She hums but doesn’t respond.

My heart sinks, disappointment pressing on my chest. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. When are you coming out to Cali?” My eyes flick to the living room, an eager type of energy zapping at my nerves and spreading through me when I think about my mom meeting Blakely.

And then shock punches me in the gut, my breath whooshing out of me at how natural it felt to think that. How clear the image was of the two of them together.

Why would she meet her?

She laughs. “Oh, Jax, honey, you know how I feel about planes. I’ll just see you when you come back home to visit.”

“Well, Mom,” I huff, irritation burning between my ribs. “I don’t know when that’s gonna happen.”

My fingers wrap around my necklace, the metal balls of the chain indenting into my skin and grounding me. Honestly, the entire reason for moving here was for the space it would grant me. So I could gain some perspective.

And even though it’s only been a few weeks, I already sense the shift of my thoughts and I’d be lying if I said a huge reason for that isn’t Blakely. How these…feelingshave suddenly sprouted inside of me, I have no idea. I’ve been convinced my heart was too bruised to feel. All I know is that when I’m around Blakely—when it’s just the two of us—she’s so much more than what I was expecting.

And that makes me want to stick around.

17

Blakely

My arms reach above my head and I relish in the delicious pull of my muscles being stretched. I feel surprisingly well rested and as I rub the sleep from my eyes the room comes into focus and I realize exactly where I am.

It’s not where I’m supposed to be.

Springing up from Jackson’s couch, I grab my phone, my stomach sinking when I see it’s eight p.m.

Shit.

Scrolling past the twenty missed calls and dozens of text messages from Sierra, my mind races, guilt over falling asleep and missing the shootagainraging through me.

Nausea curdles my stomach when I think about how often I’ve dropped the ball in the past week. But behind the rolling of my gut there’s an urge to just turn off my phone and stay where I am, because I know I’ll be expected to give up this newfound freedom. I won’t be able to sink into the calm that Jackson provides, experiencing things with a safety net, knowing someone will be there to help me when I break.

But it’s been nice, being able to relax and just... pretend to be normal. Even for a little bit.

Looking around, I search for Jackson, but the room is quiet. With a deep breath, I call Sierra. She picks up on the second ring.

“Where thehellhave you been?”

My stomach cramps at her tone and I know this conversation is about to be a shot of reality, burning me on the way down.

---