Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) (19 page)

As he moves closer to
me, I notice that we’re stopped at Central Park. I give Jax my
what-the-heck face because I have no idea why we’re here. I also
have no idea how long we’ve been here because of course my full
attention was consumed by The God-like creature next to me. I assumed
he was taking me back to my apartment. Man, was I wrong. Maybe he
didn’t deserve that slap after all? No, he deserved it. He’s had
it coming for awhile now.

Jax smirks, gets out of
the car, and offers me his hand once he comes around to my side.
“Trust me,” he whispers into my ear before blindfolding me.

I try not to panic when
my world submerges in darkness, but my body isn’t listening to me.
I’m already sweating, my pulse beats rapidly. I’m positive I’m
about to go into heart failure any second now. I can’t seem to
breathe in enough air into my lungs. I remind myself that I’m out
in the open with Jax to ward off the full-blown panic attic that is
about to hit from memories of the car crash.

Jax
is with me. I’m safe. He won’t let anything happen to me.
Even
as I repeat the words, I have vivid flashbacks from being trapped in
the car that night. I can hear glass shattering, followed by an earth
shattering scream, then silence. The silence is the worst. My body
shakes involuntary. The memories reel me in and I lose the tiny hold
I had on staying in the present.

I
struggle to focus but something keeps blocking my view, making it
impossible to see what is going on. I attempt to wipe whatever it is
away, but my right hand isn’t working correctly. I try again and
instantly feel excruciating pain. I scream at the top of my lungs. I
struggle to use my other hand but I can’t . . . It’s stuck. I
black out.

When
I regain consciousness, whatever is gushing down my face has begun to
dry. I lick my lips and taste blood. It dawns on me what my face is
covered in. Blood . . . my blood. I know it isn’t good that I keep
blacking out, and how much blood I’ve lost. The accident comes back
full force and I’m suddenly aware of what’s happening.

The
blinding light . . .

Glass
shattering . . .

Screaming
. . .

I
turn to the right to see Hadley’s head down. She’s barely
breathing. I panic. “Hadley!” I scream.

I
want to reach her, but I can’t move. I’m trapped. The pelting of
the heavy rain is the only noise not drowned out by my screaming. I
can’t see my dad but I have a clear view of my mom. She’s hanging
forward, not moving either. Darkness takes over again before I can
scream for help again. . . .

I’m yanked back into
reality when Jax’s lips press firmly to mine. It takes a while to
kiss him back, but when my lips finally move against his, he pulls
back enough to whisper, “Stay with me. Don’t go away again,”
against my lips and then he’s kissing me again.

The memories drift
away, but continue to taunt me at the edge of the surface, never
letting me forget. Being blindfolded doesn’t help, though knowing
that Jax is here and understands helps keep the memories at bay.

“Trust me, Ads.” he
murmurs into my ear.

I think I nod but I’m
not sure. His hand grips mine. He lifts our intertwined fingers to
his lips and kisses the back of my palm. I take another deep, calming
breath, welcoming the clean air. As I breathe in, I breathe out the
smell of burnt rubber that exist only in my memory. Jax leads the way
to an unknown destination. I have a sinking feeling that he’s
taking me to my favorite place in Central Park, but I have no way of
knowing.

When I start to panic
again, he squeezes my hand, letting me know that I’m safe. I focus
on my breathing and the panic eases up. I know that we look
ridiculous because we’re barely moving and we keep stopping every
few feet so that I can catch my breath, but I don’t care. I’m
conquering a fear of lack of control because of Jax. He’s extremely
patient with me, always whispering sweet nothings into my ear to
remind me where I am. If I was with anyone else, I seriously doubt
that I would be able to do this without being trapped into the past.

As he continues to lead
me around Central Park, I finally relax. The tension in my shoulders
subsides and with each squeeze of Jax’s strong hand holding mine,
my pulse slowly returns to a much more normal pace. Being blindfolded
is still one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in awhile, but
with each step, I feel stronger for being able to relinquish control
to someone else.

Jax suddenly stops,
spins me around and whispers, “Keep your eyes closed.” He kisses
my neck and removes the blindfold.

I tell myself to count
to ten. The entire time I remind myself to be patient, to do as
directed. When I get to five, the urge to take a quick peek
overwhelms me. When I make it to seven, I shake my head, realizing
that I’m not patient, far from it. Very slowly I open my eyes and
see a very amused Jax sitting on an ocean blue blanket.

“I have to admit, I
didn’t think you had it in you to keep your eyes closed for that
long. The world must be ending.”

I ignore his comment
and focus on the scenery. He took me to my favorite spot.
He
knows me too well
. He has a blanket spread out with a
picnic basket. His socks and shoes rest on the grass near the
blanket. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear. There’s something about
seeing him so relaxed, looking at me as if he couldn’t tear his
eyes away from me even if he wanted to, that makes my stomach
flutter. Awesome, Jax has turned me into
that
girl. The girl that gets butterflies in her stomach just from a look.
As hard as I try, I can’t find a reason to not like the girl I’m
becoming when I’m with him.

I take the three small
steps to the blanket and stand over him so each leg is on the outside
of his thighs. I make a point to cross my arms over my chest. “Well,
were you just going to let me stand there all day with my eyes closed
while you sunbathed?”

Jax raises his left
eyebrow in that sexy way of his. Too quickly for me to gauge his
intentions, he sweeps his arms out and hits me behind my knees so I
fall forward on top of him. There’s something about Jax that makes
me want to hit him all the time. I sit on top of his thighs and
boldly kiss him. Jax waves his index finger back and forth in front
of my face. I pout for a whole nanosecond before he grabs my face
with both of his hands and deepens the kiss that I meant only as a
peck.

When we both pull away,
we’re breathless. My smile matches his. He draws circles on my bare
thighs while I take the time to notice everything else he brought.
Next to the picnic basket is my new camera bag and a book that’s so
damaged I can’t even read what it is, but I know it’s his
favorite,
The Giver
.
It was the last thing his mom gave him before walking out the door,
never to be heard or seen from again. He took so much effort to make
this happen and I slapped him. Why is he still here? I’m crazy with
a capital C.

“I’m sorry.” I
kiss the cheek that I slapped.

Placing his hands on my
shoulders, he drags me back so he has a clear view of my eyes. “It’s
fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“It’s FINE, Ads.
Besides, I’ve had it coming.”

“Who am I to argue
with that.” I barely have the words out of my mouth before he’s
tickling me. “Stop! Stop!” I try to squirm off him but it’s
useless. He’s too strong. “I’m gonna pee my pants!” I shout
through my laughter. He finally takes pity on me and kisses my nose.

“We couldn’t have
you peeing on me again now, can we?”

Again? He’s crazy.
I’ve never peed on anyone in my life. I ignore him and give him a
quick kiss before leaning over to peer in the picnic basket. However,
Jax quickly interrupts my attempts to eat by kissing me again. It
isn’t until my stomach growls that he stops. Jax reaches over and
unpacks our lunch with me still sitting on his lap.

After we take turns
feeding each other, Jax decides to bask in the sun. Our fingers brush
against each other as he hands me my camera bag and I feel it
everywhere. He smiles at me as if feeling the same thing. I have no
idea how a simple touch, even accidental, can set my skin on fire.
It’s always been like this for me. I’ve tried to ignore it, but
it’s always there. Even if I wanted to, I could never escape him.
He’s a part of me.

I walk a distance away
to take pictures of anything that catches my eye. I’m surprised
that I’m able to get back into it as if no time has passed. Looking
through the lens, I feel in control. I control what image I capture.
When I take a picture of a little girl running after a little boy,
I’m assaulted by memories of how I chased Jax when we younger.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Jax peacefully sleeping on the
blanket, appearing much like The God that he is. So unfair.

I sneak up to him so
that I can snap a picture of him completely relaxed. It’s amazing
to see him lying here without his usual frown. I’m lost studying
the man that I’ve always loved through the lens, when suddenly I
see nothing but darkness. Startled, I move the camera out of my face
to see Jax’s hand blocking the lens. He has an eyebrow raised in
question.

Laughing I ask, “Were
you awake the whole time?” He offers his hand to me. I take it and
sit next to him.

“Of course. I love
watching you, it’s like you’re in your own little world with this
in front of your face.” He holds up my camera, I assume to make his
point, but he starts clicking away instead.

I shield my face
because I hate getting photographed, but Jax rolls on top of me to
pin me down. Relief washes over me when he relinquishes the camera.
It’s gone just as quickly after he captures both of my hands in one
of his strong ones. He hovers over me with my hands stretched out
over me head, away from my face.

“Okay, you made your
point, Jax. You can stop now.” I speak sternly, but I’m fighting
back a smile.

Releasing my hands, he
snaps picture after picture, and continues to tickle me with his free
hand. I scream and try to wiggle out from underneath him, but it’s
useless. I’m his prisoner, powerless against him. Smiling wickedly,
he leans down to trail his nose down my throat and back up. My breath
catches. Dear God, that feels amazing.

“Jax,” I moan
quietly.

He’s gone in the next
breath, clicking pictures of me. My face burns up as I cover it with
my arm. Jax leans in, lightly bites my arm in an attempt to stop me
from shielding myself. He helps me sit up and continues taking
pictures. This time he shoots both of us. We make funny faces, me
kissing his cheek, him making me laugh, him looking at me fondly, and
one of us kissing passionately. I love that he’s captured all of
this. It somehow makes it real, I will always have the reminder of
today. The re-beginning of us . . .

His phone rings,
breaking the spell. I groan inwardly. When he sees who it is, his
entire body goes rigid, his expression darkening. I know immediately
that it’s Wyatt on the other line. That’s the only person who can
make Jax change from the happy-go-lucky person he was a second ago to
an avenging angel. As he gets to his feet, his face fills with
regret. He swipes his finger across the screen to answer and strides
over to a tree.

I want to comfort him,
to let him know that I’m here for him. I want to be here in every
way that he’s been here for me, but I can’t make my feet move.
I’m torn. Something is stopping me. I remember Jax not being here
for me when I needed him the most. Before I can put the pieces
together, the flash eludes me, as if the feeling never took place.

Needing a distraction,
I turn on my camera so I can flip through pictures while I wait for
Jax’s return. I remember my dad and I developing the first pictures
I took. The thought stirs a warm feeling inside me. I’m grateful
Jax gave me that extra push to start doing this again. The first
forty or so aren’t that special, but I still can’t seem to delete
them since they helped get me back to this point . . . to being me.
Each picture shows improvement. By the last hundred, it’s easy for
me to remember why I wanted to major in photography. When I realize
that I only have about ten left, I notice that Jax still isn’t
back.