Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) (20 page)

I put away the camera and reach for
my phone to see if Jax texted. I have nothing from Jax, only missed
texts from Logan, Connor, and Kohen. Before opening my messages, I
shoot one off to Jax.

Me:
Everything okay?

I stare at my phone, willing it to
ring with a new text, but nothing happens. I open my brother’s text
thread instead of sending Jax another message that will go
unanswered.

Logan:
Lunch noon?

Logan:
Up yet?

Logan:
It’s not normal how much you sleep.

Me:
Why did you ditch me last night?

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Logan:
Something came up. Did you get home okay?

Since I haven’t been home yet, I
keep the text as vague as possible. It’s not like I can tell him I
stayed over at Jax’s.

Me:
Still breathing c: See you tomorrow?

Logan:
Ha Ha Ha. Connor said Jax took you home so I just
wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything.

All the air whooshes out my body as
I quickly run through the night’s events in my head. I can’t
recall seeing Connor when I was leaving with Jax. Even if Connor did
notice us he wouldn’t have recognized Jax with the different mask.
Jax must have told Connor he was taking me home. Which makes sense.
If Jax didn’t say anything, that would have been suspicious. Nobody
actually knows I went home
with
Jax. With shaking fingers, I text my brother back.

Me:
Either that or I walked.

Logan:
Funny.

Me:
Thanks. I try.

I take the first relaxing breath
since I replied to him.
He
doesn’t know anything.
That would have been bad. My body
shudders. I ignore Kohen’s text and read the two I missed from
Connor.

Connor:
You alive?

Connor:
Call Logan before he comes looking for you . . .

I can’t even go a day without
Logan recruiting Connor to find out where I am. I contemplate banging
my head against a tree instead of confronting my overprotective
brother. The tree-banging seems like the less painful choice.

Me:
Already handled . . . thanks?

Without even waiting
for a response, I start packing everything up to search for Jax.
Something is clearly wrong. I’ve just finished folding the blanket
when I feel him behind me. I turn around. His face is ghostly pale,
rigid, and if the clenching of his jaw is any indication, I know he
is trying hard to stay in control. His eyes are the worst, void of
the previous happiness and now haunted by his past, by his father.

As I step towards him
to comfort him, he takes two steps back and raises his hands to stop
me from coming any closer.

“I have to go.”

And to my astonishment,
he quickly picks up the basket with the blanket on top and walks away
without another word. I stand staring, mouth agape, watching him
leave me. Again. It’s taking everything in me to keep myself from
collapsing to the ground. Somehow I find the strength to keep
standing, watching him. With every step he takes away from me, I
wonder if I’ll be enough for him. When he’s almost out of
eyesight, I know I need to fight.

For him.

For me.

For us.

After retrieving my
forgotten camera bag, I take off running after him. Last night
changed everything. I need to tell him that whatever that sick
bastard said to him doesn’t change anything, that he can lean on
me. When I finally reach him, I’m hopeful. I’m finally fighting
for the one thing I want most in this world. Jax.

“Stop. Tell me what
happened. Don’t shut me out.” I slide my hands up to his face and
force him to look at me. “We’re in this together now, Jax. Lean
on me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.” I wrap my arms
around his waist, breathing in the most intoxicating smell in the
world. Jax.

His entire body
stiffens and his arms remains at his side. I move back to gaze into
his eyes again. Almost wishing I hadn’t with how much pain I see
behind them. It’s as if I’m staring at my reflection. I reach up
to stroke his cheek again, but he flinches away as if in pain. He
isn’t here with me, he’s somewhere far away. I know the signs all
too well.

“Please talk to me,
Jax. I’m right here. Don’t shut me out,” I plead to deaf ears.

He stares straight
through me. Not knowing what else to do, I grab his face with both
hands, lean on my tiptoes, and kiss him with all the love I have.
Every agonizing second he doesn’t respond, I kiss him back harder,
unwilling to give up. A lifetime passes before I feel anything back
from him. When he tentatively strokes his tongue with mine, I nearly
sigh with relief. His hands go into my hair, pulling at the strands,
angling my face to deepen the kiss. The rest of the world floats
away. Nothing else matters. Nobody can touch us in this moment. The
passion fades and the kiss turns angry. He’s fighting this,
fighting us. He’s telling me goodbye with his lips. He tears his
mouth away from mine and leans his head against my forehead.

“I’m sorry,
Adalynn.” He didn’t use his nickname. Before he speaks again, I
know this is over. “I can’t,” he whispers.

He closes his eyes and
drops his hands from my face and walks away. I’m still struggling
to make my brain work, but I somehow manage to reach out and stop
him. He shakes his head and doesn’t turn around to face me.

“Why?”

I have no idea why I’m
even asking. I won’t get an answer and Jax isn’t one to
disappoint. His silence rings loud and clear. I can’t believe he
won’t even turn around to look at me. Last night meant nothing to
him.

Reining in my temper, I
demand in a deadly quiet voice, “Tell me Jax, I deserve to know why
you’re pushing me away, yet again.” Nothing. “At least have the
decency to look at me!” I nearly shout at him. Nothing.

I tramp around him and
grip his face to forcibly make him look at me. When he finally opens
his eyes and sees me, really sees me, I smile warmly at him.

“Nothing you can say
will change how I feel about you Jax . . . I—”

He shoves me away,
cutting me off.

“Enough, Adalynn. You
can’t fix me. You can’t even fix yourself.” Him punching me
would have hurt less. “Leave me alone. I don’t want or need you.”
Typical Jax-style, he leaves without another word, uncaring that he
just gutted me.

If this were a movie I
would chase after him again. I would show him that I won’t give up,
and he would be running towards me, too. He would tell me he didn’t
mean it and kiss me with everything he has. But this isn’t a movie
and I don’t have enough strength left in me to chase after him and
tell him I love him.
You can’t
even fix yourself.
His words drain me from any strength
that I have, making it impossible to keep standing.

It’s surprisingly
easy to convince myself to let him go, that he doesn’t feel the
same for me. With my head down, I leave Central Park. Each step I
take away from him, I promise myself I need to let go of this fantasy
I’ve had of us together. I’m nothing to him.

Two weeks later I’m
half expecting Jax to show up at the bakery. Each time the bell
chimes upon someone’s arrival and it’s not him, it becomes
increasingly clear that Jax is continuing to push me away. I kept
telling myself he needed time and then we could go back to normal,
and a tiny part of me hoped we could go back to being more. I replay
the night of the ball on a continuous wheel in my head.

Every time I see him in
passing, he avoids me. I finally force myself to stop trying to talk
to him when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to respond to
any of my text messages or calls. I wanted to scream at the top of my
lungs when I met the guys for dinner the other night, and as soon as
I sat down, Jax made an excuse to leave. He shouldn’t have bothered
showing up, it’s our weekly dinner. Of course I’m going to be
there.
I need to move on.
That
mantra is easier said than done.

I’m trying
desperately to concentrate on booking a pirate-themed birthday cake
for a customer, but I keep losing focus. I really need to pay
attention to her, but I can’t. She changes her mind every single
time I’m almost done with the paperwork. My temper starts to
awaken. I honestly don’t know how many times I’ve crossed
everything out because she’s changed her mind. Ha, someone changing
their mind on me. The irony is not lost on me.

I’m contemplating how
illegal it is to poke her in the eye with my pen, or if it would be
better to stab myself with my own pen, when a deep voice saves me
from doing something extreme. I want to feign happiness at seeing
Kohen, but I can’t. Jax has ruined even the simple act of masking
my emotions, like he’s ruined me.

Despite my
indifference, Kohen in scrubs is a sight to behold. He has an amused
expression and it takes me a second to realize what’s so funny. At
first I think it’s because he heard the customer, whose name I keep
forgetting, but then it becomes apparent why he’s standing here
pleased with himself. He asked me something.
Crap
. . . Think . . . Think . . .

The girl glances up
when she notices she doesn’t have my undivided attention any longer
and gasps loudly as she takes Kohen in. Yeah, who can blame her? It’s
pretty hilarious to watch her whole demeanor change. The bitchy side
of her disappears and she’s giving him a look that I can only
describe as the come-fuck-me look. It’s a look I have become very
aware of from women when I’m with the guys. I have to turn away to
keep from laughing in her face. Honestly, does she not have class?

When I face them again,
she’s narrowing her eyes at me. Okay maybe my coughing didn’t
cover up my laugh like I thought. Whoops. I don’t even feel a
little guilty. I peer at the form to see that her name is Amanda.
Ah,
that’s what it is.
Kohen beams at me and it makes me
smile my first real smile all week. Well, the second if I’m being
honest. The first was when I saw Jax sitting with the guys in the
restaurant. I give Kohen the universal sign for five minutes before I
try unsuccessfully to rush Amanda. I could always ask someone from
the back to help Kohen, but I have a feeling that he would just wait
for me anyway.

It’s the longest ten
minutes of my life before Amanda is on her way out the door, but not
before she tries again to get Kohen’s attention. She pouts when he
shows no interest in her. A laugh slips out of my mouth. I’ll make
sure to remain in the back when she picks up her cake in a few days.
The bell chimes, signaling Amanda’s departure. I turn to find Kohen
standing in front of me, leaning over the counter. My surprised gasp
makes him smile.

“Hi . . . ?” I ask
because I have no idea why he’s here.

I haven’t talked to
him since our date, nor have I responded to his text messages. I’ve
just deleted them without reading. I wouldn’t say I was ignoring
him per se, I was just hoping things with Jax would turn out
differently and I didn’t want to lead on Kohen if I pursued things
with Jax. But now seeing him in front of me, looking way too good in
his scrubs, I’m wondering why I didn’t seek him out. He’s
exactly the kind of distraction I need in my life. And it’s pretty
clear that he likes me so that’s a plus. I definitely don’t need
someone who’s going to play the hot and cold game with me, I get
enough of that from The God.

“Okay, feel free to
turn me down.” Kohen pauses to see if I’m going to stop him, but
when I don’t say anything, he continues. “I was hoping I could
talk you into a quick lunch, but I have to get back to the hospital
now, so how about dinner tonight? Anywhere you want, just text me the
location, let’s say seven?”

Before I can say
anything, he gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. He walks out of the
bakery, leaving me with my fingers touching my lips, fighting the
urge to throw up. Why do I feel like I’ve betrayed Jax by letting
him kiss me? It infuriates me to even think that. Seeing Kohen might
be exactly what I need to get over Jax.

Hmmm . . . A little
cocky assuming I’m just going to say yes. Well, it’s a good thing
I’m having dinner at Connor’s tonight after therapy. Hopefully
Kohen’s ready for another dinner date with the boys because that’s
what he’s getting, sans Jax, of course, since apparently having
dinner with me is so appalling. At least someone wants to have dinner
with my winning personality. I idly wonder if I should let Kohen know
we’ll be having company, but dismiss that idea. He’s the one that
assumed I didn’t have plans so he can suffer through dinner with my
overprotective brother and Connor. I text Kohen to meet me at the
coffee place around the corner from Connor’s.

When I step outside
into the humid air, I see two cars waiting for me. Logan’s and
Connor’s.
Because driving one
car is so difficult.
I’ve never understood driving in
New York, especially when they have drivers. You never know when the
guys will have a driver. As far as I can tell, their current mood
dictates being behind the wheel. Which is strange when I think about
it because sometimes I get the impression that Logan fears being
behind the wheel because of what happened to our family.