Page 97 of Trustfall

“Please, Jax,” I say using my old nickname for him. I haven’t called him that in years. Not since before the night he ruined us for good. “I need to see you.” I gag at the fake sweetness in my voice, but he always loved when I said I needed him.

There’s silence on the other end of the line for what feels like forever, and then he speaks.

“Meet me in the lobby of the Baybridge Inn at five.”

“Okay, great,” I almost squeal. “I’ll see you then.”

I go to end the call, but Jaxon speaks again at the last second.

“Oh, and Emory…just so we're clear, there’s only one way you can get me to drop the charges.” Then the call ends.

I’m notsure what I was expecting when my dad said we needed to take precautions, but trying to stuff a six-and-a-half-foot, two-hundred-pound linebacker of a man into my compact car was not it. Dad insisted I bring Dustin—one of his security guards at the firm—with me to meet Jaxon. I told him there was no way Jaxon would meet with me if Dustin was there, so we agreed that he would stay in the car and I would text him updates every so often. If he didn’t hear from me every ten minutes, he would come into the hotel to check on me.

“I think the seat goes back a little bit more,” I say apologetically as I pull up in front of the inn.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, ma’am.”

I laugh. I’ve known Dustin for years now, and he still insists on treating me with the utmost professionalism. He’s only a couple of years older than me and has that broody, sexy bodyguard thing going on. There’s definitely a romance novel out there waiting to be written about him, but despite his sex appeal, I’ve only ever thought of him as an acquaintance.

“Okay then. I’ll text you in ten.”

“Don’t forget,” he says, breaking character. “I will storm in there, guns blazing.”

I roll my eyes before slipping out of the car. “Got it, killer.”

As I enter the inn, I’m immediately greeted by the scent of mahogany and wood fire. This is one of the oldest hotels in Connecticut, but it’s constantly being updated, so it has a mix of historic charm and modern luxury. Despite it only being twenty minutes from Emberfield, I have only been here once for Caldwell Security’s annual Christmas party. Which I only attended because I accidentally let it slip to Nate that I wasn’t working that year. We were never invited before Nate started working at the company, which had been fine by me. I’m not surprised this is where Jaxon is staying, though. It’s probably the most expensive hotel around here.

I glance around but don’t see any signs of him. I check my phone. It’s a few minutes to five. Maybe he hasn’t come down yet. The man behind the front desk notices me looking around.

“Excuse me, miss. May I help you with something? Are you checking in?”

“No, I’m supposed to meet someone. A guest. I don’t see him yet, though,” I say as I continue perusing the lobby.

“Are you meeting Mr. Forbes by any chance?”

“Yes, actually.”

He nods his head. “He’s expecting you in the drawing room. Take a left at the fireplace, and it’s just down the hall from there.”

“Oh, thanks,” I say hesitantly. Of course, he’s already changing the meeting spot. Probably trying to get me further away from anyone who could hear me scream…

I walk to the end of the hall and see a singular door. It’s made of heavy oak that reminds me of the bookshelves in the library. I shoot off a text to Dustin letting him know my exact location, and then I slowly twist the brass handle until the door creaks open. I feel like I’m in a horror movie, about to walk into a grotesque crime scene or some chick with long black hair is going to crawl upside down towards me.

But no. It’s an entirely different scene of terror I walk into. Jaxon is sitting on one of the suede couches, his dirty blonde hair mussed and curling at the edges. He has two deep red bruises on his left cheek, a cut above his eyebrow, and one over his top lip. His nose is covered by a bandage with two matching purple bruises blooming underneath his eyes. He looks rough. I expected he would, but seeing him like this makes him look…I don’t know…almost human?

He’s looking at his phone, but he lifts his head up when he hears the door latch click back into place. He doesn’t stand but remains in his seat, his legs kicked out in front of him, a smug grin on his face, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“You came alone,” he observes. “Brave.”

I don’t say anything but slowly advance closer to where he’s sitting on the couch.

“You know,” I start. “It’s funny how sometimes you don’t think much of something until you put it into context.”

Jaxon looks confused. He probably assumed I was going to come in here all weak and docile, begging him to drop the charges against Luke, but he would have been dead fucking wrong.

“Do you remember parents weekend sophomore year?” I ask, not waiting for an answer. “It was the only one your dad came to. Not that I’m one to judge. My dad didn’t come to any. But yours came that year, and I didn’t see you for the entire two days. I remember thinking that you were hiding me from him because I wasn’t good enough. You know, like you always told me.

“But then I decided to go to the homecoming dinner, even though you hadn’t asked me to go with you. I thought I would surprise you since you were always saying I didn’t make enough time for us. I couldn’t find you, though. Then I passed by one of the empty rooms in the back and saw you and your dad.” I inch further into the room, taking in Jaxon’s expression. His gaze is pure steel. “He seemed really angry,” I continue. “He called you a fuck-up. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought you were just having an argument and things got a little heated. My dad and brother used to argue like that sometimes. Anyway, I snuck out because I didn’t want to interrupt. I didn’t even think anything when you showed up the next day limping with bruises all over your face. You told me you went to a keg party that night and got into a fight. And I believed you.”

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