Page 55 of Timeless

I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and ripped it off.

I dropped my shirt on the floor and picked her hand back up.

“Jax, what happened to your stomach?” Amber’s eyes were on my very badly scarred stomach.

“Nothing.”

“That’s isn’t nothing!” She pulled her hand away from me, and her fingers ran over the scarred skin. “What happened?” Her eyes were off my scar and she was looking me in the eye.

She had wiped her expression off her face earlier but right now she was letting her emotions show. She was concerned and I saw the worry across her face.

I glanced down at my stomach. My body was covered in scars now. A lot of my tattoos had been damaged from the shank attacks.

What can I say, being the king painted a target on my back. Not only did I have to control all the clubs from inside but I also was where the main source of our wars would start. In prison. A gang taking on a member normally caused a war, in prison and outside. And when the gangs thought they could kill the heart of Satan’s Sons—well, at least they always got creative on ways to kill me.

I had drafted that many members in there—along with life members, we outweighed the general population—but there would always be one smart ass, badly tattooed, highly dedicated member of some organization who would want to take me on.

I didn’t let my men deal with them. I didn’t let my men defend me or protect me. I did that myself. They wanted a fight with the King; they got a fight with the king. The only reason my sentence wasn’t increased with the amount of lives I took, was because I had most of the higher-ranked guards on my payroll.

In the reports, I was ‘defending’ myself.

“Jax, this looks really bad.” Amber’s hand was soft on my skin. I wasn’t used to anyone touching me. So, it was automatic to brush it off. I realized what I did as soon as I stopped her from touching me. Her eyes bounced up, shocked at my action.

I just wasn’t used to skin on skin. “Sorry. I um, didn’t mean to um…” God, I was trying to draw her in not push her away and what do I do, literally push her hands off me. I had her hand on my heart a minute ago but my shirt was stopping her from touching my skin.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have touched you.” She crossed her arms and took a step back from me. I noticed her eyes were still on my stomach. She thought she had crossed a line.

I wanted her touching me. It had just been an automatic reaction to brush her hand off. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.

I saw her swallow sharply and then she took her eyes off my scarred stomach. “You should go, Jax. We can talk in the morning.”

Nah. No way. No way was I letting her push me away. “It is morning.” I wasn’t leaving. Not while she thought I was going to walk in and out of her life and our son’s.

At the end of the day I’m a criminal. One that just got let out. I wasn’t a role model. I sure as fuck wasn’t someone you should look up to. So yeah, I panicked about disappointing Jack. The only example I have of being a parent was my own father, who was serving a life sentence. He’d left me at a young age to take over his empire of bikers and territories. I also inherited his wars and enemies.

I didn’t want that for Jack. I didn’t want him to be forced to follow my example. My life wasn’t one you looked up to. Well, other criminals would but a normal every day person would think I was a waste of space.

Amber was nervously rocking from foot to foot, looking embarrassed because she thought she crossed a line touching me. I pushed her away pregnant with my kid. Sure, when it got down to details she pushed me away but in the end of it, look at her.

Fucking look at what she did!

She started a life, by herself, pregnant. She moved states away. She left her family. She didn’t have money; I sure as fuck didn’t give her a cent. I was scared of disappointing Jack. She faced becoming a parent by herself. She faced having him, by herself. She managed to get a place to bring him up in. She faced parenthood by herself.

Who the fuck did I think I was being scared now? She would have been terrified! She didn’t run. She didn’t dump my son at the nearest foster house or church. She didn’t have an abortion. She did something most women are terrified of and that is facing the world as a single parent.

She managed to get her life together and not the way she knew. She didn’t get her life together by using the only skills she knew, which was stealing, blackmailing, and taking headshots.

She did something I’d never thought she’d do; she worked. Literally got a job and worked her way up.

My Amber.

God, she was strong.

She was incredible.

Look how brave she was.

And I had let her down, over and over. Well, I wasn’t repeating the pattern. I was putting an end to it now. She was out of my league more now than ever. She was fierce. She was strong. She was one fucking great mother. And she didn’t need me.

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