Page 174 of Tar City
“You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and then act like you care,” I say, my breath coming in ragged bursts. “You don’t get to disappear for months and then just?—”
He presses his hand more firmly against my heel to stop the bleeding.
“You need to be more careful,” he says quietly, his eyes locking on mine.
“What?” I’m completely thrown.
“With your feet.”
I try to put weight on it, but he’s faster. In one smooth motion, he slides an arm under my knees and lifts me with ease.
“Put me down!” I snap immediately, pushing at his chest.
He doesn’t even slow down. “No.”
“I can walk.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Jax—”
My eyes scan him, taking in the changes. His shoulders are broader, solid with muscle. The easy lean of the boy I knew is gone. His jaw is framed by a short, dark beard. His hair is longer, falling into his eyes, and there’s a faint scar near his eyebrow that I don’t recognize.It’s all wrong, and it’s all him.
“Where are you going?” I demand, my voice a little too high.
“Where do you want me to take you?”
“Well—” I push against him again, more out of pride than strength. “I guess back to my friends. My date.”
He lets out a low breath that’s definitely a laugh. “We both know you don’t want that.”
“Is that so?” I bite out. “And what makes you so sure?”
He keeps walking, his steps sure and even. “That kiss,” he says, his voice against my ear. “It was like watching paint dry. Painful.”
A burning heat crawls up my neck. “No, it wasn’t.”
He lets out a low, dark chuckle. “Liar. You were so bored I could feel it from across the water.”
I try to squirm, but his grip is like iron. He shifts me in his arms, and the movement presses me closer. “So, what’s the verdict on ‘Sir-Kisses-A-Lot’ back there? Does he have any idea you’re a feral little thing that’ll bite his hand off, or does he think he’s just petting a sweet little bunny?”
“Fuck you, Jax.”
“That’s my rabbit.”
“Thought you were leaving,” I spit out, trying to ignore the way my body is reacting to him.
“I am. Oh, by the way, you were incredible tonight.”
I inhale. “You were there?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
What?
“Are you going to tell me where to take you, or should I keep walking aimlessly until you decide?”
I hesitate, caught between my pride and the throbbing in my foot. “Doesn’t seem to be much of a workout for you,” I manage. “All this muscle. Your new life in The Cut must be treating you well.”
