Page 91 of Chasing Callie

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you,” Jax mutters, but there’s no heat in it.

“They’re so annoying,” Knox tells me quietly.

Biting my lip, I fight a grin at the twins’ antics and set to work cleaning his wounds. Their immediate defense of me, their absolute certainty that none of this is my fault, makes my throat tight with emotion. These men have my back without question. I can’t believe I missed out on this bond for years, but I’ll be damned if I lose it now to the likes of Penelope.

I finish cleaning Knox’s cuts and apply small bandages to the deeper scratches. “There. Good as new.”

“Thanks, Alley cat.”

The old nickname wraps around my heart like a warm hug. I pack up the first aid kit and head back to my station to finish my shift.

Please, I send up a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening as I fall back into the rhythm of making drinks. Please find a way to give us peace. Just for a little while.

Once the excitement has settled down, Jax and I go back to working, and while he smiles and chats with the tourists like nothing happened, I can see the tension in his shoulder. The unease in his smile that wasn’t there before.

Fucking Penelope. It seems she’s good at destroying other people’s peace.

In the middle of mixing up a cocktail, I notice him heading to the back to restock ice. I shake the drink hard and fast, pour it, and practically throw it at the customer before running after him. A few people waiting for drinks grumble in protest.

“Hey! We’ve been waiting!” some chick shouts.

Dammit. My steps slow, gaze lingering on the back, torn between going to Jax to make sure he’s okay and making sure that Maura’s customers are happy.

“Go,” a soft voice murmurs.

I glance at Bree. Her hair is pulled back in a no-nonsense bun and she’s barely wearing any makeup, but there’s no mistaking the fact that Bree is a knockout. She’d make a trash bag dress look like couture. But she’s shy and soft-spoken. The bar will eat her alive. “No, it’s okay, I’ll go back.”

“Callie,” she says, eyes narrowing slightly, the most emotion I’ve seen them have. “Just go talk to him. I’ll be okay for a few minutes.”

Indecision wars inside me, but my heart is aching for Jax, so even though I have no idea if she has experience behind the bar, I nod. “Okay. Five minutes and I’m back.” That’s probably too long as it is. The bar is flooded.

I turn and slip into the room with the ice machine, watching Jax shove the scoop into the bin with a tshhh and yank it right back out with more force than necessary. The frozen water crashes into the bucket, a few pieces scatter on the floor but he doesn’t even react. There’s a hard line between his eyebrows.

“I swear to god if you let that woman make you feel like shit I will kick your ass myself.”

Pausing, the scoop halfway dug into the mountain inside the ice bin, he glances at me. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” I cross my arms. “You can’t lie to me, Jaxon Williams.”

“Full name, huh?” he asks with a laugh. “Guess I’m in trouble.” He shoots me a smirk, but it’s half-hearted.

Closing the distance, I place my hand on his chest and hold his gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m a bartender.”

“And?”

He frowns. “I’m not doing anything good with my life.”

“Jax, I wish you could see the man that I see.” My eyes shift between his, begging him to believe me. “You treat me like a princess. You help people when they need it. You protect your family when you need to. You are a good man.”

He starts to protest again, but I cut him off.

“Not to mention, you’re working to become a fire fighter. People don’t do that for fun, they do that because they want to save people. Is that someone who’s worthless?”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” he rasps.