Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“Nope. Not dreaming.” Her back shakes as she attempts to hide her laughter.

I focus on the keys, playing her a song reminding me of the hope she gives me. The crazy drive she stirs up in me to be better—to be more.

More for her. More for me.

The combination of us is deadly yet unstoppable. My self-restraint has hit its maximum, like a rubber band about to snap.

Elena places her hand over mine after I finish playing the song. “Thank you.” A new tear trickles down her cheek.

I hate them. Before she has a chance to leave, I brush the droplets away with my other hand. “Why are you crying, and how do I get you to stop?”

Elena looks at me with misty eyes. “Hearing you play the song she loved, it stirs up a lot inside of me. The second one was an added bonus.”

“Like what?” my voice rasps.

“Everything. Happiness, pain, appreciation. So much is happening in my head I can’t make sense of it. But most of all, I miss her.”

“I reckon you lost your mum?”

She sniffles. “Yes. When I was twelve.”

“Shit. I’m sorry to hear that.” The thought of going through life without my mum now makes me anxious. I can’t imagine growing up without one, to begin with.

“I lost her and my dad on the same day.” She pauses, staring down at the keys. “They were murdered.” She exhales a shaky breath.

I grip her trembling hand, clutching onto her fingers like the lifeline she needs. “Fuck.”

“I was there. When it happened.”

Holy shit. I don’t know what to say. Everything in me hurts at the thought of a child having to experience that type of trauma.

“It was the worst night of my life. I was reading in my closet, hiding in case my parents checked on me before bed. But then my parents were screaming, and the gunshots happened. And then there was silence.”

“You don’t have to say any more.”

“No. I need to.” She takes a deep breath. “The men tried to find me, but I was hidden behind clothes and boxes. Once I was sure they left, I went downstairs, and I found them.” She pulls her hand away from mine and covers her face to hide her distress. The sob she lets out wrecks my heart, with me helpless as she falls apart. Nothing I will say can take away that kind of pain.

“That’s why I don’t sleep in the dark. I get nightmares. In some, the men find me and kill me after my parents die. In others, my parents are shot in front of my eyes, with me not being able to stop the men.”

I stand and pull Elena up with me, holding her to my chest, needing to keep her close. “We’ll eliminate those nightmares one at a time. Fuck it all and fuck anyone who tries to mess with you again.”

Elena deserves someone in her corner, willing to protect her. The way she looks at me tempts me to be that for her. Except I’m no hero.

And that’s what makes me devastating.

29

Elena

I press my hands against Jax’s chest, wanting to process his words.

He tugs my hands into his and holds them to his chest. His heart races beneath my palms. “I’m sorry I’ve been an arse to you. Fuck, I’m sorry for treating you the way I have. All of it. The partying, the pushing your buttons, the mean things I’ve said. You deserve better than what I’ve given you.”

“I don’t want someone to care about me because of my life story.” I attempt to pull away from him, but he holds on.

“It’s not because of your story. It’s because of who you are despite that story.”

His words grip onto my heart and hold me in place. I don’t know what to say or how to feel about the shift in his personality. Sharing my story wasn’t meant to make him pity me. In all honesty, I have no idea what possessed me to share that dark part of myself with him in the first place.