Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

A raw scream escapes my lips as I wake to a dark room. I press a shaky hand against my chest as if I can calm my racing heart. My door slams against the wall as Jax rushes in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Elena?” He comes to my side of the bed.

I stare at my hands, failing to manage any words. Images return of the worst night of my life. So much blood. Sticky, dark blood.

Jax’s fingers press into my shoulders. “Tell me what the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

Bloody.

I tumble out of bed and rush to the bathroom, switching on the lights before making it to the toilet. Acid coats my tongue as my dinner fights its way back up. My fingers tremble as I clutch onto the side of the ceramic seat.

“Fuck. Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?” Jax kneels down next to me, lifting my hair away from my face.

“Lights,” I hiss. “Why did you shut off the lights?” My voice sounds broken. Weak. Defeated.

His wild eyes roam over my face as he clutches onto my hair tighter. “This is because of the dark? You scared the shit out of me. I thought something was seriously wrong with you.”

Another round of sickness rolls through me, but I fight it. I stand, my wobbly legs nearly buckling as I walk toward the sink.

More unwanted images flood my mind. Shattered glass. Blood, dark and thick, sticking to my body. I take a few deep breaths as I turn on the water, pump soap into my hands, and start washing.

“Elena, talk to me. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

My hands tremble as I rid myself of the soap. I switch tasks, deciding to vigorously brush my teeth to the point of pain before turning off the water. My eyes linger on my hands, looking clean despite the feeling of disgust sitting heavy inside of me. I turn the water back on to wash them again.

Jax grabs me and lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder. “No more weird handwashing. Stop freaking the fuck out and talk to me.”

I scream as he carries me back into the pitch-black room. “No!” I claw at his back.

“Fucking hell. Cut it out.”

“I want the lights!” My body shakes as I battle the tears begging for release.

He places me on the bed and turns on the lamp. “Shit, Elena. You’re afraid of the dark?”

I shake my head and tuck my knees into my chest. My eyes linger on the photo of my parents before I close them. Pain, blindingly hot, shoots through my chest. A wounded cry comes out of me. I place my forehead against my knees and sob, curling into myself to save me from the embarrassment of Jax watching me lose it. Shame fills me at letting someone see me like this, but I haven’t had a nightmare this vivid in a long time. So long I forgot what they feel like.

“What in the bloody hell happened to you?” Jax whispers. He surprises me when he slowly gets on the bed and pulls my curled body down onto the mattress. His body molds into mine. My skin prickles with awareness, craving his closeness, especially after what I experienced.

I don’t want to be alone, and somehow, he knows this.

Jax drags the comforter up our bodies, cocooning us.

“Don’t turn off the lights again. Never ever again. Promise me,” I rasp.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I had no idea you were afraid of the dark when I shut them off. I thought you fell asleep and forgot.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Your screaming begs to differ.”

“I’m afraid of my memories,” I speak softly, unsure if he heard me.

I jolt when he runs his hand through my hair. My eyes shut and my head tingles from his slow caress through my waves. I’m painfully aware of Jax’s body. His heat surrounds me, offering a sense of protection.

“Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch for any bad guys.”

A new tight feeling in my chest replaces the one left behind from the nightmare. I don’t think I’ve ever been as grateful for Jax’s presence than in this moment. “Are you counting yourself?”

“Always. But I’ll protect your virtue, don’t worry.”

“This isn’t a good idea.”

His hand finds mine and gives it a squeeze. “Nope. Not at all.”

Even amidst my sadness, my heart rate picks back up. “Then why are you here?”

“You always ask me questions I don’t have answers to.” He sounds confused.

Minutes pass. Jax’s hand encases mine, calming me despite everything.

“What’s happening to us?” I whisper to myself.

“I wish I knew the answer to that too. But to be honest, I’m scared shitless to find out.”

My eyes grow heavy as I listen to the rhythmic sound of Jax’s breathing. I battle unconsciousness and lose the fight. Jax’s hand returns to my hair, running through the strands for what feels like an hour.

Jax leaves behind the softest kiss near the base of my neck. “I wish I hated you. But instead, you’re making me like you more. You pretend to be this put-together person, but you’re broken—damaged like me. And the absolute fucking worst is that I want to know your messed-up parts too. I want to put them together with mine and see what we create. So, I don’t know whether to run in the opposite direction or beg you for a chance despite how much of an arse I’ve been,” he whispers.

Oh, God. He thinks I’m sleeping.

“But most of all, I wish I wasn’t a coward. I’m not brave. Fuck that. If I were, then I’d face my future for you. And bloody hell, if that doesn’t worry me more than anything else. You have the power to change it all.”

I don’t know what he says next. Even though I try to stay awake, exhaustion wins, with my eyes drifting shut again.

Jax watches me from his seat on the couch as I exit my room. “I need to talk to you about last night.”

I’m afraid of what he wants to say, but I gather the courage to sit on the couch opposite him like a mature adult. My eyes try to find a spot in the room to stare at, but he stands and sits next to me.

I become acutely aware of his body, like crackling electricity coming off him in waves, leaving behind goosebumps on my skin.

Those hands were on me last night, holding me, making me feel safe.

“How often do you get nightmares?”

“Not often anymore.” I avoid his gaze.

“And it was because of me turning off the lights?” His voice draws my eyes back to him like a ship seeking a lighthouse on a stormy night.

“I don’t like the dark.”

His eyebrows pull together. “I had no idea.”

“We aren’t exactly best friends.”

“I don’t want to be,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Yeah well you have the personality of a cactus, so I’m not exactly interested either.”

The corner of his lips lift. “I can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”

“Does dick sound more familiar?”

“Did you call me a dick?” He mockingly gasps as he clutches onto an invisible pearl necklace.

“Dick. Asshole. Pinche pendejo.”

Jax covers my mouth with his palm, his eyes reflecting a lightness I wish to see more of. “Stop. My virgin ears can’t handle this!”

I open my mouth and nip at his finger. Who am I, and why did I do that?NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Jax moves his hand away from my mouth. His thumb caresses my bottom lip as he stares at me, with desire and something else, pulling me in.

I’m so screwed beyond reason.

Jax pulls away before I have a chance to process how good his touch feels. “You ask me to pretend we never kissed, but I’m finding it pretty damn hard at the moment.”

“Because I bit your hand?”

“Because you’re looking at me like that’s exactly what you want.” His knuckles brush across my cheek.

My body comes alive like I touched an electric fence. “You need to stop.”

“The problem is I don’t want to anymore. Avoiding you is exhausting.” He tugs me into his firm body while his eyes search mine for permission.

My eyes flutter closed the moment his hand palms my cheek. His lips brush against mine, tentative and testing. The soft kiss isn’t what I’d expect from him; it’s shocking yet invigorating, making it impossible to resist. So much so, I forget about who we are and give in to the moment.

I sigh, offering him access to my mouth. His tongue teases mine. Our kiss intensifies and grows more passionate. Jax pulls me onto his lap, encouraging me to straddle him. His erection grows as I grind into him, failing to ease the ache inside of me. His kiss becomes more dominant. He fights back for control with his tongue while his hands grip my hips to the point of pain. Everything about the kiss begs me to submit to him. I groan as he nips at my bottom lip, tugging and sucking on the sensitive skin.

My mind becomes cloudy as we kiss. His hands grip my ass and tug me closer. A groan escapes his lips as he palms my ass, eliciting a shiver from me.

Our kiss is erotic and toxic, with a hint of chaos.

Jax moves onto my neck, leaving my lips swollen and throbbing from his assault. A ringing phone sounds over our heavy breathing, reminding me of everything wrong with this scenario.

I still, no longer rubbing into him like I want to give his dick a ride. My cheeks flush as I climb off him and stand on shaky legs, pressing my hand to my lips.

“Shit!” He leans his head against the couch.

“What is happening to us?” I whisper to myself.

“The worst thing.”

A sharp pain echoes through my chest. “It’ll never happen again. It can’t happen again.”

His hands tug at his hair. “Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then why is it the worst thing?” I throw my arms in the air. “One second I think you like me, the next I’m wondering what’s going on with you.”

He shuts his eyes. “Liking you isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is the problem? Because ever since I met you, you’re always snippy with me. Even when I was helping Liam, you barely looked at me, barely spoke to me. And now you’re acting nicer, and I have no clue what to do with that either.”

“You don’t get it. Being normal with you threatens everything I’ve set up for myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with normal.”

“For people like me, it is. I can’t have that kind of lifestyle.”

“Because of your job?”

“No. Because I’m an arsehole who doesn’t deserve hope. It’s cruel for both of us.”

“Everyone deserves hope.” My heart cracks as Jax looks at me with the most pained face.

“Not those without a future.” Jax rises from the couch and enters my personal bubble again. He places a soft kiss on the top of my head before stepping away. “You deserve moments worthy of buying a snow globe, not ones tainted with sadness and regret.”

He steps away, but I clutch onto his hand, not letting him go. “No. You stay right here and tell me what you mean. I’m done with the doom and gloom attitude and half-cloaked statements.”

He looks down at our hands as if he can sense our weird bond too. “My mum has Huntington’s Disease. It’s genetic and shitty as fuck, which means there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’m going to end up with the same disease. That diagnosis would ruin any chance at a normal life. No forever and always. No happy ending. Nothing except a future riddled with pain for me and whatever family I have. I refuse to drag anyone down with me, watching me fade into a person they don’t recognize.”

Tears pool in my eye ducts. “God, Jax, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s nothing I haven’t accepted.”

“But have you? You act like a fifty-fifty chance is the end. Aren’t there tests to check if you have this disease in the first place?”

“I’m not one of your damn puzzles. There’s no way to solve the problems in my life because I don’t want the test results. I can’t imagine going through life if I test positive, knowing the outcome of that kind of disease. I already met with a genetic counselor last year and decided against testing, so there’s no use trying to convince me.”

“But you’re assuming knowing you have it is worse than not knowing. It can’t be healthy either way.”

His jaw ticks. “Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

“I’m not trying to. I only want to help you see other options.”

“You need to accept my choice. Your job is to keep an eye on me and help me with my reputation. That’s it. We can be attracted to one another—hell, we can kiss and fuck and do every dirty thought I’ve played in my head over and over, but this can never turn into anything more.”

Can I deal with something like that? If my work reputation wasn’t at risk, would I want to try for more with Jax?

Jax softly tugs his hand out of my grasp. “Shit. Don’t bother thinking about that offer. You deserve more than that. You deserve more than me.” His back is the last thing I see before he enters his suite and shuts the door.

I drop onto the couch, attempting to wrap my mind around Jax’s revelation.

After an hour of thinking and researching, I come to a conclusion. Jax needs to believe in his future. He needs to want something more in life than succeeding with Formula 1. But most of all, he needs me to show him there’s more to life than the things we fear.

If we let the nightmares define us, then we lose sight of our dreams.