Page 23 of The Compass Series

KENNEDY

“ N o,” I called out as Jax began to walk away.

He turned to face me and tilted his head. “What?”

“I said no. You don’t get to walk away right now.”

“Have you lost your mind?” he barked, his voice coated with anger. Or was it pain? His eyes read pain while his voice screamed annoyance.

“A long time ago, but that’s beside the point. The point is, you need to sit down and come talk to me.”

“I’m not going to,” he ordered. “And if you don’t leave my property now?—”

“You’re going to call the cops, yeah, yeah, yeah, yadda, yadda, yadda, I get it, Jax. This is your role in this town. You’re the big bad wolf. The cold, hard man who doesn’t let anyone in, but I know you. The real you. That kind, sensitive boy is still in there. I know you’re not a real asshole.”

“Can you just go back home and pretend we don’t know each other?”

“No, I can’t, because I can tell you’ve been carrying a lot on your shoulders for a long time.”

He turned to me with a look of heaviness in his eyes. A look that never really leaves his stare. It’d been there since the first day we’d crossed paths in those woods. I could’ve only imagined how long that pain lived within him.

“I get it,” he said. “You feel as if there’s some kind of soul connection bullshit between us because we went to camp all those years ago, but that fact is null and void because I am nothing like the kid I was all those years ago.”

“And I’m nothing like the girl I was,” I agreed.

“Your colorful as fuck wardrobe and your inability to take a hint when conversations are over begs to differ.”

I smiled a little and smoothed my hand against my neon yellow sundress. “Okay, I guess some things stayed the same for me.”

“Not for me, though. No offense, but I’m not interested in reconnecting with you and trading camp stories over s’mores. I don’t have time for any kind of connection in my life—I’m too damn busy. So, if you would please?—”

“Kismet,” I said, standing up straighter. “You taught me that word. Remember? Along with a million other words. But kismet was my favorite. It meant?—”

“I know what it means,” he hissed, “but this isn’t that. This isn’t destiny.”

“It could be,” I argued. “All I’m saying is…this has to mean something. The universe brought us back together for a reason.”

“The universe doesn’t control us. I’m sick and tired of this millennial way of thinking.

There’s no such thing as destiny. If you need a reason for us crossing paths after all these years, here it is: we both lived about an hour outside of our campsite, it’s a small fucking world, and people move to different towns.

You just so happened to move to my hometown.

How’s that for your universe theory and divine timing? ”

“Not very good, I’ll admit.”

He looked at me and his mouth twitched, as if he had something to say, but didn’t want to share it with me. He shook his head and turned around to head back to his house, and I swallowed hard, thinking back to what Joy told me about Jax’s past.

I began following him once more and said the eight words I should’ve never said. “I heard about what happened to your mother.”

Jax’s back was to me as his body halted. His shoulders rounded forward and I swore it felt as if time stood still. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know how to move forward, but since I’d placed the words out there, I knew I couldn’t leave them lingering.

I took a few steps toward him as my next breath caught in my throat. “Jax, I’m so sorry about?—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, making my words falter away. His head shook as he kept his back toward me. “Don’t talk about my mother.”

Even though his words seemed harsh, I heard the crack in his voice as he spoke. That wasn’t anger he was spitting my way—it was pain. An ache I knew too well.

“It was a mistake, Jax. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You have no clue what was my fault.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to say I understand what you’ve been through.”

“There’s no way you understand what I’ve been through, Sun,” he muttered as the nickname hit me like a ton of bricks. If I were honest, so many of my recent days felt more like the shadows of the moon instead of sunbeams.

“I do,” I said, trying my hardest to make him see that he wasn’t alone in his misery.

He turned on his heels and his eyes pierced into me with their sadness. Within that moment I felt the weight of the world he’d been carrying around all on his own. “How? How do you understand?”

“Because I’m the reason my parents and daughter died,” I blurted out.

Those were my nine words. The nine words that burned as they rolled off the tip of my tongue.

The nine words I hadn’t spoken out loud since—ever.

I’d never said those words. Yoana forbid me to speak them, but each day I felt the weight of them.

Just because words weren’t spoken didn’t mean they weren’t felt, and those words suffocated me on a daily basis.

Jax’s eyes softened as he stood there with complete bafflement at my statement. My nerves shot through the sky, rocketing into the atmosphere, reminding me of how big a person’s hurts could be in a single moment.

I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers, because looking into those brown eyes of confusion was making my heart ache more than it could handle.

“There was a bad storm, and I was driving my family to a dinner out. It was right after a fight with my husband. He’d been sleeping around with a coworker and I found out.

He called me delusional, emotional, and unstable.

He was the master of gaslighting, making me feel as if I were at fault when I did nothing wrong.

He shut down my concerns without even giving me a chance for conversation on the subject.

He always did that—turned away from me when I needed his reassurance most. During the storm, he texted me and told me he wanted a divorce.

I glanced down at my phone when I got the message, and that was all it took.

One split second—one text message, and I hit a slick spot on the road.

The car spun and my whole life changed. That was over a year ago, but somedays it feels like mere minutes ago. ”

He didn’t say a word to me, yet he didn’t run away either. When the silence became too overpowering, I looked up to find him staring my way, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I wondered if Jax ever let anyone close enough to be able to read his thoughts.

His lips parted, but it was as if he couldn’t figure out the right words to say. Were there any right words in a situation like that?

He cleared his throat. His brows knitted.

My mouth opened to apologize. It was clear I overshared. It was clear I was making this situation out to be something it wasn’t. It was clear that he was going to hug me.

Wait.

What?

He was hugging me.

Jax’s body was wrapped around mine as he pulled me in close to him and held on as if he had plans on staying there for the rest of his life. His big, strong arms pooled around my whole frame, and I melted. I melted against his body and his soul. I melted into the history of our yesterdays.

He smelled like cedar and my favorite memories.

I wanted to hold on as long as I could. I wanted to breathe him in more and feel his comfort until I fell asleep that night. I wanted to thank him for giving me a moment to fall apart in his arms, even though I was certain I was supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around.

When it came time to part, he stepped back appearing a bit embarrassed by his sudden embrace. I wiped at my eyes and let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, or at least I imagined he did. “Me either.”

“I should get out of your hair. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” I began turning away when he called out to me.

“Kennedy.”

I turned back to wait for his next words. It seemed conversation didn’t come easy for him. That wasn’t new—it never had been easy for him. He cleared his throat once more as he gestured to the space around us. “You can come here whenever you need to clear your head.”

My chest tightened from his words. To some, they might’ve seemed a bit meaningless and cold for the truths I’d shared with him about my parents and my daughter, but from someone like Jax it was much more than that.

He was inviting me to visit his oasis, his safe haven, and it was an invitation I was going to accept.

“Thank you, Jax.”

He didn’t say a word, but before he turned away from me, the left side of his lips curved up into what was almost a sympathy smile. He raked one hand through his messy hair and sighed. “I’m bad at this.”

“Bad at what?”

“Peopling.”

I smiled. “You don’t say?” I said sarcastically.

His lips turned up into a full blown smile, and my stomach knotted up from the sight.

There he was.

The boy I once knew still lived inside the man of steel.

All I wanted him to do was to come out and play a little longer.