Jax [uncomplete/not finishing]

six

I woke up to sun shining on my face. I could feel the dried tears, the soreness of my throat. I could feel fresh tears start to rise in my eyes at his words last night. 

"I will find out what he did, Lyla. And when I do, he isn't going to survive."  

With a grunt, and fighting my inner brain. I rolled out of bed and walked into the bathroom. it was much more glorious than my bathroom at home -- my old home. 

Even the thought of that brought pain to my heart. my father. I really lied so he wouldn't get killed even though he deserves it. He deserves every bit of pain that comes his way. 

I rolled over, preferably to cry myself back to sleep but the darkness wouldn't come, the tiredness vanished. With a low grunt I rolled out of bed and walked over to the bathroom door that was connected with my bedroom. 

I pulled it open and immediately walked over to the shower. I had to get this icky feeling off of me. I felt disgusted, filthy, gross. 

Stepping in the hot shower made all my tension filled bones relax. I turned so my face was hitting the water instead of my back. Letting the hot water run on my face probably wasn't the best decision, i'll probably regret it later if I get a burn. 

Suddenly my mind drifts off to when Jax first waltzed into my bathroom. That was a good night. The way his body moved with mine. the way he held me tight, acting as if he didn't want to let go.  

And then everything went downhill. 

My once relaxed body regained its tension at the thought of the other night. How could such a goodnight turn into a night that lead to where we are now? 

I like Jax. he is charming, attractive, but I just don't know what going on. And I keep telling myself it's nothing, but what if it's something and i'm missing the signals? 

this is situation is complete and utter shit. 

Jax couldn't find out what my father did. for many reasons. the main one being it happened behind closed doors, only available to the eyes of my mother and brothers. Secondly, I would not let Jax Anderson kill my father. 

I get it, its sicking seeming as though he gave me all my trauma but I couldn't put my mother through the death of my father. it wouldn't be fair or humane.

"No me importa lo que tengas que hacer, lo que tengas que decir, Alesso. Haz lo que sea necesario. Quiero que esté listo para el final de esta noche o no verás el amanecer mañana." 

[I don't care what you have to do, what you have to say, Alesso. Do whatever it takes. I want it ready for the end tonight or you won't see the sunrise tomorrow] 

I didn't typically understand spanish. English and italian are the only languages my father allowed us to know, probably because he didn't want us figuring out what he was planning with his C.I. 

Not like we cared. 

"That seems deadly," I joke, walking further into the kitchen. Jax turned his head to me, but his eyes wouldn't meet mine. "That's the point, Lyla." he said coldly. The way he said my name made pieces of my heart chip away. 

ouch. 

"Right. sorry," I mumbled, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge. As I turn back around I'm met with a very hard chest. I rub my forehead as if it actually hurt and moved out the way. 

He didn't even say sorry. 

inconsiderate asshole.