Let it Be //

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I'm baffled by the words I hear from Jax. My memory of what he is telling me is weak. It's foggy and blurry. I try to recall what he speaks of but it only ignites my headache and angers me. How can I not remember this?! I'm aggravated at my weak attempt to remember.

I need to know exactly what happened. I can't just black out. I mean, Jax is a stranger to me! He doesn't come off as someone who would hurt me- considering what he has already done for me. But, I still don't trust him.

He tells that after a few moments of trying to wake me after I blacked out, he decides against taking me to the hospital. Apparently I looked just fine despite the few bruises and scrapes on my arm and head. He takes me to his truck and drives me to his house where he lays me down and bandages my head.

But, I don't understand. I'm confused. Lost. His rough- tough-guy exterior throws me off. He drinks, goes to bars, gets into fights with strange drunk mean- yet, he cared for me? I didn't know men could be so...kind.

We walk down the cracked sidewalk next to trashy, city houses. They reek of cat piss and weed. Dogs bark in the distance and only dim streetlights illuminate the path in front of us. I can't believe that I was going to walk all this way home. I'm scared, I have to admit that. But, I would never say that out loud.

I am tough and strong.

Always.

Never weak.

We've been walking nearly an hour and my sore, tired legs stumble a bit hear and there. Jax checks in, making sure I feel okay, and I assure him I am fine, just clumsy.

What is it about him? I see such a troubled boy on the outside but he's good? He has good intentions.

No Andi. That's what they want you to believe. They are all the same.

"So, since I kind of saved your life. You think I at least deserve to know your name?" Jax's hands sit comfortably in his jean pockets as he walks, slight ahead of me.

I hesitate, debating on giving him a false name to assure my own safety. But my words slip from my mouth before I have time to wit up a unique but believable name. "Andi," I say a bit strangled.

"Andi, huh?" He laughs lightly, stroking his lips with his finger. "You look more like a Alyssa or Kylie."

My eyebrows dip down a bit, a little taken of by his comment.

"Well, you look like more like a Felicia or Nicki to me but you don't hear me voice my opinion about that now do ya?" He cackles obnoxiously, clapping his large hands together and throwing his head back.

"Now that...that was great." He slows down so we are now walking side by side. Glancing at him briefly, I catch him grinning at me widely. Wow. It was sexy. "You know Andi, you're pretty funny."

I blush but I'm certain he can't see it. At least that's what I tell myself, I'd be embarrassed if he noticed and probably blush harder which would make this whole situation a million times worse.

"Are you sure we are going the right way?" This is my excuse to get the conversation off the topic of myself.

"Yes. I know this city like the back of my hand." He sighs loudly. "Babe, just relax a little. No need to be so tense..."

First off, did he really just call me 'babe'? Second, why the hell wouldn't I be tense? I mean for Jesus sake I was nearly killed by my father, I was three seconds away from getting ran over, and the next thing I know I'm lying in a strangers home with no memory of what the fuck even happened to me.

I am livid.

"Really? You have the audacity to tell me to loosen up? Ha! Do you not understand what I have been through in the matter of 24 hours? I don't even fucking know you and here I am walking with you in the middle of the fucking night to get my ass home! You know what. I can walk myself home... You are about to piss me off, dude."

I storm off, raged, with steam pouring from my ears. But the only thing I hear over the sound of police sirens is Jax's smug chuckle.

"You aren't fucking funny, okay? Why don't you go be an asshole somewhere else..."

He's still laughing.

I can hear him over everything. It's piercing through my ears and driving me crazy.

I keep walking ignoring the fact that he stalks close behind, keeping a safe distance but still following me.

I spin around quickly now standing inches from this asswipe. He hovers over me, intimidating me. He smells like mint and alcohol- I nearly vomit at the smell of the Budweiser that lingers on his breath.

"What the hell is your problem?! I told you I can walk myself home! I don't need you! Do you want me to call the cops?" I threaten him but it does nothing to his stamina.

"You aren't safe out here alone..."

I puff my cheeks out and cross my arms. "Don't you think I know that already?! Just go!" He stays stationary until I begin my retreat home again.

Why is he so consistent? He must be either extremely crazy or intoxicated. Probably both.

I chose to ignore him. Maybe he will go away then?

He lingers behind me, I know because I can hear him clear his throat occasionally and scuff his boots against the concrete.

Eventually I see my house in the distance and stop. All the lights are on and there are several vehicles in the driveway. Shouting erupts from my home and I'm embarrassed.

Why am I so easily embarrassed in front of him? I don't get it.

My father has parties like this just about every weekend. All of his bar friends come over, most of the time they watch re runs on the television of whatever sit com is on at the time and they drink. They drink until they are drowning in their own vomit and piss. I am the one that is left to clean up the mess.

"Okay... This is it." I stand at the fence to my neighbors home and unlatch the fence. It's probably not safe that he know where I live exactly anyway.

"I can walk you to the door-"

"No!" I shout. "You need to go home. You've done enough already...thank you." He sighs and adjust the beanie on his head.

"Okay...I'm sorry. Goodnight." He speaks timidly, the first of this I have heard from him.

"Goodnight." I don't enter the gate to my neighbors home, I watch as he gracefully walks away from me. He kicks a few spare pebbles as he walks alone, and seemingly sad. I bite my lip and squint my eyes tightly. Tears brimming my eyes.

Now I can cry. Now, I can be weak. I can collapse into a puddle of my own tears and sadness. And I do. I kneel down and sob.

I don't care that the sidewalk scrapes my bare legs. I don't care that I'm sitting in front of my neighbors home, crying my eyes out. I don't care that I am weak. I don't care. I don't. I need to let go of this. Everything. I can't do this. I can't continue to be strong. I don't know if I can do this anymore.

I need freedom.

I scream loudly and pull my hair once more before cutting through my backyard and snaking through my backdoor.

My father sits on the couch, with a beer bottle firm in his grip. His friends surround the TV, laughing and horsing around as middle aged men do I suppose.

No one notice me, as usual.

And so I head up to my room. I take a much needed hot shower and drown myself in soap. I smell like strawberries again. I dry my hair quickly with a towel and slip on fresh night time clothes. I chose an oversized t shirt and my favorite pair of undies to sleep in.

I slip underneath my sheets- my window in my bedroom slightly open and my door locked tight. A cool but calming breeze eases into my room as I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.