He Use To Be A Son Of Anarchy

Chapter Twelve: A Worthwhile Move

Only a couple days later did I fully realise what a jerk I had been to Jax. In my defence he did read the situation entirely wrong. But then again how could he have known about my dad? When I thought more about it I realised that I would've come to the same conclusion he did.

Even though I hated the thought of it, I had to apologise to him for my behaviour. He was genuinely sincere and I shot him down. Even someone like Jax must have feelings? Even if he didn't I still felt like a giant ass.

As reluctant and stubborn as I was, I waited the following evening for him to return from the garage. I was absent from work for two days now. I knew Miss Wayforth was going to be pissed that I didn't even bother to call, but I couldn't go outside and with my phone being broken... well, let's just saying going A.W.O.L. was way easier than having to face people and explain the situation.

She'd understand, right? As I asked myself this uncertainty was the only answer I had. I didn't know if Miss Wayforth had any idea what it was like to lose someone so close to you. She probably did know what it felt like. She wasn't exactly young, but would she understand why I didn't want to face the real world just yet? Would she truly understand what grief does to a person? The stone cold personality of Miss Wayforth was hard to predict.

At that moment I honestly didn't care about the future of my job. I needed to get my shit together and I was going to do it one step at a time. I had to start somewhere. Apologising to Jax was first on the list. Dealing with the grief I was so overwhelmed with would take time.

At 5:15pm I waited on the inside of my door. When I heard his door opened, I peeped through the hole and saw him enter. I gave it a few moments before I went over to knock on his door.

I pushed the sadness away, if only for a few seconds, just to be able to swallow my pride and do what a decent human being would do when they were particularly rude to someone.

How screwed up is that, though? Me, apologising to a mastermind criminal for being slightly rude to him when he tried to kill me just a few days ago. Maybe my dad just raised me right.

My dad. I swallowed the lump in my throat, took a deep breath in and out.

He opened the door ajar.

"Are you here to scold me again?" he asked.

I shook my head. I was slightly annoyed with him, but bursting out in another fit of anger was the opposite of what I came to do.

He opened the door a little wider. He was shirtless. And God, did he look amazing. His jeans were stained with oil and his hands were dirty, but I could not help but marvel at him.

I quickly pulled my eyes away from his naked chest, almost ashamed that I even had such thoughts about him. I needed to keep in mind what kind of person he really was.

"I wanted to apologise," I said trying very hard to focus on his eyes and only his eyes.

"I get it," he said, "I made a mistake. I thought you turned me in. Sorry."

I nodded and turned my gaze to the floor. I should have been happy that he apologised too; that he knew he was wrong to attack me like that. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to find pleasure in this little victory.

"I'm sorry for pushing you for the story though. I still believe that if you helped me it wouldn't be that obvious. I'm not that stupid."

I waited, but he didn't reply.

"It really doesn't have to be anything like the real life events..." I trailed off. I was trying my luck again. Why I didn't know.

He scanned the hallway. There was no one around. He spoke in a whisper, "I'm not going to help you. I'm not risking it."

"But I just said that I won't write your story. I'll write the story of a fictional character. I just need you to help me get my background right. I know nothing of this business and I just need someone to tell me if I'm on the right track."

How did he not see what I was trying to tell him? I'm really not an idiot.

He didn't say anything again. Yet, I waited.

"Bring me some questions. Let me get the feel of it. If I think it's too obvious we stopped. Okay?"

Even though I still felt dead on the inside from the news about my dad, something stirred inside me. Was it excitement? It certainly didn't show on the surface. I kept my sombre expression.

"Okay," was all I managed to say.

He nodded and then closed the door.

I was getting a chance. That was more than enough. But I was going to have to tread carefully around Jax. He could just stop it all at any time if I pushed too hard. Something truly awful may have happened to me, but if I finally got what I needed from Jax, this whole move would not be so pointless anymore. And I guess the guilt I felt for leaving my dad would slowly fade away as it wouldn't have been for nothing.