He Use To Be A Son Of Anarchy

Chapter Nineteen: Ditched

Nothing compares to the feeling of waking up after a good night's sex. Except maybe waking up next to the man who you thought was really into you and not just using you for sex.

That's right. When I woke up that morning Jax was no longer next to me. I rolled over and felt the other side of the bed, but it was empty. I immediately sat upright and listened for any sound of him in the apartment. I looked for him in the bathroom and living area, but there was no sign of him. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions yet, so I got up, showered quickly and headed out.

I knocked on his door to see if he was home. It was 6:47am. He probably wasn't at work yet. I knocked twice, waited and knocked again. I stood there for at least five minutes.

Nothing.

My heart sank to my stomach. I didn't want to be Jax's one night stand. I thought there was something more to it – to us. If this really was a one night stand... I don't think my heart could've handled it. I don't usually jump into bed with someone I barely knew. And yet, there I was. I had slept with a murderer. What the hell was I thinking?

I decided to head off to Al's Garage to see if Jax went in early to work. If he wasn't there I would have to come to terms with the fact that I had been used.

I made my way around the apartment building, and walked up the street to the far entrance of the garage. The scene was quiet. I spotted Al going inside the small office. I walked quickly towards the small building, keeping my eye open for Jax, but no one else was around.

The door was open, but I knocked anyway, hoping not to startle the balding round man that was Al. He turned around, spotted me and turned back to a stack of papers he was shuffling through.

"We're not open yet," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was actually looking for Jax- I mean, Jackson," I said hurriedly correcting myself.

"He's not here. Called early, said he was sick," he said while punching holes through a stack of papers.

"Thanks," I mumbled and moved away from the office.

I wasn't angry with him. I was more mad at myself than anything else. I did however feel disappointed in Jax. I shouldn't have let it gone that far.

Maybe I was a bit mad at Jax, but still I blamed myself for most of it. Who was I to think someone like Jax Teller would hook up with a girl he barely knew and stay the night. What was I hoping for? That we'd have breakfast in the morning, exchange kisses and ride off into the sunset?

No. I was naïve to think the hook up meant something more to him. I was naïve to think that he actually liked me. I was just another floozy.

How stupid was I? Honestly. I knew enough from Jax's stories to know that the Sons had their fair share in sleeping around. Who was I to think that I was different?

I knew about Ima. I knew Jax used her to get off when he was mad. He used her. Just like her used me. I was just another Ima.

Anger started bubbling up towards the surface. I wish I could punch him in the throat. How dare he take advantage of the situation? Why did I fall for it? Maybe I deserved this. But I was still hurt and that sucked. I only had myself to blame.

I made my way back up to my apartment. It felt as though my heart was ripped from my chest. The last thing I wanted to do was go to work.

I called Miss Wayforth saying I was sick. Of course she didn't buy my story and demanded specifics. I told her I was vomiting and had uncontrollable diarrhoea and put down the phone saying I had to go throw up.

That usually shuts them right up. No one can protest when food is coming out of both ends of you.