chapter TEN
Lesson of the Day:
Every once in a while, it’s good to let go and let loose.
Mikka
Jay’s guilt ran deeper than his fun-loving side, it ran deeper than his charm and definitely deeper than Jax and Brey could see. I suddenly found myself wanting to defend him, even if that meant wedging myself between him and his family.
“So,” I announced loudly. Brey’s eyes sliced over to me, the green in them a sharp contrast to her dark eyebrows and long dark hair. “I’m Mikka. I’m Jay’s PA. Not his flavor of the week or month or year.”
“You’re Mikka?” Brey asked as if something finally clicked in her head. “You’re…” She looked at Jay, then shoved him in the shoulder. “You said she was a ‘friend.’”
“She is.” Jay balked and then hurried on. “She’s not that type… Jesus, Brey. I just got back.”
“Yeah, I know. And I hate to assume, but it has always been the norm, Jay.”
“It isn’t always the damn norm, woman.” He looked at Jax. “Is she always this pissy?”
“Watch it.” Jax growled, as he wrapped an arm around her waist and settled his chin on her head. He almost swallowed her up and yet she stood there like a freaking queen, her presence so magnetic, I could swear the whole bar was watching her.
She looked up at her husband and whispered something. He smiled and let her go. Then Jax slid right in next to his brother. Those two next to each other in a booth nearly did me in. When Jax wrapped his arm around Jay and grumbled, “Missed you and your dumb ass. Don’t make me come out there to LA and babysit you,” I about cried.
“Yeah, yeah. Missed you too, man.” Jay caught me tearing up. “Let’s get you another drink because I can’t have you crying before the night begins.”
Brey sighed. “I’m normally not this direct and rude, Mikka,” she confessed as she curled the ends of her hair, trying to explain herself.
She waited for my response, but I didn’t have one yet. She might have been Jay’s best friend, but I was protective of him. None of them knew the extent of his addiction. They hadn’t found him in the compromising places I had over the years. They hadn’t wiped coke off his counter or bathroom or nightstand.
So, I waited for her to continue. Or to not. I didn’t have to make the effort. Jay and I were fighting through this month together but I couldn’t trust that anyone else knew how to fight that fight with us.
“So, okay.” She slumped a little. “I apologize if I came off the wrong way. Before he was ever really my brother-in-law, he was my best friend, the only family I ever really had. I need to know if he’s okay, and I expect him to tell me when he’s here. We’ve always been that close.”
“Baby girl…” He let the nickname roll from his lips for her. He sounded dejected, apologetic, and simply charming.
I nodded. I scooted over for her, pulled my leather bag to the other side, and patted the booth as I said, “Well, I’m here to organize his priorities. So maybe it’s my fault.”
I shifted the blame because I felt his thigh tense against my leg. Above the table, though, he was smirking, leaning back and nodding like he was completely okay with her words.
Brey stared at me like she was assessing my intentions, and Jax took that moment to drag his brother to the bar with him.
That left me with her, this phenomenon of a woman who I knew was very protective of my friend. I’d never met her over the years. I knew that was because Jay normally flew back to visit them instead of them coming to us. From what I’d read, I respected her for the life she’d lived. Still, I sat there fiddling with my leather bag instead of making conversation.
As soon as they were out of earshot, she drilled home her point. “If you’re taking the blame for him not calling me, I commend your effort but my best friend has fingers. He knows how to dial my number with or without your consent.”
I shoved my leather bag more into the corner of the booth so as not to snap at her. I pointedly turned her way and rested my forearm on the table.
Didn’t she understand her friend at all? He’d never just call them up and ask for help.
No one wants to be a burden. Yet, sometimes life makes the hardest moments the ones you would never expect them to be. Admitting his failure, admitting his addiction, facing it down over and over in this town would be one of those moments.
“He needs to worry about himself first.” I replied and held her gaze.
“Did you discuss his road to recovery with his therapist?” she inquired and I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely curious or was about to blurt out that I didn’t have a say in what he should worry about.
“I’ve been updated through our agency on his progress and how well he’s done with therapy.” I nodded. The doctors and therapists all loved him, thought he would do well, weren’t even sure that we needed random drug tests. I filed away their praise as part of Jay’s likeability. I had to. Someone had to be strong enough to enforce things for him.
“So.” She cleared her throat and busied her hands with scraping at a part of the table. “How can I help? I’m not helping now. I realize that. I’m hurt and it’s selfish. I know it but I can’t help it. He’s always been my rock and to see him crumbling without my knowledge gutted me. And he’s going through more. So, I’m only telling you this. I will be strong and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep him healthy.”