Jax shifted on the inflexible metal chair next to Seyla’s motionless form. She lay on top of a sheet on the hospital bed, where she’d slept for most of the hospital’s mandatory twelve-hour observation period after they’d stabilized her. She was the picture of vulnerability lying there. Jax scooted the chair closer. He hesitated, then touched her arm. Her skin felt clammy. Careful not to make a sound, he padded through the room to the doorway to flag down a nurse. Minutes later, prize in hand, Jax slipped back into the room to gently cover Seyla with the warm blanket.
Despite being eighty-seven degrees outside, the hospital air conditioning was winning the war against the heat, bent on maintaining temperatures in the upper sixties inside the building.
She sighed in her sleep.
He settled into the stiff, angular chair, feeling better. She needed this rest after what she’d been through. Regardless of the fact that they disagreed when it came to the sanctuary, Seyla needed some friends in her corner right now. Like it or not, he’d joined that list.
Lord, I don’t know why we’re in this situation right now, but I’m gonna have to trust that you have a reason.
Seyla’s soft full lips twitched in her sleep, her black lashes fluttering against prominent cheekbones.
Jax cleared his throat. Snapped his gaze away. Then experienced a strange pull, drawing him back to her again as if by an invisible string.
Time had made her even more beautiful than when she’d been a teenager. Stronger, too, if that was possible. He thought back to her show of bravery on the reserve trail yesterday. She’d defended Vanessa, despite facing a man she thought capable of murder. A man who stood over six feet tall. He’d seen her fear, but she’d defended her cousin despite that. It was the definition of courage—being afraid and doing what you had to do anyway.
She would have made a great soldier.
He’d seen a brief glimpse of her family shielding her like the fragile wings of a butterfly after what happened in high school, shutting her away from the rest of the world. Including him. He’d heard that she testified in court, facing whoever had abused her trust and plotted such a hideous act. He would have been there, praying for her, but he couldn't glean any information from Matt. The guy refused to discuss it. He’d prayed for her anyway, proud of her for having the courage to testify about whatever had happened.
And hurt when she disappeared from his life altogether.
It was for the best, though. He didn’t want to be the one to destroy that strength. Matt was right. He had to keep his distance. Jax dragged the chair away again from the scent of her coconut shampoo until only the hospital’s antiseptic cleaner filled his nostrils. He rubbed his thumb over the palm of the other hand. Tried not to move the chair closer to her again.
“Jax?”
He jerked his chin up to see Seyla run a hand over her hair. Confusion filled her eyes.
“Hey.” He ran his palms down his thighs. Rushed to explain. “Matt left for a minute to get some food to eat. He called the rest of your family.” At the alarm flooding her widening eyes, Jax added, “Don’t worry, he told them you were leaving soon and there was no point in coming.”
Seyla’s shoulders dropped. “Good.”
Jax eyed her. “They think you’re pretty fragile, don’t they?”
She shook her head. “Yeah.”
“For what it’s worth, I—”
Her phone rang. She shot a brief glance at the screen and flashed Jax an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s work. Do you mind if I answer?”
“No. Of course not.”
She talked to the person for a couple of minutes and hung up. “We have some people coming to visit ahead of a major grant renewal. Everything has to be perfect.”
Jax watched her run a finger across the phone’s screen, then glance at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
Seyla fiddled with the phone a bit longer, biting her lip. “I-I noticed you got a phone call at my Ate Merida’s house that upset you.”
Jax’s insides solidified. He left the silence hang between them, unsure what to say. Not wanting to say anything.
“Are you okay? You appeared to be pretty upset.”
Jax stood up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m fine. That…uh…it was a person I used to know. Not much to talk about.” Instant regret for his harsh tone hammered at him. He dropped into the chair again, ignoring the hurt lingering in her eyes. Not a topic open for discussion. Seyla needed a friend, not someone to haul their baggage out of their own closet and dump it on her. Besides, he was over it. It was the past. It was done.
Jax studied his knee, avoiding eye contact.
A hand slipped over his forearm, resting on it. He didn’t want to enjoy her touch, but it reminded him of coming home to a warm fire after a week-long winter survival course. He stared at the tanned, fine-boned hand on his arm. At the small scarsscattered over its surface. Something crushed inside his chest. Would he ever be enough to protect her?