Chapter 46 Jaxon

If I hadn’t known what to think before I was with her, I sure as hell wasn’t sure what to think now. Her mood had suddenly changed so abruptly that I felt like I had emotional whiplash. I knew what the issue was, of course. I wasn’t daft. She was scared. She was scared to be hurt by me, frightened that I might be a man like her father was. Had I even convinced her at that very moment that there was no way I could ever treat her like that, there hadn’t been time. So now, here I was, my head whirling and spinning as I tried to piece together everything happening and what had happened between us.
Next to me in her bed, Grayce stirred, one cheek resting on my bare chest and her free hand still holding mine, fingers curled around my own desperately, as though even in sleep, she was afraid to let go. She was asleep, finally, if not restlessly, but I was glad I stayed. Leaving her alone in these moments would be no better than something her father would have done, and I wasn't that person. She deserved better than that.
Being with Grayce tonight felt so good, so real. I’d been with many women in my college years, and they’d come and gone like a bump in the road, nothing to remember, everything to forget. But Grayce … Jesus, the girl had me on my toes every second of every day, and I was pretty sure she had no idea what she was doing to me. Had someone told me that I would learn to adore the drunk girl that puked in the bushes the first night I’d met her, I would have laughed in their face and probably insulted her, too. And now, I couldn’t think of anything else but her. I didn’t want to think of anyone else but her. I wanted to think of her, see her, and always be with her. I wanted to hold her in my arms and bring her close. I wanted to smell her perfume and bury my lips in her hair. I wanted to touch her soft, warm skin whenever I wanted to and kiss her every second. I wanted her. I wanted all of her.
However, it didn’t seem to matter what I wanted because Grayce wasn’t making this easy on either of us. She was insecure and frightened. She was a control freak; that had become abundantly clear in the time I’d known her, and I knew she felt like she was losing control by being with me. If I knew Grayce, losing control was something she was not about to do well, or easily for that matter. I couldn't blame her, not after what she'd been through.
Hearing about her father tonight had conjured a rage in the pit of my stomach that I hadn’t experienced in years. I wanted to find this man and beat him for laying a finger on Grayce and her mother. I wanted to make him suffer like he’d made her suffer all these years. I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp, honestly. I couldn’t imagine going through that as a young child, watching your father beat your mother senselessly right before you. A man was supposed to be the family's protector, a guardian, so to speak. My dad had never laid a hand on my mother, but the emotional abuse we’d endured over the years felt just as bad sometimes. Grayce’s issues directly resulted from her father, and she was hurting. Every moment, every day. How could one ever forget something like that?
Maybe she never would. Maybe it was up to me to help her along, encourage her, and be with her when she needed someone the most. I wanted to be that person for her, now and for the rest of our lives, until we grew old, gray, and senile.
I only hoped that she wanted the same thing.