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Until Jax(3)

By:Aurora Rose Reynolds


“Yes, thank you,” I say, surprised to hear my voice crack again, but this time with emotions from having someone look out for me.

Nodding, she takes the cup back and sets a bag on the bed.

“Jax said you were small, so I just grabbed some of my yoga clothes for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble absently, watching her pull out a pair of black yoga pants and a tank with a jacket to go over it.

“Do you want to wash up a little in the bathroom?”

Following her gaze to a door I hadn’t even noticed, I nod. Taking the stuff, she helps me into the small room murmuring, “I’ll be out here if you need me,” closing the door behind her.

Turning on the water I don’t even look at myself in the mirror above the sink as I strip off my clothes and grab a few paper towels, soaking them. Scrubbing myself from head to toe, being careful of my hands, which are still sensitive from carrying a two-by-four around as a weapon.

Once I’m as clean as I’m going to get without a shower, I catch my reflection in the mirror and cringe. My dark hair is matted, my skin pale, and my brown eyes are sunken in, I look like hell run over. “You’re alive,” I remind myself, pulling on the yoga pants that are a little too long, but they are clean and thankfully fit. Putting on the tank, I cover it with the jacket, zipping it all the way up before slipping my sneakers back on and running a hand through my hair, watching as dried leaves and dirt fall to the floor. Giving up on getting the knots out, I pull it all up on top of my head and spin it into a bun, tucking the ends in so it stays in place.

“Everything fit,” I say when I step out of the bathroom, finding Lilly sitting on the bed with her head bent, like she’s deep in thought.#p#分页标题#e#

“I’m glad.” She smiles softly then her head tilts to the side, studying me. “Jax said you have a daughter.”

“I do.” I nod, taking my old clothes to the waist basket and dropping them in.

“And your mom did this to you?” she asks, catching me off guard with her question, making my body go solid in response.

Licking my lips, I turn to look at her. “She did.”

“Does she live near you?” she questions softly, looking me over.

“About twenty minutes away, with my aunt.”

“So…your daughter’s father?”

“He’s dead,” I say, feeling tears fill my eyes at the thought.

Hope isn’t my biological daughter. Edward, my brother, and his girlfriend, Bonnie, were hit head-on by a drunk driver. Both died on impact. Hope survived with only a few scrapes. I was granted custody of her the next day on my ninetieth birthday, when she was just four weeks old.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers quietly.

“It was a long time ago,” I say, wrapping my arms around my waist, trying to keep myself together.

“Do you have a job back home?”

My body stiffens further and I feel my eyes narrow. I know people make assumptions about me all the time because of where I live and how I grew up, but I went to school and got my hairdressing license right after highschool and have been on my own since then. I’ve worked hard at making a life for me and Hope, so her future will be brighter than Edward’s and mine. I know that’s what he wanted for her, and for me.

“I do hair,” I reply, just because I don’t want to be rude after how nice she has been.

“I know this is going to sound completely outlandish, but have you ever thought about moving and starting over somewhere else?” she inquires softly.

Sure, I had thought about it, but as a single mother, I was only able to save a few dollars here and there. Having a child isn’t cheap, and I refuse to use government assistance. My mother did it for years, even though she could have worked. “I’m only asking, because this is a nice place to live, a good place to raise a child.”

“Maybe someday,” I mutter, feeling uncomfortable.

“I was a single mother for awhile,” she says, surprising me. “I know how difficult it is to raise a child without having people around you can lean on. Not that I’m saying you don’t have that, but—”

“All I have is me,” I cut her off. Yes, I have a few friends, but no one I can trust. Not really, anyways, and family…I don’t have that either. It’s always been just Hope and me.

Her eyes go soft and she stands from the bed. “You could move here. My friend owns a salon in town. He’s always looking for help, and Jax already said you could stay with him until you got on your feet. He’s hardly home anyways.”

Stay with Jax?