Chapter 173
806 Words
Jax pointed his chin behind Jim. “Passed out again. I put her in the room she’s been staying in. Come on, this way.”
Jim followed Jax down the hallway, past several closed doors. Jim knew what went on in these back rooms, or crash rooms, as they were fondly called. Each one had a bed, a sofa, some tables, and an attached bathroom.
They were open to any bar patron who wanted to use them, and when he’d first moved to Denver three years earlier, so full of rage and hatred about his time in Afghanistan, Jim had taken advantage of these rooms. More than once, with more than one woman. He didn’t do that now – though he sure as hell hadn’t stopped the one-nighters. He just had them at his place now. Somehow, that felt like progress to him.
“You said she’s been staying here full-time?” Jim said.
Jax shrugged his huge shoulders. “Yeah. The past four days.”
“Shit.” Jim shook his head. “She say anything?”
“Not really. She’s just been drinking.” Jax stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall, then hesitated. “Crying too, today.”
Jim’s gut twisted. “Crying?”
“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t say why, wouldn’t talk about it, but I kept an eye on her. So did my bartender and security guys, but there are a few ex-cons and MC members out there tonight, and I don’t trust ‘em. They were watching your friend and I didn’t like it.”
“Thanks, man.” Jim shook Jax’s hand again. “I appreciate it. Anything to settle with the bar?”
“Yeah. I’ll get her tab.” Jax grinned, his dark green eyes dancing. “Brace yourself, Jim. She paid for the room but not her drinks – and the woman threw the shots back like water.”
Despite himself, Jim grinned back. “Awesome. Well, I didn’t need groceries this week, huh?”
They laughed, then Jax headed back to the main room, and Jim stood outside the door for another few seconds, reining in his temper.
OK, stay calm. If she’s as drunk as Jax says, yelling at her now makes no earthly sense, though it would feel amazing, no f*****g doubt about that. Best to haul her ass home and let loose tomorrow when she’s hungover. Yeah, that’s the plan.
Jim opened the door and looked into the dimly-lit room. He saw Kat lying on the bed, and he stepped in, shut the door behind him.
He approached her quietly and stood over her for a few seconds, just taking her in.
The last time he’d seen Kat, her hair had been blonde and long, almost to her pert ass. She’d obviously removed the extensions, though, and now her hair was almost aggressively short and dark brown. It was his preferred color on her, as it brought out her porcelain skin and clear, moss-green eyes. But seeing as the woman changed her hair length and color every two weeks or so, he could never be sure that he’d see it.
She was sleeping heavily, her breathing slow and deep, and his heart ached when he saw tear stains on her cheeks. Gently, he reached out and touched them, then froze when she moaned and turned away from his fingers. The sound hit him in some deep, dark place, made him want to comfort her and hold her, and that made him angry again.
“Kat.” He knew his voice was harsh, but he couldn’t help it. “Kat. Wake up.”
She moaned again.
“Kat.” He shook her. “It’s Jim.”
Her eyes cracked open a tiny bit and he stared into them, taken aback at the dazed, almost bewildered, pain that he saw there. Right away, his anger disappeared and he became gentle. It had completely escaped him until this exact second that Kat was actually safe – that he’d found her in one piece. Seeing as anything at all could have happened to her, he supposed he should take a minute and be grateful for that.
He sat on the edge of the bed, ran his rough fingers through her hair. “Can you hear me, baby?”
“Jim?”
He flinched. Her voice was weak and full of something… sorrow? Fear? Memory?
“Yeah.” He raised her chin to meet his golden eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m going to get you home, OK?”
Kat groaned. “How’d you find me?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’m going to take care of you. Just relax, Kat. Let me help you, alright?”
She nodded, and closed her eyes again. In seconds, she was asleep.
- Writer
