Saving Ella by Kirsty Dallas Read Free Book Online Page B

glance.
                  “You’re a soldier?” I asked the words so low I wondered if he would even hear me.
                  “Was,” Jax wiped his mouth politely with a napkin. “I served for nine years, right out of school. I finished up my last tour a bit over eight months ago.”
                  “You didn’t like it?” I was genuinely curious. Even though he was built like a soldier, he didn’t exactly look military. His hair was too long, his eyes too gentle and warm. He nodded towards my food.
                  “Tell you what, I’ll talk if you eat.” I glanced at my food; it smelt delicious. He didn’t need to make me a deal to force me to eat it. But the chance to sit and listen to this beautiful man was too much to refuse. I should have been scared of Jax. I was always reluctant and cautious around men and large men like this one usually just freaked me out. However, sitting here alone in this kitchen with Jax felt unusually comfortable and there seemed to be no hostility in him, no hatred or violence. Not like Marcus where the hatred in that man’s stare was almost as punishing as his fists. The violence he had brought to my world not only left me physically scarred but emotionally scarred. All it took was a raised voice for my heart to break into a panicked stutter and the violence of a fight, fists hitting, pushing, screaming all sent me into a full blown panic attack. I had other triggers too. If someone came at me from behind, I would lose my shit, the smell of cigars made my stomach turn, big men dressed in expensive suits sent me into run and flee mode, basically any memory that was associated with Marcus caused me to slip into a panic that would cause my lungs to squeeze close until I either passed out or regained control.
                  “Hey,” Jax’s gentle voice bought me straight back to Mercy’s kitchen where I realized I was rubbing my wrists as the memories threatened to drag me away from this moment. “Lost you there for a minute,” he noted. Letting my hair fall forward again, protecting me from his knowing gaze I scooped up some beef and put it in my mouth. Delicious!
                  “I didn’t hate the army. I was good at it. Moved my way up the ladder quickly, but in the end I was more interested in saving lives, rather than taking them. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in what our soldiers are doing for our country and others, but it just wasn’t for me.” I nodded as I greedily shoved food in my mouth.  
                  “I like to build things. I’ve built a lot of the furniture here in the shelter. I’ve set myself up a small construction company. Little jobs, sometimes sheds, shop fit outs. I’ve helped build a couple of homes for friends, for Mercy, even my own.” I glanced at his hands, big, strong, calloused hands. They were nothing like Marcus’s soft hands that only knew violence and hate. Jax’s hands were made to create and protect. I looked at my own hands. A little soft from my last job, eight weeks washing dishes, easy work, crap money. It had been a long time since charcoal had colored my fingers. Almost twelve months to be exact, and over the last four years there were only four portraits that had I sketched and they currently lay safely folded at the bottom of my backpack. Sketching brought me painful memories of what could have been. However much I loved to do it, I just couldn’t bring myself to keep it up.
                  “There you go again.” Jax was watching me carefully. “Am I boring you?” He teased. I blushed like a school girl and rolled my eyes at my ridiculous bashfulness. We finished up our meals. Jax talked, I listened. I enjoyed his voice, it was strong yet gentle and always enthusiastic, like even the most insignificant moment was important. He told me all about the shelter and a little more about his business. He never asked