Chapter Six (Like The Rain)

It was late, the light coming into the room was the bare glow from outside the window through the blinds and a sliver of light from the bathroom under the door. Missy rolled over in the bed, seeking Jax's extra warmth - he liked it cold and she didn't mind so much with a soft blanket and him at her back. Not that she'd actually admitted this, preferring to show instead how the cold air made her nipples hard just to watch his eyes get that sharp look in them. But right now she sighed, still mostly asleep as she ended up on her belly in his spot. Huh... murmuring as her brain processed he wasn't actually in the bed. The sheets were warm so he couldn't have been gone long, probably got up for a smoke? No, he hadn't had one in over a week. Eh. She snaked a hand up and pulled his pillow down to her chest, snuggling it as she rolled back to her side. It didn't take long for her to almost fall back asleep, her mind getting that warm and fuzzy darkness when she felt his weight shift the mattress as he got back into bed, a rough sounding chuckle as he realized his pillow was missing, maybe, and where it had gotten to. He reached over her and got it back, settling back in when she rolled over toward him, giving him a sleepy-sexy look before grabbing his bandaged hand and draping it over her waist, murmuring as her eyes drifted closed. "Stay... 'less you want me ...freezin'."

Stay.

The word, like so many other things that passed between them, had a thousand meanings. All of them were better than the emptiness he felt inside that was becoming more a thing with a capital letter, like it was taking on a life of its own. "Not going anywhere." He said it with a sort of finality, realizing that for the first time, he actually meant it.



I, Bradley Jackson, being of sound mind at the time of signing, do hereby waive and abdicate all parental rights to one Christian Bradley Alexander Jackson, the offspring produced in my union with Alyvia Roxanne Jackson (nee Nouvelle)...

The papers had been signed in triplicate and faxed back to Avery's offices in New York. They'd be waiting, ready to be filed first thing and the void that yawned inside him was so massive that sleep was completely out of the question. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those words, saw the wobble to his usually so crisp signature. There weren't any tears left to cry but it was raining and that white noise was reminding him of so many things: the night Shirlea had tried to carve him up with that decorative kitana, the night Shane had come back to him when he was in the middle of burning all her things in the rain, the night he'd gotten the call that Kitty had miscarried, the night Ryann had looked him in the eye and told him that she didn't know who she was anymore when she was with him – all rainy nights just like this one. He'd told her that he liked the rain but that was a lie. It was a twisted lyric of a Clint Black song, some inside snark meant to keep that appearance up. Of course he liked the rain. And thunder. And lightning too.

Maybe I'll dance in it for you then, she'd written, keeping up their endless game of dancing around the white elephant in the room. At least that had substance. It was familiar and gave him something to cling to when the rest of the world was spiraling out down the rabbit hole.

He found himself standing in the doorway, watching it slant sideways from the sky. Barefoot, he walked across the tar, feeling its residual warmth on his soles despite the cold, cold puddles. The ledge beckoned but he stopped dead center, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. It went from drizzle to deluge, the drops stinging like needles now but he sank to his knees, staring off into the distance at the lights of Miami. He had to keep telling himself that he was wrong. There wasn't anything between him and Missy. She was just being nice, a good friend, and a great trainer and sure, the chemistry was out of this world, but it was just inserting tab J into slot M at the end of the day. Anyone could do that – he didn't try to fool himself into thinking he was special for what he brought to the table, let alone the damned bedroom. The last time he'd done that, the last time he'd laid every card on the table, he'd ended up the joker...



He liked the rain. She told him that maybe she'd dance in it for him.

Soaked to the skin and on the roof, Missy twirled with her arms up to the sky, lashed by the wind and water but she didn't care. She was dancing, he was watching. She could feel those intense eyes of his, almost like a touch as the thin cotton of her tank top strained against her breasts as she moved. Bare feet on the tar coating of the roof pattered and splashed in the rain puddles, and she was lit from the flash of the latest bolt of lightning, the thunder shaking the building. She threw her head back and yelled at the storm, steps taking her closer and closer to the ledge that ran around the edge of the roof.

Do it.

Without a thought, she went to it, hands braced as she pushed herself up, swaying as she found her footing. Missy blinked the water from her lashes. It would be so easy. Just a step and then...

"Missy!"

Before she could move, forward or back a strong arm that felt like a steel band grabbed her around the waist, yanking her violently off her perch and she was falling. Her elbow hit the roof and pain flared from that damaged nerve, whirling up and down her arm like fire and she yelped, the sound eaten by the storm. Then he landed on her and her breath was driven out of her body, she sensed him yelling more than heard him and she fought to get free.

"I wasn't! I wasn't going to..." Wasn't she? She examined her words because she promised to always tell him the truth and she shook her head, the wet strands of her hair sticking to her skin. "I wasn't... I didn't mean to."

He pushed himself up, staring down at her and she tried to sit up but he wasn't letting go. "I wasn't, okay? Jesus Christ, Jax!" She eased back to try and make eye contact, to let him see that, but she just couldn't stop talking. "I want to love you, you know? But I'm scared I don't even know how. I'm more scared if I tell you that you can't love me back, and that's so fucked up. You deserve to be loved, even if it's not me. But I don't even know..."

Another flash of lightning lit him enough that she could see his face, and then Missy screamed for all she was worth because it wasn't Jax after all. Faceless, grim, she knew the moment she saw that this wasn't Jackson, this was the Silence that haunted her. Completely freaked out she fought, shoving and hitting to try and get away, screaming and screaming...

...until she sat up in bed, soaked not with rain but cold sweat. Her throat held that peculiar sort of rawness that told her that she'd actually been screaming and she ran her hands through her hair, fingers catching in some of the knots that her thrashing had caused. Thunder crashed outside and she startled, a creep of hot blush on her cheeks as she finally got aware enough to look at the side of the bed he usually occupied. Empty. There was a strange mix of relief and something else as she realized he must have gotten up before her, at least he hadn't been there to witness this.

Missy took a deep breath, sliding out of the bed and heading for the bathroom. She wanted a hot shower, first. And maybe, if she was going to dance in the rain for Jax... the parking lot would be a much better location.



The shower was already going, the bathroom filled with steam when he padded across the floor, leaving wet footprints in his wake. The sodden workout shorts hung so low on his narrow hips that they were in danger of falling off as he slipped inside the bathroom. They hit the floor with a dull splat and then he slipped into the shower behind her.

His arm snaked around her middle and he pulled her against him. She shivered at the juxtaposition of his frigid skin against her back and the warm spray against her front.

"So cold," she murmured, the hoarseness of her voice mistaken for sleepiness.

His arms tightened, his eyes closing as he nuzzled his nose against her neck, burrowing past her thick, wet hair. "Mmmm... I know. Warm me up?" There was a plaintive note to the question even though it was his usual flirty fare.

She reacted to that, melting back against him as she let out a soft little chuckle. "Sure, Boss." Her eyes were closed as his hands roamed over her body, his lips against her neck, nipping at her skin between words.

"I was on the roof..." he whispered the confession, trying to make it sound sexier than it really was, "with my hand in my pocket, thinking 'bout you."

"On the roof?" Her eyes opened. She braced a hand against the wall in front of herself as the dream came rushing back, those words that she'd never be able to say when she was awake suddenly there on the tip of her tongue.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing her shoulder, oblivious to her tension because he couldn't see her face, "in the rain, almost naked. Wasn't any good, though. You weren't there."

"I'm here." It took her a few seconds to find her voice, those words coming out softly.

"I know," Jackson replied, "and I love you so much for that." What he said didn't even dawn on him, the context of that four-letter l-word drop not even registering beyond needing her to know how much he appreciated these little tokens, the way she freely gave herself to him without a second thought or hesitation. The water pattered against the glass, reminding him of rain as she turned in his embrace, slippery and supple, her lips finding his for a fierce kiss.

I like the rain, he thought.