His thumb smoothed over my jaw as his gaze settled on mine again. “I spent all day yesterday mad at you, at us, at myself.”

Well, these were things I really didn’t want to hear right now, but I sensed that whatever he needed to say, he had to get it out of him, so I remained quiet as I watched him.

A muscle twitched at the corner of his eye. “All day,” he said, shaking his head again. “A whole fucking day wasted on stupid shit and I should know better. I tasted that kind of regret, you know, with my sister. Spending so much time being angry with Jena that when she was gone, I couldn’t even begin to tally up all those missed hours I could’ve spent being there for her.”

“Jax,” I whispered, my heart squeezing.

He rested his weight on his other arm, careful not to disturb the bed or me, though I wasn’t sure how much I’d feel at this point. “The point is, I was angry, but it didn’t change how I felt about you or what I want from you. I’m not perfect. Far from it, and I was just being a dick. I could’ve called you and made sure you understood that. I could’ve returned your text. I didn’t. I thought maybe we both needed some space to cool down so that when we did talk, we could do so. And last night, when I went to the club, Aimee showed up.”

Now I remembered that, too, and that sick feeling rose, more muted than before, and for that I was grateful.

“That pissed me off even more. I left. She followed me outside. We had it out in the middle of a fucking parking lot. And I swear, even the messiest breakup with someone I was in an actual relationship with was easier than talking to her. She won’t be a problem anymore, but damnit, it was more wasted time. After that, I went back to my place. I planned on coming back to the bar to get you before closing. I didn’t think you were going to leave early, but I was coming for you. I just never made it.”

When he spoke next, the hoarseness to his voice, the very real pain in it, got to me. “I was getting ready to leave. I had my keys in my fucking hand, Calla. I was almost out the door. I was thinking about texting you and my phone rang. It was Colton. I almost didn’t answer, because I knew they still could be partying and I wasn’t in the mood for the shit, but I did answer. And he told me that he’d just been called by one of the deputies, that there had been a shooting at the bar and someone was injured. That was all he knew, and fuck, babe, my heart . . . it did what it did when I got the call from my parents. It was a sick as fuck feeling, like I wasn’t standing but I was. I tried calling you and when you didn’t answer, I knew—I just knew, because if there had been a shooting at the bar, you would’ve answered the phone if you could.”