Not wanting to be the only one getting off, I finally manage to make my hands move to the hem of his Superman T-shirt, instead of clawing at his back like some wild animal. Knowing what I want, Jax lifts his body off me to help me take off his shirt, at least that what I assumed. When he doesn’t remove his shirt, but instead puts it back into place, I know this isn’t going where I thought it was.

“We’re back to this?” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond, either because he doesn’t hear me or because he doesn’t know what to say. I’m going with the latter.

I close my eyes because I know if I see him right now, I will more than likely punch him in his stupid, beautiful face. He moves his body weight off me. I sit up. He doesn’t need to say it, to tell me that the moment is gone. He surprises me by reaching for my hand, but like the child that I am, I snatch it back and turn so that I’m facing the window again.

I don’t need to say anything to Jax because he knows how I feel. If he wants to keep playing these hot and cold games with me, then fine. I’m done. And he wonders why I won’t let him in. Hmm that’s a tough one. I’m fine stewing in my anger all by myself, but when he chuckles, I lose it.

I turn around and surprise the both of us by slapping him across the cheek. I quickly get over my shock and close my mouth. I almost feel bad for how hard I slapped him. My palm stings and there’s a clear handprint on his cheek. But then I hear his chuckle in my head and I get angry all over again.

On its own accord, my hand goes to slap him again, but Jax is much faster than I am. He captures my wrist before it can connect with its target. All of my pent-up fury comes rushing forward and I try to smack him with my other hand. Just as quickly, he’s holding that wrist too. I can’t help it, I laugh. Wrong move.

He’s seething; his jaw keeps popping from clenching it too tightly. His entire body hums with anger, just like mine, but yet I can’t stop laughing. He narrows his eyes at me, which would make a lesser woman feel intimidated, and I laugh even harder. I don’t know what makes Jax more upset: me laughing at him or the fact that I slapped him. I’m gonna go with a little bit of both. His stern gaze reminds me of someone trying to throw daggers with their eyes.

Deep breaths. Control yourself. Repeating this mantra somehow helps me calm down.

“Oh God . . . It hurts . . . I better have abs for days,” I say once I’m able to catch my breath.

I playfully nudge Jax with my shoulder. The games is us, and as much as I hate them, I would hate for him to play with anyone else.

He nudges me back and I know I’m forgiven. How? I have no idea. I caress his still red cheek. It’s warm to the touch. I trace the outline of my hand with my fingertips. Before I even have a chance to apologize, he beats me to it.

“Don’t, Ads. It’s fine.”

Because I just can’t seem to help myself when it comes to hitting Jax, I lightly slap his other cheek. “I wasn’t going to apologize for hitting you, jackass. You deserved it . . . I just didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. I go to move my hand, but before I do, he bites my palm with enough pressure to leave teeth marks. “Yeah, you definitely deserved that slap.”

As he moves closer to me, I notice that we’re stopped at Central Park. I give Jax my what-the-heck face because I have no idea why we’re here. I also have no idea how long we’ve been here because of course my full attention was consumed by The God-like creature next to me. I assumed he was taking me back to my apartment. Man, was I wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve that slap after all? No, he deserved it. He’s had it coming for awhile now.

Jax smirks, gets out of the car, and offers me his hand once he comes around to my side. “Trust me,” he whispers into my ear before blindfolding me.

I try not to panic when my world submerges in darkness, but my body isn’t listening to me. I’m already sweating, my pulse beats rapidly. I’m positive I’m about to go into heart failure any second now. I can’t seem to breathe in enough air into my lungs. I remind myself that I’m out in the open with Jax to ward off the full-blown panic attic that is about to hit from memories of the car crash.

Jax is with me. I’m safe. He won’t let anything happen to me. Even as I repeat the words, I have vivid flashbacks from being trapped in the car that night. I can hear glass shattering, followed by an earth shattering scream, then silence. The silence is the worst. My body shakes involuntary. The memories reel me in and I lose the tiny hold I had on staying in the present.

I struggle to focus but something keeps blocking my view, making it impossible to see what is going on. I attempt to wipe whatever it is away, but my right hand isn’t working correctly. I try again and instantly feel excruciating pain. I scream at the top of my lungs. I struggle to use my other hand but I can’t . . . It’s stuck. I black out.

When I regain consciousness, whatever is gushing down my face has begun to dry. I lick my lips and taste blood. It dawns on me what my face is covered in. Blood . . . my blood. I know it isn’t good that I keep blacking out, and how much blood I’ve lost. The accident comes back full force and I’m suddenly aware of what’s happening.

The blinding light . . .

Glass shattering . . .

Screaming . . .

I turn to the right to see Hadley’s head down. She’s barely breathing. I panic. “Hadley!” I scream.

I want to reach her, but I can’t move. I’m trapped. The pelting of the heavy rain is the only noise not drowned out by my screaming. I can’t see my dad but I have a clear view of my mom. She’s hanging forward, not moving either. Darkness takes over again before I can scream for help again. . . .

I’m yanked back into reality when Jax’s lips press firmly to mine. It takes a while to kiss him back, but when my lips finally move against his, he pulls back enough to whisper, “Stay with me. Don’t go away again,” against my lips and then he’s kissing me again.

The memories drift away, but continue to taunt me at the edge of the surface, never letting me forget. Being blindfolded doesn’t help, though knowing that Jax is here and understands helps keep the memories at bay.

“Trust me, Ads.” he murmurs into my ear.

I think I nod but I’m not sure. His hand grips mine. He lifts our intertwined fingers to his lips and kisses the back of my palm. I take another deep, calming breath, welcoming the clean air. As I breathe in, I breathe out the smell of burnt rubber that exist only in my memory. Jax leads the way to an unknown destination. I have a sinking feeling that he’s taking me to my favorite place in Central Park, but I have no way of knowing.

When I start to panic again, he squeezes my hand, letting me know that I’m safe. I focus on my breathing and the panic eases up. I know that we look ridiculous because we’re barely moving and we keep stopping every few feet so that I can catch my breath, but I don’t care. I’m conquering a fear of lack of control because of Jax. He’s extremely patient with me, always whispering sweet nothings into my ear to remind me where I am. If I was with anyone else, I seriously doubt that I would be able to do this without being trapped into the past.

As he continues to lead me around Central Park, I finally relax. The tension in my shoulders subsides and with each squeeze of Jax’s strong hand holding mine, my pulse slowly returns to a much more normal pace. Being blindfolded is still one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in awhile, but with each step, I feel stronger for being able to relinquish control to someone else.