Chapter 18: Taking Responsibility

JAXON'S POV:

My eyes bored into hers: hazel, warm and panicked eyes…and again, I felt that vague sense of familiarity from seeing her this close up.

She shook her head decisively and glared at me.

“How do I know you’re not the one who tried to rape me?” She snapped, her voice rising a pitch.

“Huh!” I was taken aback, I chugged the brandy down my throat. “I don’t have to force a girl to sleep with me.” I said and that was true.

There were many ladies out there, that’d give their right arm to sleep with me.

Many of them even threw themselves at me. I flexed my muscles a bit as I dropped the glass in the kitchen sink. All the time aware of her eyes, watching me.

She gulped, swallowing hard.

I chuckled. I had good looks and I had money and influence.

What else did I need to work myself over a lady for?

I stepped back and strolled over to the kitchen table and decisively ignored her.

If she was going to be ungrateful for me saving and accommodating her, I should’ve just let that guy have his way with her on the dance floor.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. “I don’t remember much from last night.” She added.

“You were drunk.”

So drunk that you had to dance almost naked under the spotlight and if not for me; you’d be on the front pages this morning.

“I’m a bit hungover.” She continued, earning herself a look from me.

“Just go over to your room. I’ll have someone arrange something to help you calm a bit.” I said.

She shook her head.

Now what?

“I appreciate you for your help; Mr. Jaxon. But I’d love to be on my way already.”

“Huh!” I studied her more intensely with narrowed eyes. I leaned back and pulled myself up to sit on the table.

Was she trying to avoid me again?

“Not so fast.” I muttered, eyeing her. Her eyes shot up.

“What?”

“You threw up all over my jacket.”

The frown on her face stiffened. “That’s not a problem then.” She paused. I chuckled.

“I could have someone deliver a new one.”

“This smile has closed billion-dollar deals and opened plenty of bedroom doors… yet here we are.”

I rolled my eyes. What did she really take me for?

“I don’t need a new one.” I said in a bored voice.

Her eyes thinned, and she glared again for the umpteenth time this morning.

Was glaring her official signature?

Right now she looked a sharp contrast from the woman that was drunk and dancing at the club last night. The one woman that held all eyes and turned heads last night.

She looked different. Was different.

“So what do you want?”

I crooked a finger in her face. “You threw up all over me in front of the entire club.” I paused, drawing in pleasure from her solemn expression. I smiled and said the next half of the statement softly. “I need compensation.”

“What compensation?”

Her tone was harsh again.

Couldn’t she even pretend to sound soft at least. I sighed loudly.

There was a basket filled with apples beside me, I dipped my hands in, reaching for one. All the time, without removing my gaze from her. I tossed the apple in the air. Caught it. Tossed it again…

“Let’s see.” I smirked; she folded her hands across her chest, watching me warily. Her stance made me chuckle.

“How about doing my laundry for a week?” I proposed, smirking still.

“You must be kidding,” she retorted immediately. “Out of your mind. You’re nuts..” she went on, ranting.

“Who do you think is going to clean off your puke?” I snapped cutting her midway through her cursing.

“Can’t you have someone else do that?”

“Someone else?” I scoffed, holding her gaze. “So you’re going to have someone else clean off your mess?”

“Isn’t that how you’ve always lived?” She snapped.

I stiffened, caught the apple in mid air.

“What do you mean?” I growled, dropping my calm demeanor.

I had never expected that reply?

She chuckled bitterly, ignoring the dark clouds already covering my face. She was teasing me.

My temper soared, the anger surged through my bloodstream. Hot and feral.

“Have you ever taken responsibility for any of your actions?” She continued.

My eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?” I repeated more fiercely. She probably didn’t sense it or just blatantly decided to ignore the threat in my voice.

“You’re always hiding behind your father’s wealth. Acting recklessly and causing havoc everywhere. And at the end have someone else take the fall. How dare you talk to me about responsibility and compensation?” Her temper was soaring even surpassing mine.

No one had ever spoken to me this way.

My face was reddened and contorted with rage. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words stuck right in my throat.

She was right!

I tossed the apple back in the basket and slipped off the table.

No one spoke.

Her rage was right, but still I saved her.

I saved her.

I glared at her, gritting my teeth.

“Well, I quite possibly saved you.” I said in choked tone. It was like a dagger had pierced through my heart, and cleaved it in half and it was bleeding.. and stinging…

I took a step closer. “I saved you. Don’t you think I deserve to be compensated for the mess you made.”

I stared down at her, her hair was still disheveled but much better than the night before. Our eyes locked into each other, feeling drowning the other voices in the room.

We stood there, glaring into each other’s eyes unflinching.

Her hazel eyes had lost their warmth, and only had hate. A deep hatred, I suddenly felt I deserved. Because she was God-damned right.

It was always someone cleaning my mess. Always, and for the first time I’d clean someone else’s, I was demanding compensation.

It was foolish.

I looked away, breaking the contact. A streak of sweat trickled down over my ribs. I pushed past her, stalking towards the fridge. I grabbed a bottle of water.

“You’re right.” I admitted.

“I’m taking my leave.” She cut me off dismissively, turning on the spot and heading towards the door.

She halted inches from it. I was watching her; my heart bleeding. Thumping.

She turned, arching her head up a bit so I could see her pretty face, staring back at me and seeing right through me.

“I’ll have someone deliver a new jacket.”

I said nothing.

She slipped out through the door, slamming it behind her. The sound reverberated through the house, shaking me up. I leaned back against the fridge heaving and panting.

My lungs had expelled the last traces of oxygen it had. Leaving me panting and gasping for air. I clutched the water bottle tightly. It creaked under the impact.

I gasped, trying to take in air through my mouth. My orifices seemed to have closed up, forcefully eliminating any form of oxygen from my body.

I keeled over, clutching my chest and waving the other hand helplessly to the wall. I staggered through the empty hallway, groaning loudly.

A simmering pain was burning through my lungs. My heartbeat was doubling over. I pushed my bathroom door and made for the chest of drawers just at the foot of my bed.

My pills were in there.

My pills were in there.

Locked away.