Chapter 6

My first thought was Rafe. There, sitting neatly inside the box, were several packs of tampons and pads of different brands, different sizes, a variety of options that seemed almost too thoughtful. And tucked alongside them were a few blister packs of painkillers, the kind I would normally get from a pharmacy run. It was exactly what I needed, and I hadn’t even had the chance to ask for it.

Rafe must’ve done this. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would have bothered. He had been kind enough to offer me a ride into town, even if I’d embarrassed myself by asking. And now, somehow, he had made sure I had what I needed without me asking.

I stared at the box for a moment longer before placing it down on the small table. It was still early afternoon, but I decided to take a shower before I headed to the garage to thank him. It wasn’t just about the supplies, it was about feeling like someone had seen me, had understood what I needed when I couldn’t even admit it to myself. It felt good. And I hadn’t felt good in a long time.

I emerged from the shower, feeling a bit more human. I changed into a simple outfit, dark jeans and a plain shirt and ran a brush through my hair. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t entirely out of place in this strange new world.

I made my way through the garage, nodding at a few of the guys working on various projects, until I spotted Mouse near the back. He was bent over some parts, his focus entirely on the small pieces in front of him.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“Hey, Mouse,” I said, walking toward him. “Have you seen Rafe? I was hoping to thank him for something.”

Mouse looked up, blinking in mild surprise. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be shocked by much, but my voice had clearly caught him off guard.

“Raphael?” he asked, squinting a little as if to double-check I was talking about the right person. “Nah, he hasn’t been back from town yet.”

I felt a little confused at the statement.

“He hasn’t gotten back yet?” I repeated, the question hanging in the air.

“Yeah,” Mouse said, his tone neutral. “Been gone all day.”

That was strange. Rafe had been gone all day? But then... who brought the box? The thought churned in my stomach, unsettling me. Maybe it wasn’t him after all. But who else could it be?

I felt my confusion growing, my thoughts tangled. I couldn’t just ask Mouse, not directly. I couldn’t be sure, but I could’ve sworn he didn’t look like he was the one who had dropped the box off. If he had been the one, he probably would have said something, wouldn’t he?

Just as I started to turn to leave, I caught sight of Jax walking through the garage door. His eyes met mine for a split second, and something clicked in my chest.

It couldn’t be... could it?

I froze for a moment, staring at Jax as he made his way further into the shop. My mind raced, and despite everything, I felt like I was starting to understand. The pieces fit, even though I couldn’t explain how.

Jax.

I couldn’t be sure, but something inside me told me it had been him who left the box. I didn’t understand why he would do it, but I felt it. I had to know.

Taking a hesitant breath, I walked toward him, my feet almost dragging as I approached.

“Jax,” I started, my voice unsure, “did... did you leave something at my door? A box? With, um... pads and things?”

Jax looked up. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice casual, like it was no big deal. “That was me.”

I blinked, the simplicity of his response catching me off guard. He didn’t act like it was something to be embarrassed about, or like it was some grand gesture. It was just something he had done, and that was it.

“Why?” The question escaped before I could stop myself.

Jax didn’t flinch. He just shrugged. “You needed it. Figured I’d help.”

I waited, unsure of what to expect, but Jax’s response was as nonchalant as ever. His hands moved steadily over the workbench as if this was all just part of the routine.

“Why?” I asked again, the question still hanging in the air. “Why did you do it?”

He glanced up at me, “Figured it’d save you a trip.”

It was a flimsy excuse. But it was all he gave.

I stood there, processing the simplicity of it, but part of me felt like I should dig deeper, ask more questions. Why me? Why did he care enough to bring a box of something so personal? But something told me not to push it.

I took a breath, forced a small smile, and nodded. “Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He didn’t acknowledge the sincerity in my voice. Instead, his gaze dropped back to the workbench, focusing on the task at hand, and he gave a small wave with his hand, as if the conversation was over.

“And I'm sorry,” I added quickly, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “For the other night.”

His shoulders tensed slightly, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered under his breath. “Just... go get some rest. You look like you’re about to faint.”

I realized he was right. I hadn’t eaten all day, hadn’t had much water either, and it was only hitting me now how drained I felt.

I paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “Yeah,” I said quietly, “I think I will.”

I didn’t bother to press him any further. It was clear this wasn’t the time for small talk, He was still as elusive as ever, and I knew I couldn’t force him to give more than he was willing to share.

“Thanks again,”