Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

The moment I saw my bank account, I called Connor. “You made a mistake.” I skip the pleasantries and cut to the point.

“I can assure you I didn’t.”

I pace the small hallway of my flat. “You told me last week I was only being paid for the months I completed. This is definitely not the price we agreed upon.” I check the bank statement one more time to make sure I’m seeing things right. “Hell, this isn’t even the bonus price we signed about.”

He sighs. “I shouldn’t have said something like that when I was angry. You worked hard to help Jax and I shouldn’t hold his mistake against you. As for the bonus, consider it hazard pay.”

“Hazard pay?”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“You know, for Jax being an arsehole and messing with your reputation. For keeping to your NDA and not sharing anything Jax might have said or done during your time together.”

“I can’t accept this kind of money for that.” Even I have values and accepting two-hundred thousand euros for a failed job feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation.

Does Jax breaking my heart hurt? Yes.

Does it deserve a price tag of an extra year’s worth of pay? Definitely not.

“I don’t know what to say.” I sigh.

“Say you’ll accept it and move on. I’ve got a meeting to run to and I don’t have time to chat and gossip about boys together.”

I let out a soft laugh. “Yet you’re the first one to gossip.”

“Fine. You caught me. Seriously, it was nice talking to you, but I need to go. Good luck with your grandmother and I wish you the best of luck out there.”

Grandmother? I don’t remember mentioning her to Connor. I say thank you and hang up, chalking up the situation to Elías’s big mouth. I lean my head against the back of the couch and whisper my thanks to God.

There are good people out there, I only need to search for them in the right places.

“You look exhausted.” Caleb brings the FaceTime camera closer to his face.

To put it nicely, I look like shit because my sleep has never been worse. I refuse to sleep with lights anymore, not after everything Jax said. The fear and bad memories have always been my weakness and maybe Jax is right. Not everything he said, but a small part. I need to face my fear to let go of the nightmares trapping me. But things like this take time, seeing as I’ve had nightmares six out of seven nights.

He taps on the screen, getting my attention. “Come on, turn that frown upside down.”

“How about now?” I offer him a tight smile.

“Hideous and fake. Cut the crap, Elena. It’s been a week already and you’ve barely left your apartment.”

“I barely left my apartment before I had a job traveling around the world.”

“Har, har. Hilarious. Don’t make me fly out there and kick your arse.”

My eyes narrow. “I’d like to see you try. Let me see those arms again.”

“Put away the puzzle, get some clothes on that don’t look like they belong in a Goodwill fashion show, and go outside after I hang up.”

“Wow, thank you. With your charm, you should call me more often. It’s doing wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Oh, please. You had Jax Kingston lusting after you, so I can’t say you’re hard on the eyes.” Caleb laughs until he coughs.

“Are you okay?”

He waves me off. “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about. I wasn’t sure if you were in the same bad mood as Jax, and from the looks of it, you’re almost as bad as he is.”

My heart dips at the mention of Jax. “Caleb, as much as I want to talk to you, I don’t want to talk about Jax.”

“You don’t even want to hear how he’s been?”

“No.”

“Or how miserable he is without you? He looks like a mess during his interviews. Guy’s got the darkest under-eye circles even Sephora can’t fix.”

Now that’s interesting. My eyebrow raises, but my lips remain in a neutral line. “Not even that.”

“Okay, well too bad, I’m going to tell you anyway. He looks like week-old trash without you. I’ve never seen a man look as down and depressed about dumping someone. Isn’t that weird to you?”

I expected Jax to be better off without me. After everything he said, I thought he wanted to be done with me.

Of course, he does. No one says the stuff he did to someone they want to be with.

“I think you’re reading into things too much.” I pull at the loose strand of a throw blanket. “You’re young and haven’t been in a relationship. Words he said can’t be taken back with an apology.”

“I may be young, but I’ve been through shit. And I’m not stupid or blind. I don’t know what he said to you, but by the looks of him, it’s eating him up inside.”

“Great, he’s human after all,” I mumble under my breath.

“Look, something about this isn’t right. He obviously isn’t happy without you. He got seventh place last race. Seventh! Racers like him don’t go from podium finishes to mid-tier. Not when he’s a couple of races away from beating Noah for the title! Hello, he hasn’t won a Championship in years.”

“That’s a shame.” My flat voice doesn’t match the concern worming its way into my brain. I shouldn’t care about Jax’s performance risking his chance at the World Championship, but I find it hard to not empathize.

Here I am, experiencing the same empathy that got me into this mess to begin with.

“Oh, shut up.” Caleb sighs. “Maybe he’s sick.”

I roll my eyes. “Sick from what? Breaking his own heart?”

“Now she finally gets it,” Caleb whispers up to the ceiling.

I let out a laugh. “And what, oh wise one, do you suggest I do?”

Caleb smiles. It would look rather sinister except his horn-rimmed glasses take away from the look. “You? Nothing. Him? Everything.”

I remain quiet because I’m afraid to ask. I’m grateful for Caleb. He and Elías have kept me sane over the past week as I processed my breakup with Jax. Without them, I’d be knee-deep in takeout food and cheap wine to numb the ache.

Caleb looks off to the side. “Ugh, Elena, someone came in to check my vitals. I’ll message you later?”

“Sure thing. Bye.”

I hang up and go back to preparing dinner. The entire time, I struggle to get my mind off what Caleb said. The only question running through my head is why.

Why does Jax struggle after ending everything with us?

Why do I care what happens to him?

Why do I feel the urge to call and check on him despite how awful he treated me?

I erase the last question from my mind, not allowing myself to care for another second. I eat a sad dinner for one before crawling into my bed. Darkness floods the room as I shut off the last light and pull the covers up to my chin.

My heart races for a few minutes before settling down. I drift to sleep, hoping for no more nightmares.

I run from my bed to my kitchen after smelling my burnt dinner. Smoke billows from the oven as I open the door, cursing to myself for forgetting to set a timer.

“Great. Pasta it is.” I put on my oven mitts and grab the pan out of the oven. A cough escapes me as I fan the air around me.

They say talking to oneself is a sign of insanity, but I happen to find it rather comforting lately. I’m always used to being busy. I’ve been a hard worker since university, and I find it hard to wind down like I have lately.

Hence the recent attempt to try new recipes.

My phone rings in the other room. I ignore it as I fill up a pot of water. The ringing starts back up again. Leaving behind the half-filled pot in the sink, I exit the kitchen and find my phone hidden somewhere within the covers of my bed. My phone stops ringing before I have a chance to answer.

It beeps with a new voicemail. I unlock it and press play, curious about the new number.

“Hi, Ms. Gonzalez. This is James Mitchell, the team principal of Bandini. I didn’t have the chance to meet you while you were working with McCoy, but I’ve heard good things from Connor and Noah about your work. I’m in need of a PR agent who can help my team with press conferences and managing their image. We need someone who works remotely from Monaco but can be on standby for last-minute flights and conferences. If this is something you’re interested in, please get back to me no later than this Friday to discuss the logistics. If not, I will take your silence as a rejection and move onto someone else. Have a great day.”

Oh my God. No way.

First Connor’s news a few days ago, and now this. I can’t be this lucky.

Can I?

I mean I pray and all, but I didn’t think God worked in this many mysterious ways. Clutching my phone to my chest, I flop onto my bed, thanking whomever is up there helping me.

Despite everything that happened to me in the past week, I smile and thank God for the little blessings.

Peace only lasts a few hours before I wake up alone and in the dark, crying out for my lost parents. Fear paralyzes me as I catch my breath. The nightmare reminds me of how truly alone I am, and I cry myself to sleep.

Darkness wins tonight, stealing away my happiness.

The ringing of my phone wakes me. My eyesight is half blurry as I grab it off my nightstand.

“Hello?” my voice rasps.

Silence on the other end of the phone prompts me to check out who called. Hindsight: should have done that before I answered. Mierda.

“Jax?”

Heavy breathing and rustling of sheets tell me he’s still on the line.

“Why the hell are you calling me this late? Actually, why the hell are you calling me at all?”

“I don’t know,” he slurs.

Great. Mark getting a drunk booty call from an ex off my bucket list.

“So, you called me because you’re drinking again.”

“No.” He answers too quickly.

“I don’t want to talk to you. And I especially don’t want to talk to you when you are drunk.”

“I didn’t mean to drink tonight.”

“Yet you somehow are slurring your words.”

“I drank by myself—” he hiccups “—in my hotel room to celebrate my win.”

“Congratulations, you won most likely to be an asshole for the rest of your life and the Singapore Grand Prix in one weekend. You must be so proud.”

He sighs. “I’m not proud. I’m surviving.”

“Why did you call me?” I enunciate my words with a hint of bitterness.

“You want the truth?”

“With you, maybe the lie is better this time. Your version of the truth is a bit brutal for my taste.”

“Okay. Lies it is. I don’t miss you.”

My heart clenches in my chest. “I’m hanging up now.” Yet I can’t find the will to press the red button on the screen.

“Lie. I’m happy without you.” He sighs. “I don’t think of you at all. I don’t wake up every morning, dreaming you’re there, only to realize none of it is real. Lies, lies, lies.”

My frustration grows as he toys with me. “You don’t get to call me, drunk and alone, saying you miss me when you pushed me away. I’m not here to console you. You ruined everything for me.” You ruined us.

“I know,” he says somberly. “I only wanted to hear your voice. It was selfish of me.”

“Why do it then?”

“To remind me why this is all worth it. The pain, the loneliness—all of it. To not give in and beg you to take me back.”

“Jax… I don’t know what you want me to say.” My heart aches in my chest, dull and throbbing at his admission. I can’t begin to understand the complexity of his mind.

“Nothing. This was enough, so thank you for answering. Sorry I called. It won’t happen again.” He hangs up before I can respond.

My confusion turns into anger before devolving into sadness. I don’t understand Jax’s true reason for calling me, but I do know he left a hole in my heart the size of his fist.