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Inside, they were greeted by the musty scent of old fabrics and the clinking sound of hangers shifting on racks. Jax couldn't help but feel a thrill as they sifted through the clothes, piecing together disguises that would help them blend into the town unnoticed.
"Check this out!" Mia exclaimed, holding up a pair of cat-eye sunglasses with a mischievous grin. She slipped them on and struck a pose, sending them both into another round of laughter.
"Looking good, kitten," Jax teased, playfully ruffling her hair. He could feel his heart swell at the sight of her genuine happiness, something he desperately wanted her to experience more often.
Jax put on a large waterproof trench coat. “What do you think?” he asked Mia. “Do I look like a detective?”
“More like someone who’s allergic to rain,” she said, laughing. “That thing really covers you up, huh?”
“All right, all right,” said Jax. “How about something a little more . . . rock ‘n’ roll?” He grabbed a black leather jacket studded with silver spikes. There was a large patch sewn onto the back of it with a picture of Death Valley.
Mia smirked. “You might have to take off your glasses. They don’t exactly mesh with the look.”
Jax took off his glasses and pocketed them, and Mia gave him a chef’s kiss. “Perfect.” She looked around the store. “Well, I guess if you’re going for the punk aesthetic, then I’ll join you.” She tapped a finger on her chin as she checked out a few items.
Mia found a pair of black ripped jeans and a vintage band tee that showed a little of her slim, toned stomach.
Jax couldn't tear his gaze away from her as he paid for their disguises at the counter. He grinned.
grinned. "Looking fierce, Mia. Ready to rock and roll?"
Mia winked. "Always ready, Daddy."
As they left the thrift store, Mia caught Jax's arm. "You know, it feels kinda freeing to be out here with you like this. We can be anyone we like.”
Jax squeezed her arm. “Youcanbe anyone you like, Mia. This is your chance to start again.”
Mia nodded. “Yeah. I know. I just . . . don’t know where to begin.”
“I’ll help you,” Jax told her.
"Alright, now for the main event," Jax declared, pulling Mia toward a small bookstore nestled between two cafes. The faint scent of aged paper and ink wafted from the open door, beckoning them inside.
“Now remember,” he whispered into her ear. “We’re just a couple of punks who love literature, here to buy some old-timey books.”
“Just a couple of totally normal, literature-loving punks,” Mia echoed. “Got it, Daddy.”
As they entered, Jax watched Mia's eyes widen in awe, a childlike wonder spreading across her face. Her fingers danced along the rows of books, reverently tracing their spines as if she were greeting old friends.
"Oh my, they have so many books by Kipling!" Mia exclaimed.
“They do? I’ll get you all of them,” said Jax, putting his glasses back on to look more closely. “If you haven’t read theJust Sostories yet, I think you’ll find them pretty special.”
“All of them?” Mia gasped.
“Sure, punk,” said Jax with a shrug. “He’s your favorite author, isn’t he?”
Mia grinned. “Well, so far he is. I don’t exactly own an extensive library.”
Jax nodded thoughtfully. “In that case, we’re not only getting Kipling today. I’m going to recommend a few others.”
As they continued to explore the bookstore, Jax said, “Kipling is good and all, but ultimately, he’s a white man and a colonialist. I think we might be able to find some authors that resonate with you on an even deeper level. Authors who feel your struggle, who have known your hardship, who have written stories that feel like they have a home in your heart.”
Mia arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Jax picked up a few books as they walked along. “Like this,” he said, picking upTheir Eyes Were Watching Godby Zora Neale Hurston. “It’s about a woman who was enslaved when she was young, but she goes on to become this incredible, fierce, independent woman.”
“How do you know about this one?”
