“No!” He tore off the other bandage and hurled it at Jax, who let it bounce off his chest without moving. “Brody and his damn mouth! He had no right! It’s my body, it’s my decision, it’s my fucking business, and he goes and tells you!”
Jax waited for the echo of the scream to die away against the gym walls. Then he crossed his arms.
“He’s worried.”
“I don’t give a shit if he’s worried.”
“And if he didn’t tell you directly, it’s because he knows you would have ripped his head off. He thinks I’m more on your side.”
Ren opened his mouth to reply and closed it. Because Jax was right, and that infuriated him more than Brody’s indiscretion. Yes, Jax and he had built something during those training sessions. A kind of shared code that worked through blows and silences and the occasional truth spoken between gasps. Ren trusted Jax differently than he trusted Brody. Cleaner. Without the weight of the bond clouding everything.
But that didn’t give Brody the right to use that trust as a shortcut.
“Whatever. I didn’t have to tell you anything. It’s not even certain.”
“Exactly.” Jax leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s uncertain. It’s a suspicion. And we confirm or rule out suspicions; we don’t leave them to fester in our heads.
“I know.”
“Then get tested.”
“I’ll do it when I feel like it.”
Jax looked at him with that calm of his that was worse than any shout.
“Look, Ren, I’m old enough to be an uncle. More than old enough. So make up your mind and get tested because I can’t stand the uncertainty.”
“Uncle?” Ren let out a dry laugh that scratched his throat. “Did you really just call yourself an uncle?”
“Uncle Jax. It sounds good.”
“It sounds like a nightmare.”
“Get tested.”
“Don’t treat me like a child!” Ren pointed a finger at him. “You haven’t hit me hard in three days. Three days dodging me like I’m made of porcelain. You think I haven’t noticed? I’ve noticed it from the very first minute of the first day, Jax. You’ve been treating me differently ever since Brody told you.”
Jax had the decency not to deny it. He ran a hand through his shaved hair and let out a sigh that made his chest swell.
“Okay. Maybe I’ve toned it down a little.”
“A little,” Ren snorted.
“A little, a lot.”
“You’ve been fighting with me like I’m a five-year-old in foam gloves.”
Jax’s smile was slow and huge, lighting up his face in a way that made him look ten years younger.
“I will not punish my nephew before he’s even born or anything like that. I’m just being cautious.”
“Fuck you, Jax.”
“That mouth of yours.”
“Fuck you hard.”
Jax burst out laughing. A belly laugh that echoed off the walls and, despite himself, loosened something inside Ren’s chest. Something tight that had been squeezing his ribs for days.
