IT MUST BE THE ONE.
“What does that mean?”
No answer.
“Tell me who.”
WHEN THE DAY COMES, YOU’LL KNOW.
“When?”
ONE DAY.
Forty-Nine
NOW | JAX
I’m so fucking tired—angry and stupidly relieved she’s here—that the mix of it twists inside me until I realize I’m crushing the metal ashtray, bending it clean out of shape.
The bedroom door opens and I automatically turn. In the blink of an eye, it’s like I’m eighteen again, every thought ending with me needing to break something just to cool off, to keep from giving in to the urge to take her like an animal. One glance at her and it’s enough for my dick to go into high alert. All these years later and I’m still just as crazy for her.But hell, she drives me fucking mad.
She’s wearing one of my shirts, hanging off one shoulder. No pants, because why would she bother.She looks comfortable. I know I should have asked her to move in years ago, I just couldn’t. Back then I still had some stupid fucking hope that she could walk away from me and live a better life. Now she’s here, and a part of me is so goddamn happy, while the other part is screaming that I’ve just sealed her fate by letting her stay.
She’s always been my one blind spot. The one person I can’t stay angry at for long.Not today.I force my gaze back to the window. I’m allowed to stay pissed for at least another minute.She needs to understand she can’t keep playing games where her safety’s on the line.
“You’ve been quiet since O opened his mouth this morning,” she says, plucking the cigarette from my fingers. “What’s going on? Already regretting me moving in?” She takes a drag, then shoves it back between my lips.
Smoke leaves my lips as I flick ash into the now-distorted bowl. I drag another breath in before answering. “When were you planning on filling me in on your little plan?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down. “Or was I just supposed to keep showing up and fighting whoever you point at?”
“I’m sorry.”
I look at her.
“I mean it,” she says again, stepping closer. “I should’ve told you.”
“Yeah,” I grit out. “You should’ve.”
I stub the cigarette out. “I’ve got a business to run, Sisk. A bar full of idiots who think they’re invincible. Suppliers. Staff. Bills. Guys who think they can test me because they heard rumors.” I shake my head. “I don’t get to just go play underground fighter every time you decide to start a war.”
She folds her arms, defensive now. “I didn’t ask you to fight for fun.”
“No,” I snap. “You made it necessary.”
“Because someone has to stop it. You have no idea how bad it is,” she continues, voice rising. “Girls disappearing into that shit. Losing themselves. Losing everything. Millie—” Her voice cracks. “She’s getting worse, Jax. I’m not just going to sit and watch.”
I look away.
She presses on. “Before you say anything—yes, I know you’ve been checking on her and my parents. I know. But I’m not moving in here unless I know they’re okay. Safe.”
I rub my jaw.
“And… we still need to go see Murtaugh,” she adds. “Let him look at you. Your blood. Whatever this is. You heard what O said.”
I let out a humorless breath. “Yeah. Let’s go ask the neighborhood witch doctor to fix me.”
Her face hardens. “Stop.”
“Nobody can fix this,” I say. “Trust me.” I stare back out the window. “Honestly?” I mutter. “Sometimes I wish this whole thing would just end.”
