It was the nasty screech of my truck’s breaks as I came to a halt that broke those warm feelings. I set my stiff handbrake after a few attempts and hopped out of my rust bucket. Wishing my years of love and care had let my old baby survive as well as the house had, it hadn’t.
My boots stirred up a cloud of dust around my ankles, the particles already clinging to my jeans as I slammed the creaky door shut and looked around. The first thing I spotted and was overjoyed to see was Max’s trailer. It was parked beside a traditional red and white further up the track. As I approached, I saw a lone figure sitting on the top of one of the fences. When I came close enough into view to take the sight in, I halted.
Perched with that same impeccable balance, haunches up and tucked underneath his body, arms resting on those wide-set knees, was Jackson. His delicate position made it seem as if a single breath would knock him off that high fence, but I knew all too well he was as sturdy as stone.
The wind blew, and he leaned slightly into its embrace, his black curled hair caught in the breeze, brushing against the back of his bare neck. Brown eyes winced in the sunlight as he looked across the pastures and fields with an air of natural calm surrounding him. For just a second, I could see into the past. I could my Jackson sitting there, so relaxed, and peaceful, surrounded by the dirt, sweat, and sun that made him into the boy I remembered.
But this wasn’t Jackson. Just like the image arrived in a sudden wind, it disappeared the same way. The memories swept out of my vision and into thin air leaving me with an empty longing.
Damn this nostalgia….
I tried my best to move my lead feet, fending off that clinging feeling, as I stepped out of the sun and into Jax’s shadow.
“You’re three minutes late,” Jax announced, not moving an inch from his spot.
I ignored his comment, walking up to the fence and resting my arms over the second bar, peering through the gap. I may have been 5’ 8”, but pasture fences were tall, and I’d never been able to see over the top of one while standing and had long since given up trying.
Instead, Jackson’s shadow provided the perfect shade for my eyes to seek out what I had been looking for ever since I arrived.
Max’s beautiful brown coat appeared a golden bay under the warm sunlight as she stood in its direct rays. Her uneven, cropped mane rippled in the breeze and the long, slightly matted tail swept against her hind legs.
I shuffled on my feet, happy to see her out in the open, but the noise must have been louder than I expected, and Max’s head spun in my direction.
Her ears shot forward, her body turning to face me, shoes shuffling backward, away from my direction until her hind end hit the fence. She didn’t panic, but the caution radiating off her had me immediately backing away from the fence.
I should have been used to this reaction by now, should have expected it, but every time she reacted to me like I was a threat, it swelled up the painful guilt nestled deep in my core. The emotional blow had me looking for any kind of distraction.
“You work fast,” I said into the air, trying desperately not to look in Max’s direction as I could hear her starting to pace the back fence; she must have noticed me. I wasn’t unaware, though, of the shake of her head in my peripheral vision as she homed in on anything and everything around her.
“She needed space,” Jackson replied, his voice neutral, as if he hadn’t seen the interaction that had just happened. But he did. He always had. “Couldn’t keep her in that cramped trailer any longer.”
I nodded. One of the reasons I had spent most of my time in dingy motels was because I needed to rent pastures for Max. It had been difficult and expensive to rent a field for a single horse with issues like Max’s. Not to mention when I had to get her out of the trailer….
What Jax saw and dealt with had been a mild reaction compared to my history of dealing with Max.
“Jackson—”
“Jax,” he interrupted. “It’s Jax now.”
“Right,” I uttered. I looked down at my worn leather boots. They kicked at the soft dirt around the edge of the pole, stirring up dust again when I heard Jax’s tongue click.
“Don’t scuff your boots,” he scolded.
“Good to see your pickiness hasn’t changed,” I said in reply, earning a scoff.
Jax swung his leg off the fence and dropped down onto the earth. My head tilted up at him, and despite the fact I’d grown an inch or two since he last saw me, he was still miles taller.
“Come with me,” he said, taking the lead and heading back toward the farm house.
Before I followed him, I took one last glance at Max who continued to pace back and forth across the length of the pasture in a frenzy.
We were silently walking until he noticed my flickering gaze over my shoulder and at his curt, “She’ll wear herself out and calm down,” I whipped my head forwards.
The sound of dirt crumbling beneath our boots was deafening as we walked past my old truck and up to the porch. The creak of the steps broke the unbearable silence between us. Cool shade hung over our heads as I gazed at the back of Jax’s neck, a slight peek of his hair from under his hat curling over the tanned skin. “Your place is lovely.”
“It’s not mine.”
Blunt as ever.
“It’s not?”
Jax pulled on the large wooden front door. It swung open with unexpected ease.
“No. Sometimes I help out up here for old man Pete when he needs it.” Jax reached for the screen next. “He let me open one of the fields for Max.”
“That’s nice,” I mumbled, waiting as he stepped inside a small hallway and leaving me to follow him. He didn’t even hold the door for me… not that I cared.
The house was just as I expected. The second I stepped over the threshold, it was like stepping back into an early 19th century house. I smelled the light, musty perfume of the natural oak floors, a warm and welcoming scent. Aged, black-and-white photos decorated the walls in an abundance of different photo frames of varying sizes. Floral wallpaper lined the walls and the wooden staircase was adorned in a faded, pale blue wash with small hand-painted petals and leaves decorating the banister. I was so enamored by the character that I hadn’t realized I paused at the entry way until I heard Jax’s harsh cough.
I followed him into the kitchen.
“Sit.” He gestured to the wooden table, then positioned himself in front of the small kitchen window, and I pulled out a shabby chic wooden chair and sank on the plump, floral cushion.
He hooked one foot behind his ankle and crossed his arm over his chest, revealing his forearm wrapped in a white bandage. I moved my gaze down to my hands, resting interlocked on the table and waited for him to join me. He didn’t.
“I need you here,” Jax said, and I felt my whole existence stutter.
“W- what?” My heart jumped.
“As much as I don’t want to be around you,” he explained, and my mind caught up with rapid speed, “if I’m going to help Max, you need to be here too.”
“I see,” I whispered, pretending I didn’t feel that pathetic squeeze in my chest. Jax’s help was only until Max got better, and once she was better we had to leave. I’d seen Jackson pull the riders into the recovery process time and time again, and I’m not sure why I expected anything different. He’d put our difference aside to help Max. “That’s fine.”
“I also need you to tell me what happened.”
I faltered. Images rushed past my vision and in an instant I was there. I could hear the rain, and Max’s terrified cries. My hand rubbed against my right thigh, trying to rub away the ache that began to radiate inside it.
I took a minute to wait for the anxiety to subside and my breath to calm. I knew this would happen. Knew he’d want to know what happened to Max. But facing this moment was a lot more stressful than I anticipated as I tried to organize my thoughts. All I had to say was what I needed to…nothing more, nothing less.
I’m not sure how long I sat there, trying to dig my
way out of the emotions, but when I did, I found my eyes moving to Jax’s. His body language had done a complete one-eighty. He was no longer leaning against the window, calm and observant. He was now straight as a board, eyes dark and watching every single inch of movement. There was a pulse of energy radiating from him and into me and I couldn’t face it, turning my head back to the reclusive neutrality of the white table.
“It was raining when I found her…,” I said, the sound of thunder and lightning rumbling in a distant place in my mind. “She was near River Tree Bay on the outskirts of the property. There was so much blood in the rain, on the grass, and on her body. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was just… everywhere.” My head shook down at the white table, hands shaking into fists. “She was just standing there… so quiet and still. It’s like she had just disappeared inside herself. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just took her by the reins, and I managed to get her back to the farm, and that’s when my father found us, and everything was a blur after that.”
I wiped against my eyes, trying to smother the tears that wanted to escape. No matter how many times I recounted the story, it didn’t get any easier.
I didn’t want to go into too much detail, and it was true that I didn’t remember much more of that night, though the reason hadn’t been shock.
“How did it get in?” he growled.
I startled in my seat as I was reminded of his presence.
“What?” I gawked, looking up at him, now only a few inches from where I sat. I didn’t hear him move, but his folded arms tucked his tight fists and his eyes were bearing down at me.
“How. Did. The. Animal. Get. In?” Jax repeated, punctuating each one of his words with a low growl.
“They told me they’d found a hole in the fence a couple feet up from where we—” I stumbled over my slip. “—where Max was. The animal must have chewed through it or—”
“They’re electric fences, Ronnie,” Jax growled back, the timber of his voice raising my heart rate as I looked into his silent, bubbling eyes. The brown was almost black as they looked down at me, his lips pulling back, baring his clenched white teeth. “Animals don’t just chew through them.”
“Maybe it broke when the storm came in, or the power went out, or—”
Jax hissed, cutting me off. He let out a huge sigh, turning his body away from mine with remarkable speed as he threw his head to look up at the ceiling, muttering only a last, and obviously sarcastic, scoff under his breath. “Sure. Maybe.”
Some things didn’t change, and as I caught the dark glare in my direction, I held my breath. Jax looked beyond pissed and I wasn’t going to provoke him. Opening my mouth anymore would do just that.
I sat in silence for what felt like ten years before the creak of the floor made me jump.
“I got some shit to do,” Jax snapped, turning and power-walking out of the kitchen and into the hallway so abruptly that I wasted a precious few seconds of time before I threw myself out of my chair.
My leg jerked at the sudden movement, and I stumbled slightly into the doorframe. Jax paused and looked back at me.
“Is that it?” I asked after him, propping myself back up onto two feet. “No more questions or training or… anything?”
“Max needs a few days to get used to this place and get over this morning. Until then, you just need to come and visit her once a day. Don’t go near her, just stay in her sight. The old man’s also been told not to go near her. So, yeah, until I start with Max next week. That’s it.”
With that, he grasped the door, swung it open with little care, and then left through it, leaving a resounding bang behind him as the heavy door slammed shut.
A few seconds later I heard the roar of a truck’s engine, one much smoother than mine, start up and then disappear into the distance.
I stood there until only the sound of the empty farm house filled my ears. I took a deep breath before going and sitting next to Max’s fence, glancing at the traces of where Jax had been and letting go of the weight our short conversation left on me. I took my time bathing in Max’s nearby comfort. She didn’t come closer, but even as she was, I was happy just to have her near.
Chapter Three
Jax
“So, Horse Whisperer.” Mallory nudged me in the arm, jumping up onto the bar stool that she was only just tall enough to reach. “Got to admit, that was hot.”
I waved my bandaged arm at her. “It hurt like a bitch. It wasn’t hot.”
“Cowboys are hot as shit,” Mallory disagreed, shaking her head at me, her curly red hair coming around her face.
I rolled my eyes at her, the strange little woman. She had barely waited two seconds for me to sit down before ambushing me. I wasn’t sure where the other women had disappeared to, but I had no doubt they each had their own plans to interrogate me about this morning. I normally couldn’t get enough of women, but our club women were not normal women. This one in particular.
I gave her a quick, cheeky smirk before I spun on my stool and yelled at the top of my voice, “Hunter, come get your woman!”
Mallory pinched me after removing her hands from her ears, but it did the trick as Hunter came strolling into the club, rag in his hands as he worked the oil from between his fingers.
A few moments later, his young nephew came running in behind him. He had black on his face, clothes, and in nearly every single blonde curl on top of his head. He never looked happier.
His mother, on the other hand, couldn’t look more pissed. “Hunter!” Mallory chastised. “What have I said about getting Adair filthy!”
“They’re old clothes.” He shrugged. “And he’ll wash. He wanted to work on the bike with me.”
“How’s that going for ya’, by the way?” I asked, swiveling on my bar stool to face him and the little tyke.
“It still needs a lot of work, but I’ve got most of the dents out of it. Well, out of the parts I could salvage that is.” Hunter groaned, helping Mallory down off her stool as she hissed at him. He threw his hands up in surrender, stepping safely away from her as she stormed past him to start fussing over Adair.
“Deciding to fix Ruby up from the start was a suicide mission, my friend.” I laughed, patting him on the shoulder.
“Well, since Freya was born, I haven’t had much time to work on it. She hasn’t started sleeping through the night yet.” Hunter sighed, and it wasn’t like the rest of us hadn’t noticed the dark bags under both parents’ eyes. “It’s going to take me more than a couple years at this rate before Noble’s bike is fixed. I stole the mother of his child, least I can do is give his kid his bike.”
“You didn’t steal her, and you know it,” I rolled my eyes at the big idiot. He was as loyal as a man could get, and to his true blood brother, who died a while back, he had a lot of guilt resting on his shoulders. “You just took in what he left behind.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Hunter shrugged. I could have argued more, but I left it be. No use trying to dig up history that won’t make any of us feel better.
“On another note, where is your youngest spawn?” I said, looking around the club, trying to see if someone had pinched one of our newest additions to the club.
“She’s at Janine’s,” Hunter informed me. Janine was Mallory’s mother and my only opinion of her thus far was that she was a hot cougar. One I wouldn’t mind working my charms on had I not been warned off her immediately from her even hotter red-headed daughter.
“If you need me, lemme know,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder just as Mallory realized that Adair wasn’t, in fact, wearing old clothes.
“Hunter!” she shrieked, turning on her husband while her son made his hasty retreat outside.
Hunter sighed, walked over to his wife and mid-rant, dropped his shoulder to her stomach. She screeched, and he flung her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.
Honestly, the occurrence was such a regular thing that midway through I had already turned toward the bar as I heard
his woman’s ranting disappear up the stairs.
“How nice,” a voice said from ahead of me. I looked up to find Anna standing on the other side of the bar, absently rearranging the glasses under the counter from biggest to smallest.
“Wow, Pipe, your chest has gotten huge,” I teased, giving her my most charming smile.
“Funny,” the pint-sized blonde scoffed. “Pipe’s out back cataloguing the stock that’s been delivered, moaning about being the only prospect to do shit since Mint got his patch.”
“Just tell the lazy bastard to work harder then.”
“You can only work so hard,” Anna chuckled, not disagreeing with me. Knowing her, she probably already told him that.
“I assure you,” I said, showing her my darkest smile, “harder is always better.”
Red lips frowned at me as she leaned over and gave my shoulder a sympathetic pat. “You talk a nice game, Cowboy, but—” She shrugged, letting her eyes peruse up and down what she knew, deep down inside, was her dream man’s body. “Anyway,” she sidestepped, “you gonna tell me about your mysterious piece of ass?”
“Ah, I was wondering when you’d get around to that.” I sighed, feeling my calm and somewhat lightened mood dissipate.
I thought back to Ronnie, how meek she was as she told me her story, and I could feel that irritation already burning hard in my chest.
Electric fences don’t just break.
I picked up my beer, put it to my lips and chugged it down in one, slamming it back down on the counter. “Another.”
She handed one over, rather easily seeing as though I didn’t say please, and she could be a bitch for respect and manners. All of which led to her having an ulterior motive.
“You’re getting old, Jax,” Anna said on a shrug. “An old lady might be good for you.”
And there it is. My second ambush of the day.
She picked up a cloth and began polishing the glasses, as if it was an unconscious habit. I’d only seen her behind the bar on the rare occasion, usually while she was interfering with things, or in this case, matchmaking.
Jax: Black Angels MC, #3 Page 4