Jax

by Cristin Harber

  Victoria hummed as though she didn't agree but had no defense left to put up. "How about you talk to your super-cute rug rats? They just walked in. I'll put you on speakerphone."

  "Seven! Seven! It's Bianca. It's Nolan. Can you hear me? Us? Can you hear us? Me?"

  "Hi, guys. I can hear you. What are you doing? Are you having fun?"

  They started to talk over each other again with a list of activities that sounded as though Victoria had been offering a day at camp. Arts and crafts. Hide-and-seek. Duck, duck, goose. Something that had to do with glitter.

  Seven shuddered.

  As much as she loved all things glittery and sparkly, glitter was one of those things that could also be used as a torture device. One sneeze gone wrong, and it was hours of cleaning. She once made the mistake of asking for help with glitter cleanup, and it took about two minutes to realize that all the little hands were making it ten times worse despite their best efforts.

  Nolan and Bianca ended their call with a series of competitive I love you's, each determined to say it louder and prouder and mean it more than the other before, apparently, they ended in a hug-and-tickle war that required Victoria to put down the phone, pick them up, count to one, and send everybody to coloring books.

  The rumble in the room quieted on the phone line, and Victoria came back. "The coast is now clear again."

  "You, Madame Deputy Mayor, sounded very motherly a moment ago. All 'don't make me count' and 'one…'" Seven laughed. "I'm very impressed with that."

  "I learned from the best."

  "Ahh, I'd say thanks, but sometimes, I don't know if you should say that about me. Speaking of which, how's my mom?"

  Victoria grumbled. "First, don't say that about yourself ever again. I've never met anybody more selfless and giving, in general and to these kids, than you. And second, your mom… I don't know anymore, Seven. I think moving your mom to assisted living was the right thing to do, but she seems so much worse than even three or four months ago. I know that's not a conversation you want to have right now." Victoria sighed sadly, and Seven felt the same way on the inside as her best friend continued. "A couple weeks ago wasn't that long ago. It's just like something has changed."

  Seven hung on to the phone in silence, and Victoria didn't add much. There wasn't much to say. The doctors insisted her mom wasn't suffering, but her quality of life seemed miserable, even if she didn't complain… maybe because she couldn't complain.

  "And I got a phone call… from my dad."

  Maybe that was one of the reasons why Victoria was in the mood to bicker with Ryder, because her dad could spoil any mood depending on what he had to say and how he said it. There were times when he seemed like a normal, nice person. Those times weren't often.

  When Victoria didn't expand on the conversation, Seven's stomach tied in knots. It was a doubly dreadful feeling, given that she was hours over her hangover, and raw nausea wasn't a great feeling. "What's the matter?"

  "Your dad is… Somehow, Cullen got word sent to my dad while they were in prison. You know how that goes… Your dad's powerful. He can make things happen, and I didn't expect to hear from mine when I answered the phone."

  Seven's nausea morphed into anger. The dread that swirled in her stomach snapped into tension, and she closed her fists. "I don't care. I don't want to hear what they talked about. I don't want to know anything." Seven shook her head and could feel blood pounding at her temples. "Tell him to keep my dad far away from my life."

  "I'm sorry I said anything."

  She let her fingers flare out then relax, trying to shake away the stress of Cullen Blackburn, when Seven caught sight of her left hand. That was a whole new barrel of stress. Why she hadn't taken off the wedding band yet? Jax had when he left to meet his boss.

  "Don't worry about it," she grumbled, unsure if she was more aggravated that she wouldn't take off her ring or that her dad had reached out. "Have you ever picked up any legal know-how when helping out on your divorce cases?"

  Victoria hummed. "Maybe a little. I'm not sure."

  "A little, like about annulments or divorces? Papers involved with that stuff?" Seven held the wedding band in front of her, moving her hand up and down, unable to look away like a cat drawn to a laser beam.

  "Well, actually, I think it's all—wait, why?"

  She dropped her hand quickly, tucking it under her back as though nothing had happened if she couldn't see it. "No reason."

  Victoria sucked a deep breath into the phone. "Holy shit."

  Seven rolled her eyes because that was what she would've said. "Heard that before. Don't—"

  "Did you get married?" Victoria asked in her most curious, most accusatory voice. "To who? Johnny again?"

  "Oh my God, no. Are you insane?"

  Victoria gasped. "Holy shit. You married Jax."

  Seven groaned and slapped the hand that she had hidden over her face. "I blame the rope. This is all your fault."

  "Oh my God. I can't—I can't even—oh my God!"

  "He really knew what he was doing, and it built so much trust. I trusted him before that anyway, and he's really sweet and romantic to start—" Wait. Was she defending her marriage?

  "Dying. Seven, I'm dying. Right now. I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you two were hooking up. But now you're married? Ryder's going to die too."

  Ugh! "Don't you dare tell him."

  "I'm texting him now," Victoria said from the far away sound of speakerphone.

  "Dammit, Victoria, stop! We're going to fix it! Soon as we can figure out how to get divorced."

  There was a long pause, and Victoria's lack of response made Seven sit up. "Why would you do that?" her friend finally asked.

  Her face skewed in confusion. "Why wouldn't we? I don't know his middle name. We can't even have a solid foot-stomping, middle-name-calling argument."

  "This is the first thing I can think of that you've done because you've wanted to do, not because you've had to do. You married Johnny because you were told to. Cleaned up all the messes your father made because he said so. You fix everything Mayhem asks you to because you feel responsibility for them. You love your kids to death, but you never saw them coming. You didn't plan on taking care of your mother before she had a stroke, and you had no intention to run a coffee shop before then, either. You have major responsibility in your life, and none of it was your decision. I don't know if you realize this, Seven, but you did something pretty huge on your own. Before you try to erase it, I'd try to figure out why. Even if there's alcohol involved." Victoria laughed quietly. "I'm just saying, don't rush, or at the very least, enjoy your honeymoon."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Diplomacy had never felt more like bodyguard status. Jax stood in the back of the Vegas conference room with Jared as he took in the scene and hoped that Boss Man would never force him through such a bullshit life lesson again. Whether this was punishment or he was actually supposed to learn how to keep his attitude in check, there wasn't much to be said for office work.

  At this point, Jax wasn't even sure what was to be said for Seven. He wasn't looking for a relationship. Certain complications came with that kind of responsibility—and it wasn't just her, but Bianca and Nolan too. It was almost more important that he thought about them first. All Seven wanted for those kids was a normal life, and him popping in and out because of her wasn't fair.

  But damn, it wasn't fair to run away from all three just because…

  Jared cracked his knuckles, and they both trailed behind the assortment of gang—businessmen who had come to their agreement peacefully.

  Not that he and Jared didn't want to take out a few of the fuckers. But that was a conversation for another day. For the moment, there was peace in ganglandia for the purpose of financial gain. They filed out of the conference room to where everyone had checked both phones and weapons as though it were normal. And actually, it was. Though Jax hated being around most of these people unarmed.

  A stir of conversation gr
ew louder as the group bottlenecked, and a crick of trepidation swept down Jax's back. His senses went on high alert as adrenaline swept through the air, spreading like wildfire, though he didn't know what was wrong.

  A quick glance at Jared confirmed he felt the shift also.

  "What is it?" Jared mumbled. He took a step left, tilting his head so that Jax went wide and right.

  He saw nothing abnormal except for a few terse looks around cell phones while others casually ambled away with fist bumps and chin lifts goodbye.

  The group of men parted. Sugar appeared in the middle as they split, and Jax's stomach dropped as he focused on the hard set of her jaw. Her searching gaze locked on to Jared, and she picked up speed. As though they had a silent conversation that sounded alarms, Boss Man rushed ahead and met her halfway. She held a phone outstretched for him as gang members crowded closer. Jax split from the group and pushed through the Niners and the Brotherhood, past Mayhem, then demanded his phone and weapon while keeping an eye on Sugar and Jared.

  He had nothing of interest and holstered his sidearm, studying the pack until Seven extracted herself from Mayhem.

  Her bright eyes were dead, and her lips had gone ashen as a limp hand reached toward Jax.

  "Seven?" Her step faltered, and he surged forward to catch her before she stumbled. "Seven!"

  She crumbled in his arms as he pulled her close. Jax twisted, looking for a chair and then his boss, wondering what the fuck was happening.

  "Seven, get the fuck over here," Johnny snapped.

  Hawke's arm flung out and slapped across Johnny's leather cut. It wasn't to hold the VP back but rather put up a line that shouldn't be crossed.

  "Seven, back here. We've got to talk. Now." Hawke dropped his arm from Johnny's chest, but his authority over the situation remained. He lifted his chin. " No disrespect to you, but we have club business to take care of."

  Seven didn't move, and Jax wasn't letting go.

  "I'm not going to tell you again," Hawke growled.

  She buried her fingers into Jax's flesh, whimpering as though her soul cried. Jax wrapped his arms around her tighter than before. "What the hell is going on?"

  Jared and Sugar moved next to Hawke as Ethan and Tex moved next to Johnny, forming a semicircle around Jax and Seven.

  "Boss Man, what?"

  Seven pressed her forehead against his chest, answering, "He has them."

  The shaky shadow of her was hauntingly hollow, and still, he wasn't connecting the dots.

  "He, who?" What were they talking about? "The kids?" Jax thought the kids' dad was long gone, in jail because of all this goddamn drug business. Hadn't that been the problem to begin with?

  Jared tossed the phone Sugar had rushed in, and Jax caught it one-handed. The screen was open to a message from Parker to Sugar.

  Hernán knows about Mayhem's meeting. Victoria was run off the road and handcuffed to the steering wheel. Suarez cartel took both kids. Get in that meeting and tell Jared.

  "What the…" Jax knew better than to trust the gangs and their networks. No amount of money and benefits would keep them quiet. Why hurt Seven? He tossed the phone back to Jared. "What are we gonna do?"

  Johnny surged forward. "We aren't going to do anything, motherfucker."

  "Stand down, goddamn it," Hawke barked. "This is your goddamn fault."

  Johnny spun toward Hawke. "My goddamn fault? You want to talk about—"

  "I would be very careful about what you say in the open," Tex said.

  "If you're not Mayhem, get the fuck out of here," Hawke ordered, and the remainder of the Niners started to walk.

  But the Brotherhood didn't move. "If we have a problem with Hernán, you know this deal is off the table. That was part of it. The contract conveys. That means all distribution partners, everyone from production to the last distributor that helps somebody sniff it up their nose, is thrilled. Do you read me?" The man with the wretched Brotherhood tattoo across his throat moved toward Hawke. "If you had us come down here, do this song and dance, and it was in bad faith? You will have a war on your hands. And not just from the Brotherhood."

  "Get the fuck out of my hotel if you want to speak to me like that," Hawke said, stepping forward. "Hernán is happy when his bank account is happy. You threaten me, I'll bleed you out on the carpet before you can say don't slice open my ink."

  Neither man stood down, and Johnny's jitters started to twitch next to Tex, evidence that he hadn't taken a hit of whatever he needed recently. Everyone was armed, and emotions were high. The area was close quarters, and what they needed to do was focus on Seven, Nolan, and Bianca.

  "Seven, let's get this worked out," Hawke said with a much lower voice, as though he were trying to cool his own rage, lure her back toward Mayhem, and keep everything good with the Brotherhood.

  The phone Sugar had given Jared vibrated, and not missing a beat, Boss Man swiped the screen. His face darkened as he listened, offering only a grunt before he ended the call and turned toward Hawke. "How do you plan on correcting Hernán?"

  Hawke barely shook his head, but the tension flexed in his jaw. "We will deal with the business of Mayhem momentarily."

  Jared took an aggressive step forward, challenging Hawke. " You think that you can fix this? Titan has been on the sidelines, watching your mistake after damn mistake. And you don't want to partner with us now? When this is what we do best? Fools."

  "They're my kids, and I didn't say no," Seven whispered. "What does Johnny have to do with this?"

  "What the fuck does anyone have to do with any of this?" Johnny threw his arms out, twitching his fingers. "If we had left good enough alone, none of this would've happened."

  Hawke snarled at Jared. "You obviously know more than we do right now. You could share."

  "You're obviously," Sugar snapped, mocking his snarl, "going to play with those kids' lives because you have"—Sugar threw her fingers in the air, making air quotes—"club business. And you don't even know what's up. Is that right?"

  "They think Bianca and Nolan are Johnny's blood," Jared explained.

  "No," Seven cried, collapsing against Jax.

  Johnny let out a string of curse words, spinning in his boots and slamming his fist against the wall. Tex grabbed him back and threw him in line.

  "You know whose fault this is?" Johnny paced back and forth, cracking his neck side to side, working his shoulders up and down.

  Jax couldn't wait to hear who that asshole was going to blame. Whatever beauties were going to fall out of his tweaking, meth–mouth would have been comedy if it weren't for such a serious situation.

  "I'm going to shove my hand through your face if you don't shut your mouth," Tex barked.

  Johnny snarled and spun, but he didn't stop in front of Tex as he twisted to face Jax. His gaze dropped to Seven. "You."

  She balked. "Me?"

  "If you had just let them go. But no, you have to take care of the world. You have to have kids to what, fix what was done to you?"

  Cold, white fury shook through Jax with such rapid fire that he saw the hotel shake around them. But before he could hold back Seven or funnel his fury to his own fists, Tex swung, and the back of Johnny's skull smacked against the wall. The coke head dropped into a pile of motorcycle leather, cut, and knocked-out tweaker.

  Seven's anger and fear vibrated. This was hell; Jax was holding living, breathing pain. He had never experienced her fear, the kind that sliced through muscles and tore at his sanity. He'd never cared in a personal way before. "We'll get them back, princess. I promise."

  Nothing would stop him from making this right. Jax turned, holding Seven's hand, and watched Deacon Lanes thunder down the hall.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  With every stride that Deacon took closer, Jax's blood boiled in his veins, punching at each pulse point and drilling angry memories to the surface. The bastard was the Grim Reaper—pure evil with no remorse for how he got the job done. Jax wouldn't be surprised if he had personally taken
Bianca and Nolan.

  Though if he did, Jax would steal his last breath.

  Deacon's impassive face didn't register that he saw anyone but Hawke. His laser-focused black eyes didn't sweep toward Seven or acknowledge Jax, but he knew the CIA bastard never missed the mark. And that was what they all were to him—targets, tangos, marks, people that he would take out without a moment of hesitation.

  The big black man placed himself directly in front of Hawke, squaring off, one tough-ass dude against the next and—

  "What are you doing here?" Seven bolted upright, a surprising amount of rigor rushing through the limbs that Jax had just had to support as she pushed him away and charged forward. "Hey, excuse me."

  Deacon's head tilted slowly before he twisted his massive frame and towered over her. "Do you mind?"

  He was well over six feet, dressed all in black, with a shaved head and a clipped goatee. Even among Mayhem, Deacon stood out as rough, but it was the sinister deadness in his eyes that could make a person's blood run cold. Seven seemed not to notice, or she was all out of fucks to give, because she didn't stand down as he leaned in. "That's how it's going to be? I see you for years. And only when bad news arrives or business picks up through questionable circumstances." Her fingers flared by her hips, and she squeezed them into fists. "Which. Is. It. Now?"

  "Do you mind?" Deacon tried again but didn't wait as he turned back to Hawke.

  "Yes, I mind." Seven pushed her way in between them as a growl rumbled from Deacon's chest. Hawke's hands came forward protectively.

  "Hawke, don't even. That's how this is going to be? Really? My babies are gone! You show up! And nobody is fucking talking to me?" She spun toward Hawke and Tex, jabbing her finger toward them. "You act like I shouldn't ask Jared and Jax for help when you know that they can? I should leave all of you, go call the cops, the FBI, 9-1-1. I have no idea. But we've wasted ten minutes playing some territorial game like my children weren't stolen," she cried before straightening herself and focusing back on Deacon. "I have no idea who you are. Who the hell are you, and what are you going to do about my kids?"