Jax

by Cristin Harber

  "Jeez, that sucks."

  "No, it doesn't suck if you don't know what you might be missing. I care about him. I want good things for him—"

  "The cokehead who hit you."

  "You've never made a mistake before?"

  "That's not a—never mind."

  "When I was sixteen years old, he gave me butterflies."

  "At least it wasn't the clap."

  "Jax. I'm trying to explain that he's always been a very attractive person, and I didn't think anything of it. It was what I knew. Normal. We did the prom thing. Johnny was the first boy I kissed, lost my virginity to, and the same person I ended up marrying. It seemed like that was how it was supposed to go."

  Jax helped her down a small embankment, and she heard water splash around his feet. "Back up." He shuffled them up the hill and moved in a different direction. "When did you know you wanted something different?"

  Seven groaned into the jungle humidity. "I'll tell you if you promise not to judge me."

  Jax lifted her over a downed tree. "Maybe. Hang on. Duck for a minute." They crawled through thick branches, and he helped her through the last ones. "You know I'm not going to judge you."

  He held her still as though she had to acknowledge that he meant what he said. "I know."

  "Careful over here."

  Footing wasn't easy, but it was better than baring her soul. Still, she wanted Jax to know about her, regardless of how uncomfortable sharing made her. "It wasn't when I knew he was sleeping around. But when I realized my dreams and fantasies revolved around things I'd never have with him, I started to change. More importantly, I knew it was happening, and why I was changing scared me. In how addictive it felt. Like a compulsion." Which she already had and couldn't stomach explaining.

  Jax stopped and turned to her. "Like what?"

  Nervously, she fidgeted, unable to see where she could pace but wanting to move. Maybe she'd said too much. Maybe he'd picked up on the OCD and thought she wanted to talk about that. "I don't know. Stupid stuff."

  "How did you change?"

  "The first time I dyed my hair an outrageous color, it was a rush. And then the piercings. It's not the high from the pain that excites me. I like the rush of planning, the nerves of not knowing, the thrill of seeing something that some say shouldn't be there. It's the closest thing I can find to butterflies, and I wanted to keep chasing it."

  "Why would I judge you for that?"

  "I didn't work on my marriage."

  "You were eighteen years old."

  "How old were you when you joined the navy?" she asked.

  "Eighteen."

  "And you're always a SEAL."

  "That's different, and you know it."

  Seven agreed but could still make the argument against herself. "I'd been through the ugliness of my parents' split and couldn't handle that one decision trapping me for the next fifty, sixty, however many more years of my life."

  "I get that."

  "I didn't want to be like my dad. He ran out on my mom. Or maybe, it was that I didn't want to be like my mom, who finally gave up on my dad. I don't know… My father fucked around on my mom a ton, and perhaps that's why I didn't bat an eyelash when getting married didn't stop Johnny from sleeping with whoever he wanted to. But you know what the weirdest thing is?"

  Jax put his hands on her biceps and gave a soft squeeze. "Tell me."

  "It didn't feel real. The marriage, wedding rings. I had this fairytale wedding in my head. And I know the wedding ceremony doesn't make the marriage, but I wanted this very traditional wedding with a giant wedding gown and veil, bridesmaids, and groomsmen. I fantasized about a church with an organist and people throwing birdseed or blowing bubbles as we ran out."

  Jax grumbled.

  It wasn't everyone's ideal day, but it was hers. "You know what else?"

  "Hmm?" The cold, rough edge of his disinterest barely registered because she'd tried to share her dream with Johnny time and time again, and his responses had run along the lines of "better luck next time" to "sounds like a waste of money."

  "I couldn't see Johnny's face. It was never him." Seven shook her head. "No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put him in my dreams."

  Jax squeezed her arms and let out a deep sigh. He finally said, "You would look beautiful in a big white dress."

  "Thanks." That was more than she'd ever gotten before, and Seven squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to be closer to him than their layers of clothes would allow. She leaned nearer and held on to him, refusing to be overwhelmed by history.

  Jax stroked her hair. "I was in love before."

  Seven tilted her head back.

  "I was a couple years younger than you. Man, and I was naïve. Green as fuck. Her name was Carrie, and she worked for the Agency as an operational analyst. Essentially, an intel grunt. She would take info from ops and digest it. Sometimes, that meant fieldwork, but mostly, she was behind a computer. The whole thing is classified, actually. What I'm about to tell you doesn't even exist. But…" His body tensed, and Seven thought he might never continue. "I married her."

  Having no idea what to do, she stayed wrapped around Jax because those last three words sounded like they hurt him to say. If nothing else, Seven wanted to simply touch him, tell him without a sound that she wished he never hurt.

  "Carrie wore a white dress. Sounds like you might've liked it. A long veil too. Her hair was long and… up. There were these pins. They shimmered and held the veil in place."

  Seven couldn't tell if pain or anger made Jax's voice gravel. She inched back, wanting to ask if he was okay, needing to see his face, but the jungle night was dark to the point of blindness. It was cruel not to be able to see his eyes, his cheeks, those lips that she wanted to kiss when his pain shook the wilderness. "You don't have to continue."

  "I should tell you." His ragged, broken sigh shattered her heart. "There was a small room at the back of the church. Music still played. We didn't even have a chance to laugh over the stupid way one of her bridesmaids kept sneezing during the ceremony and how the priest kept glaring. We never got to talk."

  "Jax, what happened?"

  His clothes rustled as he pulled back, rubbing his chest. "What happened?" Jax's hurt bottomed out in a deadness that sent chills down Seven's skin. "Deacon Lanes happened."

  Oh—They were both employed by the CIA. Did they have an affair? Or—

  "Their cover was blown for a job, and Deacon's identity was in question while we were at the church. Him and her at the same location. They walked into the room seconds after we shut the door, and Deacon didn't even look—"

  What happened? Seven would never ask, but hell…

  "He said, 'she means nothing,' shot her in the head, and kept his cover."

  "What!" Seven's heart broke for Jax. The idea of a loved one killed in action was unbearable, but to witness it? And after getting married? Seven didn't know how Jax was still standing.

  She also understood the rage she'd witnessed in Las Vegas. What had seemed like a snap, out-of-control decision to attack and nearly kill Deacon now didn't seem vicious enough.

  How was Deacon still alive? She had no idea. She would never ask why Jax hadn't murdered the man who'd murdered his wife. They were raised in different ways. But his self-control, the dedication he had to his cause and country, and the fact that he placed what he did and what he was doing for Nolan, Bianca, and her so high, had elevated him to sainthood.

  "I've been angry and hateful since that day." He wrapped his arms around her. "Time heals wounds, but Seven, I have to thank you too."

  She jolted back in his arms. "Me?"

  Jax didn't let her go anywhere. "Yeah, princess, you. Because I go through the motions and do a hell of a job, but I couldn't feel a damn thing." He inched her close until his breath tickled her face. "Until I felt my heart beat when I woke up married, next to you."

  Seven had no doubt how deeply she'd fallen in love with him, but she had no idea how to focus her mind around the gravi
ty of that realization.

  "Not too much farther and not much left to say. Let's get in and get some shut-eye." He slid his hands down her arms and found her grip. With a squeeze, Jax signaled that it was time, and into the darkness they went.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Seven was home and safe after an exhausting trek through the jungle delivered her to a helicopter which materialized out of nowhere then whisked her away.

  The bright morning held the promise of a return to normal. Nolan and Bianca were in their beds, and Jax had held her all night long until he had to go, giving her a quick update on her mom.

  Sleepy and exhausted, she had only a few minutes to say goodbye before he rushed off to Titan-land, and now she replayed their conversation with a smile.

  "Your mom got sick while we were out of town."

  Seven had been abducted. Interesting how he'd chosen to word that.

  "She's doing much better now, and Sidney went to be with her as often as he could."

  Jax had explained that the reason her mom had been sick was because she'd had a seizure, which had stolen her breath until he'd explained that Taini now took the proper medication to combat that.

  Then he'd also explained the reason her mom's rapid health decline over the past few weeks. She'd been pissed it took a stroke to find the problem, but her therapy and activities had been adjusted.

  Jax had dealt with everything, all in the course of a couple days, while rescuing her and the kids. So, he was a superhero. Then off he'd gone to save the world again.

  As soon as Glamma was able to take Nolan and Bianca, Seven called Adelia and made plans to hustle over to the nursing home as soon as visiting hours were available.

  And now Seven waited outside Adelia's apartment. She ran her hands in semicircles along the steering wheel, replaying the last few days of insanity. Somehow, she was supposed to act as though life were normal again.

  But it was normal. Normal had turned out to be one of the most relative words she'd ever thought about, and now she had to figure out how to coexist with that realization. Her normal was Sweet Hills and Mayhem.

  But now she knew that somewhere in the world, there was a normal of cartel slavery and abductions as part of business dealings. That was their normal—both the evil, inhumane excuses for people who made those decisions day in and out as well as the people who lived until they died under the consequences of others' choices.

  Yet she was back in Sweet Hills, where everything was old normal. Bianca and Nolan woke up at the crack of dawn, like normal. Just hours before, she'd tucked them into their beds after jet-setting back from South America and caravanning home under the watchful eye of a security detail.

  Then they had Cheerios for breakfast. Like normal…

  Seven had awoken alone after Jax tucked her into bed, promising all would be okay and she should sleep. Her hand still reached for him when she opened her eyes, but he was gone. At work, in another state or country… That had been Victoria and Ryder's normal for the past few years. It seemed easy enough from the outside looking in, but Seven had been wrong.

  "Hey!" Adelia broke Seven's thoughts as she dove into the car.

  "Hi."

  "I'm so happy to see you." She hugged Seven. "Are you good?"

  "I'm good. My muscles are a little sore from—"

  Adelia's eyes rounded. "Crazy sex with the hot Italian."

  Seven flashed her a side-eye. "No!"

  "Liar."

  "From walking for miles in a freaking jungle, thank you very much." Then, hot cheeked, she quietly whispered, "Though there might have been time spent with a certain man."

  "Mm-hm." Adelia buckled her seatbelt. "Victoria's told me all about the Welcome to Vegas gift package she arranged for."

  "What!" Ugh. Her face flashed hot. "No idea—"

  "Champagne and lube?" Adelia giggled. "That's what a best friend is for."

  Seven's cheeks flamed a whole notch hotter. "Holy shit! Is nothing sacred?"

  "No. Spit it out."

  "We're not having that conversation."

  Laughing harder, Adelia bounced her eyebrows. "Victoria would dish."

  "Well, the deputy mayor can do whatever she deems appropriate." Seven looked down her nose and rolled her eyes with a smile. Then she put the car into drive and pulled out. They followed the familiar small-town streets toward where her mother's nursing home was. Adelia fiddled with the radio and switched from station to station.

  "Sweet Hills feels so quiet," Seven said.

  "What do you mean?"

  Hmm. What did she mean? "Some places in the world are in upheaval, and we're flipping the radio stations. Forty-eight hours ago, I was trudging through a jungle after Special Forces saved my children. There should be parades and confetti on the streets, headlines on the top of the Sweet Hills Sentinel, but no one knows."

  "You haven't shared."

  "Some things are so monumental, it seems the universe should know." Seven turned and accelerated down the main thoroughfare.

  "I know you got married and haven't mentioned it." Adelia tucked a leg under the other on her seat. "Why don't we start there?"

  Her fingers tensed around the steering wheel even as her heart fluttered. She was Mrs. Seven Michaelson. Or would she keep her last name like with Johnny? What was she thinking about? Vegas weddings were a problem to fix, even if the sex was mind-blowing and the man was one of a kind. "We were drunk."

  "Not something I hear you say very often."

  "It was a mistake, and I barely remember anything." Which wasn't true, and every time she closed her eyes, more memories fought through to permanently embed themselves in her memory. "I didn't mention it because it's not news."

  Adelia sighed. "I can't believe the pre-Vegas discussion about a possible crush has morphed into a post-Vegas discussion about your nuptials."

  "And impending divorce."

  Adelia pouted. "Really? I did not see that coming."

  Seven clicked on her turn signal then eased into the parking lot of the nursing home. "But you saw me getting married to Jax?" She rolled her eyes. "Come on, give me a little credit for being the most responsible person you know."

  Adelia harrumphed.

  "People make drunken mistakes, and obviously, I wasn't exempt, as surprising as that is to both of us." She forced a laugh. "Which is why God made divorce attorneys—ohh." Seven cocked her eyebrow as she parked and stared at Adelia. "You're my divorce hookup."

  Lenora Appleton was a prominent attorney in Sweet Hills. She was the first phone call when Mayhem needed legal counsel or a quick bail out of jail, and behind closed doors of Sweet Hills society, she was also Tex's old lady, making her the pseudo-stepmom to Adelia. Even if Adelia's dad wasn't with Lenora, Seven could've asked, and Lenora would have discreetly processed what was needed for a quickie divorce. "Can you call her after we see my mom?"

  Adelia pushed her bottom lip out. "Do I have to be part of ruining this fairy tale?"

  Seven groaned. "Have your own. Plus, Jax and I can still do whatever he and I… do. We just don't need to be bound by a legal contract."

  "For a woman who nearly crawled out of her skin when Ryder and Victoria got together, I cannot believe you're poo-pooing this."

  "My wedding day can't involve Jell-O shooters."

  Adelia let her eyebrow creep up. "Maybe your wedding day was supposed to teach you to loosen up a bit, darlin'."

  "Right, and maybe I'm going to magically learn a better way to cope with my anxiety than my ridiculous compulsions when I pop in to see my mom. Same likelihood of life-changing epiphanies." Seven shouldn't complain. Her OCD was minor and far more manageable compared to what it could be. But when ideas got planted in her head, they were hard to let go. "Tell Lenora it's important. I'd like to have whatever I need for Jax to sign by the time he gets off of his assignment."

  Adelia's heartbreaking frown could've been for both of them. "If that's what you think is best."

  What was best and what was responsi
ble were on opposite sides of Iowa. "I do."

  She shifted into Park, and a motorcycle a few parking spaces over caught her eye. Narrowing her gaze, Seven looked to see who she recognized, and Adelia followed her stare.

  "Who is that?"

  "I don't know." Seven turned off her car and pocketed the keys in her purse. They didn't know everybody who rode a Harley in Sweet Hills. But more often than not, they did, and it wasn't normal to see one there.

  "Let's go," Adelia said. "Maybe there's a hot biker for me to flirt with after I talk to your mama."

  Seven laughed. "Maybe." Adelia's outlook on love and relationships vastly differed from Seven's, which was surprising since they'd had vaguely familiar upbringings. Adelia's had been far more traumatic. Both of their dads were criminal pieces of shit, or rather, Adelia's biological father was. Tex was a rock star in Seven's book. But he hadn't come along until Adelia was a teenager.

  They got out and walked toward the check-in, pausing when they passed the Harley.

  Adelia ambled closer. "What the… Who is that?"

  Seven shrugged. "I don't care. So long as it's not Johnny, if they're here to visit my mom, I'm sure she's good with company."

  Loud voices marred the normally serene foyer of the nursing home as they walked in, and the hairs on the back of Seven's neck spiked. "What do you think that's about?"

  "Old folks gone wild?"

  They picked up the pace, rounding the corner. And there stood Cullen Blackburn.

  "Motherfucker," Adelia whispered.

  Seven choked on air. Why was her father there? Adelia's hand found Seven's and gave it a quick squeeze but didn't let go.