Jax

by Cristin Harber

  No… "Yes!" They'd agreed most wouldn't make it past the end of the year. Jax had said a few of the couples wouldn't make it past the end of the month. But she bit her tongue at that realization, eyes wide open, because it was Seven who'd said she bet they would last forever.

  Heat hit her cheeks, but it wasn't embarrassment. She had pushed that first domino, causing the chain of reactions to where they stood now.

  "We can't get married." Jax picked up her hand. "No engagement ring. There's been no proposal."

  She rolled her eyes then took the last bite of her cake between her fingers and pushed it to his lips, giggling as he finished the bite then licked the last of the icing.

  "I don't need a ring. I don't want anything."

  "You're crazy, Seven."

  "For you. So. Very. True."

  He pulled her close and kissed her. "Tell me what you want."

  "Simple." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just you. Jax."

  "That sounded a helluva lot like a proposal, princess. Better be careful. Otherwise, I'll take you up on that."

  "I forgot about the part where this was my idea." Seven pulled away, convinced this was the perfect time to rearrange her laundry. When he took her by the elbow, she grimaced. "Now's as good of a time as ever to tell you that I have a… nervous tic."

  He let go of her elbow, reached for the counter, and tossed a hand towel her way. "Fold it all you want. If it makes you feel better, I don't care."

  "It's more like a compulsion at times."

  "Do you want to talk about that now instead of divorcing me?" he asked.

  She smoothed the towel on the table. "I'd rather not discuss either."

  "Your plan was to never pick up the phone again?" Jax smiled. "Seems very un-Seven-like."

  "Similar to marrying someone in Vegas. It goes hand in hand." Methodically folding the towel was so simple. "I didn't think about how or why we were married. I only tried to fix what wasn't planned. Look, I have to focus on my kids. That's it. Not me. Not you. Them."

  Jax pulled away abruptly. "Sorry to drop a rainbow bomb on all your self-sacrifice, but your belief in smiles and sunshine is supposed to surpass all of my grumblings. Your hair is pink for God's sakes. It's a happy freakin' color because you're a true believer in this stuff. Don't shy away from me now because something didn't go as planned. That's life, and you roll with it."

  "You're not supposed to roll with marriage."

  He closed in on her. "You are if you love the guy."

  The world stopped spinning. Seven stopped breathing. Jax's piercing eyes glared, and his hard-set jaw clenched as though he challenged her to say anything but the truth she had been denying.

  There weren't enough ways to tell him how grateful she was to him for bringing her kids home, how much they idolized him, and how desperately she needed him. She couldn't begin to count the times she'd smiled by herself, knowing she loved him.

  How many masters do you serve? Seven squeezed her eyes shut, unable to get her father out of her head. Nolan had had nightmares every night since he'd come home, and Bianca was even more wary of the world than she had been before the kidnapping.

  "I have to focus on them. Not me." Seven reached for the pen, and—Jax grabbed it and threw it across the room. "What the—?"

  "Do you know what scares me?" he asked.

  She was shaken by the somberness in his tone and how he'd launched the pen away. "Nothing scares you."

  He laughed hollowly and stared out the dining room window before moving to the living room. Seven followed, and Jax put his hands on her shoulders, guiding her to the couch, but didn't join her. Instead, he paced the area rug for what felt like hours as he battled whatever his internal demon was.

  "Are you okay?" But really, what was the answer? She was asking for a divorce from a marriage she was scared of wanting.

  Jax stopped and pulled an ottoman in front of her then sat so they were eye to eye. "You think I'm not terrified to lose you?" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I never thought about the future outside of my SEAL team, and Carrie probably never thought about hers outside the Agency. But you? Seven…"

  Seven's stomach turned, not in jealousy but from the unknown and distant sadness she couldn't pinpoint. She hated the idea that he'd been hurt and that she'd called him out on a pain she couldn't comprehend.

  Jax dropped his hand. "Until I crashed into you? I thought I knew what sharing my life with another person was about, and I didn't know that part was incomplete until I met you—and your dynamic duo."

  "Jax, stop." Why did he have to say things like that? "There are so many parts of me that you don't know or even like."

  "Like what?"

  Cullen Blackburn was too complicated a discussion. "Mayhem."

  Jax cackled. "You have no idea what I think about Mayhem. You haven't asked, and my opinion is evolving."

  She rubbed her temples. "Why are you—"

  Fighting for me?

  So perfect?

  Stronger than me?

  The list could go on, when it seemed like she was drowning. "Just… why?"

  "You're my wife, Seven. That has to count for something."

  Her heart shredded into a thousand bleeding ribbons of love she had to deny. There were so many real-life implications of their carelessness; the worst of which was her falling for him when she had no way to break free from the invisible chains she'd bound herself in. "Please stop talking."

  His heart broke in front of her, and she shattered on the inside, turning to stone on the outside.

  "What a sad fucking joke." Jax's crestfallen face hardened as he walked out. The door slammed behind him, and Seven knew it would be the last time she talked to him.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  The lights in the small office at the back of The Perky Cup were low, and the air smelled like blueberry muffins freshly topped with crystallized sugar. Seven spun a plate littered with scone crumbs and finished her final bite. No matter how many times she went over the bank account statements for the month, there was one day that she just couldn't figure out.

  This month had a day with astronomical sales. Sidney had more than sold out. But that was the problem—he had more than sold out. It was impossible for him to have made as much money on baked goods and coffee as he had. There wasn't enough flour and sugar in all The Perky Cup storage containers to make that many consumables, and on top of that, he had been short-staffed.

  She'd gone through the credit card transactions so many times, she had a headache, and everything matched up. There were no weird charges, which left only cash. Which there was a lot of.

  She stood up and stuck her head out the door. "Sidney, can you come back here one more time?"

  She stared at the list of everything he said he'd sold and what the bank statement reported for deposits. "I hate to beat a dead horse. Again. But there's no way we sold this much. I'm not sure how you have forgotten making and selling an extra"—she hummed as she calculated in her head—"five hundred pastry items in a day, but if this is some sort of charity or you feel bad about what happened and you're trying to…" She let her voice trail off because she had no idea what to say. He didn't have that kind of extra money lying around. "Sidney, what is going on?"

  The bells on the front door jingled, and Sidney turned. "I'm going to go make more mystery money. Try not to freak out when you see it at the bank."

  Seven went back to her desk, still confused. She could just roll with it, or perhaps she was hyperfocused on a nonissue to avoid thinking about Jax.

  Life lesson number… Oh well, she'd lost count by now. Another life lesson learned in very short order: Mental pain was physically anguishing. It had been far too long since she'd seen or talked to Jax, and heartbreak was a real thing. The stars in the sky had lost their diamond shimmer, colors had gone to gray, and maybe she would even look better as a brunette or a blonde.

  The door pushed open, and Adelia popped in. "What the hell? I cal
l, and I text, and no answer." She threw her hands out. "Feeling a little neglected, just so you know."

  "You're not the only one I'm ignoring if it makes you feel any better."

  Adelia's beautiful dark eyes narrowed. "Oh, sweetheart. I know. That's why I'm here. We're going to talk."

  Seven shut her accounting book and pushed her calculator away, giving up on the day. Pretty much giving up on everything at that moment except for sulking. She leaned back in her chair, not wanting to hear what Adelia had to say. Seven's dad had been right. Her mind was focused in too many different directions, and she needed to focus only on one thing—her kids, because she screwed up when she tried to do too much else. They wouldn't have been in danger, they never would have been abducted, if she had just stuck to watching them and earning a living. No Mayhem and no falling in love.

  "Oh God, you're going to cry. You're worse than I thought," Adelia snipped. "We need to talk about Jax."

  Her desk phone rang, and Seven rolled her eyes, not wanting to talk to a vendor, but that was the only thing she was doing because it correlated to providing for her children. "Hang on." She picked up the phone. "This is Seven Blackburn."

  "You are alive," Victoria said. "Put me on speakerphone. I want to hear Adelia also."

  "That's right, beautiful." Adelia smirked at Seven. "This is an intervention."

  Seven rolled her eyes toward Adelia and groaned. "You guys, you're insane. I've been busy."

  Adelia put her hands on her hips and inched closer to the desk. "Victoria gave her supportive 'everybody has their own issues to work through' speech before you went to Vegas. Now it's my turn, and my speech is called 'pull your head out of your ass.'"

  "Co-sign!" Victoria said from speakerphone, giving her agreement.

  "You don't even know what happened. You have no idea what I think or what I'm focused on."

  "Wrong," Adelia said. "You're forgetting that Victoria's a private investigator. Whether or not her hands are in casts doesn't matter. The girl's a first-class snoop. We're going to tell you what we know and what we've decided. Then we're going to help you extract that pretty pink head from your derrière."

  Seven couldn't handle this conversation. "Or you can leave because I have some banking issues to work through."

  Victoria burst out laughing, and Adelia grinned. "We should just hop to it, then. Seems like the crowd's already warmed up."

  Curious, she crossed her arms and decided to listen. "Go on."

  "Do you know what Sweet Hills does best?" Victoria asked.

  "Yeah." Seven laughed as well, noting the irony. "They get in other people's business."

  "Victoria talked to Gennita. Glammas don't miss anything, honey. And when Cullen was dropping his loyalty speech, your neighbor picked up every single, arrogant, awful word." Adelia's smile softened. "You can't just dedicate your life to those kids as an excuse to shelter yourself. You can't make everything perfect for them because of what they went through, and even if you could, it won't make up for what you went through."

  "Plus," Victoria added, "you'll miss out on the best things."

  A knot formed in Seven's throat. "They are the best things."

  "No, honey," Adelia said. "Love is. Family is. Stop suffering to make them happy. Otherwise, you've become Taini, and they've become Mayhem. I don't know what your father is in this metaphor other than your internal self-suffering, but you're creating sacrifice to avoid pain."

  Seven tried to swallow. She wanted to defend secluding herself away from the world but couldn't.

  "Have you talked to Jax lately?" Victoria asked.

  Seven shook her head.

  "She shook her head," Adelia said for the benefit of Victoria. Then she raised her eyebrows and put her hands on the desk, leaning close to Seven. "We know."

  "Of course you do," Seven mumbled.

  "Now for the audio presentation." Adelia grabbed her purse. "There's something you need to hear, and you can thank Victoria for harassing her poor husband."

  "Eh, he can take it," Victoria said.

  "And you can thank Jax," Adelia continued, "for having an attitude bad enough that Titan tapped his phone lines." She pressed the play icon on her cell phone, and Jax's voice flooded the room. Seven wanted to cry simply from hearing the sound of his voice, but the three of them listened as he put Ingrid in place for suggesting Seven didn't want to come to the nursing home, and then paid Sydney to close down the bakery. Jax took care of the costs so the coffee shop wouldn't suffer and made sure her mom would have a trusted face, and he did it all with a few phone calls never meant for her to hear.

  "Now that's a Titan man," Victoria whispered.

  Seven sat back in her chair, and it wasn't until Adelia handed her a tissue that she realized the tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  "Oh God, I've made a terrible mistake."

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  The scent of gun oil permeated the air as Jax finished cleaning his .38 caliber revolver and reassembled it. He checked the grip and appreciated how the solid weight had remained dependable throughout his life. It would fire in anything. Sand. Dirt. He trusted that gun and could recall the first time he picked it up. That cold metal still felt the same some twenty years later.

  As Jax was sighting the gun, Winters walked into the storage locker, and Jax dropped it down. "Hey, man. Wanna go over to the range?"

  There had been a subtle change in the last few weeks since the Vegas conversation with Jared, and Jax didn't think Jared had said anything to the team or that his own attitude had changed. Still, there had been a shift in perspective after news had quietly gotten out about his background and how he'd almost lost those he most cared for.

  Or did lose. But Seven was still breathing, and they were still married so he didn't know what to think.

  "I was on my way up to ask you the same thing, but Brock caught me. He wants to talk to you and said to head over his way."

  Jax nodded, unsure what that was about, but he stored his weapon in a locker and washed his hands then made his way to where he knew Brock was working.

  After a quick knock, Jax walked into a smaller conference room and saw the pile of papers surrounded by multiple cups of coffee that kept his boss going.

  "Winters said you were looking for me."

  "Actually, we're playing a game of messenger. Head on down to the war room."

  Jax pursed his lips together and thought better of asking Brock why when there were four empty cups of caffeine and two weeks' worth of paperwork in front of him. "Will do."

  After a few twists and turns through Titan security, including a retina scan, a thumbprint, then a swipe of his ID badge, Jax reached the other side of headquarters and walked into the war room.

  Or rather, walked into an empty room.

  No signs of life. No cups of coffee. No sign of Boss Man's bulldog. Jax decided to take a seat and give Jared or Parker a minute to show up before texting Brock and—

  The door opened with Seven clinging to its handle.

  "Seven." He hit his feet as his heart jumped. "I had no idea you were here."

  "I was." She pointed toward the hall. "But I went to the bathroom. Now here you are."

  Seven crept into the war room but still hadn't let go of the door handle, and Jax wanted to take her in his arms and just hang on, but the last time he'd seen her… Not a great moment. She had trapped him in here with her divorce papers and excuses. Sucks…

  Even still, he'd never needed to kiss a woman as badly as he did at that moment. "Do you want to come in?"

  Nodding, she finally let go, and the door drifted shut. The click echoed around them. She didn't move to a chair, instead hovering in the open space. He watched intently, trying to figure out why she was at Titan headquarters. "Everything okay?"

  "Yes."

  "I give up, Seven. Just tell me why you're here."

  She squeezed her eyes tight and dropped her chin, and with that painful look, his soul fell too. The day of divorce pape
rs. Damn it.

  "Jax, I don't know if you can ever forgive me."

  He didn't want to hear a speech; he didn't want to hear any of this.

  "But…" Her voice cracked.

  "But…" he repeated and reached for a defense of mock and retaliation. It wasn't there. He couldn't be an asshole, couldn't hurt her because he wished he had her as his wife.

  Flinching, she waited for the verbal punch, but it never landed, and she met his eyes. "I don't know if… you can forgive me. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I hurt you, us. And I probably will never be able to get that back." Tears spilled down her cheeks as he tried to make sense of what she was saying. "If you could ever forgive me—"

  His brow furrowed as he replayed her words. The woman didn't take his calls or texts. "Stop." He swooped forward and pulled her soft body into his arms, exhaling with his smile buried against her hair. "Stop apologizing."

  "It needs to be said." She sniffled. "I screwed up. I saw one thing that wasn't even there when it was just you wanting to be with me the whole time."

  He squeezed her tight and rested his chin on top of her head. "A couple weeks ago, a great man who I thought never made mistakes showed me it's possible to have a filter over your eyes and not know it."

  "What's that have to do with me?" Seven asked.

  "Adelia and Victoria told me that your dad's back and how he got in your face, in your head."

  Seven dropped her eyes as though she were hiding. "I can't believe they did that."

  "I'm glad they did. It helped me understand more about you—and me. I had to forgive myself, princess."

  "Why?"

  "I couldn't save Carrie. I'm not God. It couldn't be done. But I had to forgive myself."

  Seven inched back and tilted her face up. "That's different. I should've known better."

  "Believe it or not, beautiful, I knew I wasn't God."

  "I know my dad and the things he does. I should've seen it and changed courses. He'll never go away." She bit her lip. "He'll try again."