Jaxon Prayer (Jaxon Prayer Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel West

  “I know.”

  “You were lying to me this entire time.”

  “Yes,” he responds simply.

  “Why would you do this to me?”

  “I have done nothing to you.”

  “You made me trust you.”

  Jaxon stands up and approaches me. I back away until I am pressed against the wall but he keeps coming closer. We are only inches apart when he speaks. “That was your choice. Does this knowledge really change anything?”

  “You are no different than you father,” I snap. “You’re a liar and a coward. The worst kind of man.”

  Hate flashes across Jaxon’s face, a white hot rage that tells me my words have struck a cord somewhere deep within hm. He leans into me, his face only inches from mine. “Yes. That is exactly right. I am no different than him. Do you want to know what kind of man I am, Evie Reinhardt? Your

  friend. Red. I saw him nearly die once, and I cheered for it,” he hisses against my cheek, “because that’s the kind of man I am. Because someone was finally going to take down the reigning champion. But of course that didn’t happen. Your friend, he cut the man’s legs out from under him and then he cut his throat. Maybe I’m not the only monster you surround yourself with. Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Maybe we are not so different after all.”

  “Get away from me,” I back into the wall as far as I can. “You lied to me. I thought you were different. But you’re not. You’re just like the rest of them. The Millennials. You’re monsters. All of you.”

  “Yes,” he responds. “We are. Does it please you to see me like this? A Millennial. Fallen. So cowed by his Father he fled to here,” Jaxon makes a sweeping gesture around my apartment with a clenched fist.

  I lift my hand to push him away. My fingers splay out on his chest and I feel his ragged heartbeat. The desperate rise and fall of his breath. I think of a man having his own son whipped and the damage it would do to more than just flesh. And I can’t do it. I can’t push him away because there is something more there. I can feel it.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Jaxon says but the fight has gone from his voice.

  “Like what,”

  “Like you pity me,” He sneers but I see the anger deflate from him. His shoulders slump and he backs away leaving my arm hanging out between us.

  I rub at my eye because for some stupid reason I am crying and it make no sense because I should have known better all along. I should have known not to trust a Millennial. And maybe I need him right now, but whatever was growing between us has vanished. “Once we have rescued my sister I want you gone.”

  For an instant, I see something in Jaxon’s face that makes me want to reach out and pull my words back, but then it is gone, and his eyes are empty again and I close my heart to him because I have learned my lesson and I will not be burned again.

  “I never expected anything less,” Jaxon whispers.

  CHAPTER 11

  After a restless night of sleep I wake to silence. A moment of panic strikes me as I wonder if Jaxon left. I can’t blame him if he has. After the things I said –

  I crawl from my bed, running my hands nervously through my hair. The thought of him being gone – of waking up to an empty apartment. I shake off the anxious itch that runs down my spine. Jaxon is exactly where he is supposed to be – sitting on my ragged old couch.

  “Morning,” I offer.

  Jaxon looks up at me, but then turns back to the tablet in his hands without a word. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the air between us. I think of our argument yesterday. The things I said. How I wish I could take some of them back.

  Now that I’ve had a moment to think; some time to calm down – I can’t blame him for not telling me the truth. I think – I think maybe I feel something for him I shouldn’t and that is the reason I was so angry. Jaxon may be the Millennial, but I was the only one being cruel.

  Jaxon swipes worriedly at the glass tablet in his hands. His eyes narrow at the screen as if he’s searching for answers but can’t find them.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask hesitantly.

  “I have not heard back from Darren,” Jaxon replies.

  “Oh,” I say but don’t know where to go from there. I feel like I should apologize. Like we should talk.

  “Listen, I’m—“

  Jaxon hold his hand up, cutting off my apology.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I ask.

  “That.” Jaxon tilts his head to one side – listening to some sound in the distance.

  I walk over to the window and push the curtain aside. A commotion comes from outside. I peer through the side of the window, trying to find the angle that lets me see past the alleyway and into the street.

  “Praetors,” I whisper. I don’t know how many but they are out there. A handful go into the building across from mine. Like ants, they march up the stairwell. I catch only a glimpse of them as they break off into smaller groups. Their fists bang against doorways, shoving aside those who answer.

  Suddenly I hear the same sound in my own building. A loud, shattering crash as they break down the front entrance.

  “How did they find us?” Jaxon whispers.

  “I don’t think they have,” I tell him, “They’re probably searching everywhere. They know you landed somewhere in the slums and they know you had someone with you. Listen –“ the two of us stand quietly, listening to the sounds of the Praetors moving through the apartment below us. “They’re searching all the apartments. They have no idea where you are.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Jaxon says.

  “No. Go – out onto the fire escape. You need to hide. They’ll find me alone in here and they won’t question it.”

  Jaxon takes a step towards me and lifts one arm pleadingly. “Come with me.”

  "No. Go!" I shout. I push Jaxon towards the window. Fire burns in my throat as I realize the end I have been expecting has finally come. I hear their boots as they pound through the building. The heavy sound of them knocking on the neighbors door. My palms bead with sweat. Jaxon is moving slow, too slow. I push him towards the window; rushing him forward. He cries out with pain, the whip marks on his back aggravated by our fall from the skies.

  I have to hold myself back from throwing the window open. Now is the time to be quiet. I inch it open slowly, hoping no one hears the squeak as it catches halfway up. "Be quiet," I tell him.

  "Should I go into the alley?"

  I chew the inside of my cheek with indecision. The fire escape seems too close, if the Praetors are in my apartment all it would take is one look out the window and it would be over. But the Praetors are smart. At Darren’s they had all the exits covered. It’s too dangerous to risk.

  “No. Stay on the fire escape.”

  Jaxon nods silently and there is a tenseness in his shoulders I’ve never seen before.

  “Don’t make a sound.”

  I move to pull the window shut but Jaxon reaches out and grabs both my wrists. He pulls me forward until my face is near to his and I can see the paleness of his cheeks. His pupils have widened until there is almost nothing left but blackness in his eyes. “Be careful,” he says and his voice is tight and hoarse like he’s swallowed a mouthful of liquor.

  “Don’t worry.” I try to sound reassuring because I see the fear in his eyes. No – not just fear. Terror. As the footsteps of the Praetors march up my stairs I look into Jaxon’s eyes and remember how he was so adamant he couldn’t go back. I wonder what he’s left behind, what has him so frightened? What has his father done to him?

  His grip on my wrists is vice-like. I shake him off and he lets go of me slowly, almost regretfully. I slide the window shut quietly and yank the curtain over it. My last glance is Jaxon peering anxiously through the small crack left between curtain and wall. I motion him away with a sharp gesture. Any hint of another and the ruse is up.

  I glance around my apartment, knowing how little time I have left, an
d check for anything that might give me away. A bang on my door has my heart leaping into throat. There’s no time. No time for anything anymore. I hurry to the door, and as I do grab the blanket and pillow on the couch and quickly shove them underneath. I kick my broken synthblade under my bed, knowing if I am caught with the weapon it would mean my arrest. I look around my apartment, then after one last wipe of my sweaty palms across my pants, I pull the door open.

  There are four of them. I stare up and remember the last time the Praetors came into my home. The night my mother was murdered and my sister stolen away from me. A tremble begins by my heart and spreads through my whole body until all I can do is pray the Praetors don’t see it. Their shiny helmets are like beetle sclerites hiding away their humanity.

  “Can I help you?” my mouth is dry like sandpaper and the words come out sounding mangled.

  The largest of the Praetors grabs my shoulder and pushes me out of the way. The three others fan out into my apartment, each in a different direction. The first Praetor shoves me against the wall. My shoulder blade cracks against hard wood and it takes everything in me not to cry out but I will not give them the satisfaction. Numbness spreads from by back down into my limbs. After the fall two nights ago – my body cannot take much more abuse.

  He rubs his hands across my body. I tense and try to pull away but he uses one arm to press my shoulders and neck against the wall and with the other searches for a weapon.

  “Get your hands off me,” I snarl, knowing nothing I say can stop the violation but I can’t let him think I am so weak that I would just accept it.

  The Praetor laughs. “Shut up, little girl.” He spins me around and pushes my face against the wall. My teeth bite into my cheek and the taste of blood fills my mouth. I’ll I can do is tremble quietly as he presses his hands against my back, my hips.

  The way he manhandles me, like I am nothing; I feel like a little girl. A child with a monster hiding in the closet. I am certain this is the end. That they will find Jaxon. That the Praetors will tear me apart and break me down.

  “Anything?” My guard calls out.

  “Nothing.”

  “Empty.”

  The Praetor holding me steps back. I turn back to face them but keep my back pressed against the wall because right now it’s the only thing holding me upright.

  “Move out,” the Praetor calls and the other three form up behind him. My knees tremble and threaten to give out. It was all over so quickly. So efficiently. I wonder again what a fool I must be to have involved myself with Millennials.

  The sound of my window opening causes me to flinch. If it was the Praetors again I could have done nothing. They could cut me down right here and I won’t be able to lift a hand to fight back.

  “Are you alright?” Jaxon asks quietly.

  I force myself to look up at him, trying to respond, but all I can make is a quiet keening sound deep in my throat. My stomach burns like I’m going to be sick and I slide down the wall, unable to support myself any longer.

  Jaxon rushes into the kitchen and pulls a glass from the cabinet. He fills it with water then returns to me, crouching down by my side.

  “Here.” He holds out the water. I don’t want it, or anything from him, but I take it anyway because it’s the thing to do. Water sloshes over the edge in my trembling fingers. I take a small sip and somehow the liquid does soothe the burn in my gut.

  “This too,” Jaxon says and he drops his jacket around my shoulders. And it’s stupid because I’m not even cold a little bit and it seems like such a pointless gesture. But I pull the jacket around me and hold it tightly into my hands. My fingers dig into the soft cloth and it’s like the threads of it are holding me together. All I want to do is cry but even that part of me doesn’t seem to be working right.

  I hate myself for my weakness. How I just let the Praetors storm into my home. To violate my privacy in a way I would let no other. How I stood there and took it. I know, deep in my heart, I know had I done anything different Jaxon would be gone and I’d be staring down the executioner.

  “I am sorry for this.”

  “Why did you come here? I mean – I get that you left because of your father. But why here?”

  “The cameras.”

  “What?”

  “Father was complaining about how much money was wasted replacing the cameras around here. I know it was the one place where his spying eye could not find me.”

  “You mean the Great Uniter? When you say “father” you mean the Great Uniter.”

  “Yes.”

  From the way he refuses to meet my eye I know I will get nothing further from him. For the first time the Millennial exterior is gone and I see a boy who is just as frustrated and frightened as I am. And even though everything that has gone wrong is because of what he is– who he is – I still want to reach out and tell him everything will be okay. That we will get through this. That he can stay as long as he needs. I wish I could take away all the things I said last night but the memory of it hangs between us.

  I look away and suddenly I am trembling for a different reason. I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to care about him. Jaxon is a Millennial and his father is everything wrong with this world. I watch the pulse of his heartbeat in his throat. I can feel his eyes on me but it’s impossible to bring up my own.

  I don't want to be the first to break the silence; to crack the stillness that surrounds us like a frozen pond in the last weeks of winter.

  Another crash comes from just outside my door and my heart leaps into my throat but this time it’s too late to do anything. Jaxon must have realized the same because he rises smoothly to his feet and faces the door. He steps slightly closer to me, blocking my view of anything but the back of his knees. I want to laugh, because it’s such a stupid, pointless gesture. The Praetors will drag him home and drag me to prison. But I think if I open my mouth I might start crying so I bite down on my cheeks and try to face my end with as much dignity I can muster.

  “Evie!”

  “Red?” Jaxon steps aside and Red runs towards me. I open my mouth to say something further, but laughter bubbles up like vomit and all I can do is stare at him, laughing so hard that tears burn in my eyes. It’s Red. Just Red and not the Praetors.

  “Did they come here? They’re everywhere Evie. Looking for him.”

  I nod into my knees then bring my face up. I rub at the tears in my eyes because all I can see is the blurry outline of Red and Jaxon staring anxiously at me.

  “What did you do to her?” Red looms over Jaxon.

  “Nothing. I did nothing,” Jaxon replies, but he looks around helplessly like he’s not quite sure of himself.

  “Get out.”

  “What?” Jaxon asks.

  “Get out,” Red growls menacingly. “You’re not welcome here any longer.”

  “That is not your decision to make,” Jaxon replies.

  “Get out!” Red swings wildly with one fist at Jaxon. I am too far away to do anything but shout a startled cry for them to stop but my words are ignored.

  Jaxon sidesteps from the first punch and I imagine what it must be like to have Red bearing down on you. Red is taller, thick where Jaxon is thin, and one of the best fighters in the Coliseum.

  For the second attack Jaxon stands his ground. He shoots his own hand out whip-quick and grabs onto Red’s hand mid-punch. I can see the surprise in Red’s face and the tremble in Jaxon’s arm and I wonder which of them will break first.

  “Do not touch me,” Jaxon snarls. He throws Red’s fist to the side and Red is too startled to do anything but watch it happen. Jaxon turns his back on Red and I don’t think he could have found a better insult. Red’s face contorts with rage. I jump to my feet and grab onto Red’s elbow just as he lunges forward at Jaxon.

  Jaxon pauses, as if he heard the scuffle behind him, but makes no effort to avoid an attack. He is nearly to the door when I call out to him.

  “Wait,” I stretch my arm out to him
, as if I can hold him back from where I stand across the room. I remember our fight from yesterday. I remember the hurt he tried to hide. I remember telling him to go. And I do everything I can to wipe it clean.

  “Please stay.”

  ***

  My apartment feels too full with Red and Jaxon in here together. Both of them simmer quietly on opposite sides of the room. Jaxon lounges on the couch with his arms stretched out to each side; his easy pose nothing but a taunt to Red.

  Red leans over the counter that separates kitchen from living room. He’s laid his two knives out in front of him. A threat to Jaxon – a dare. I can feel the vibrations of their separate angers with me caught between the two of them.

  Someone needs to say something; someone needs to break the silence and I will have to suck it up because I am the reason both of them are here.

  “Red, we found where Annie is. We know what farm to find her on.”

  Red’s eyes widen as he looks at me “Are you sure?”

  “Quite certain,” Jaxon answers before I have the chance to.

  “Are you sure?” Red asks again this time pointedly staring at me.

  “Yeah. We’re sure.”

  I jump from my chair and rummage under my bed for the hidden map. I pull out my synthblade and set it on my bed then from behind that I find the small box that holds the map. “Look, here.” I lay out the map flat on my kitchen table and smooth the edges down.

  Jaxon comes up and stands behind me. He lays the glass tablet on one corner of the table with a smaller, more complete version of the map on its surface. He studies the two for a moment before grabbing a pen and circling one of the farms.

  “She will be here. A239.”

  Red walks over and all three of us stare at the small circle. It seems so innocuous, so simple, yet contained within are all my hopes and dreams.

  “How far is it?” Red asks.

  “About 130 miles,” Jaxon answers, “It will take ten days to walk there. Maybe more.”

  Red makes a sound low in his throat but he doesn’t ask the question of me again.

  “How will we get out of the city?” Red questions.