by Ashley Lane
Averting my eyes from the piece of shit, I search out Oakley again and find her half walking, half stumbling while carrying a tray laden with cocktails. Walking toward her is Bree, also carrying a tray, but hers is filled with a dozen or so flaming blue shots.
A beat of silence hangs in the air, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as a premonition of dread consumes me. The next moments seem to happen in slow motion and I’m helpless to do anything but to sit here and watch.
First, there’s a splash from the tank that sends a spray of water over the crowd. Second, Malcolm extends his foot, deliberately causing Bree to trip. Her tray flies through the air as though it’s being pulled by an invisible rope.
Before Jax and I can even get to our feet, the tray of flaming shots hits Oakley square in the face, and she screams.
CHAPTER 17
ANGEL
I divert my attention immediately to Malcolm who’s pushing through the throngs of people now rushing to Oakley. Shoving my way through the tables and chairs, I lunge forward and the breath rushes from my chest as I land on top of him and we both slam to the ground, his body cushioning my fall.
Before I can comprehend my actions, my fingers spear into his hair, taking it in my fist and pounding his face into the concrete.
“You fucking sick bastard, I’ll fucking kill you!” I get two more slams in, taking sick satisfaction when I hear the crack as his nose gives way before he rolls violently, trying to reverse our positions.
“Get the fuck off me,” he shouts.
The first punch lands on his jaw and I relish the new wave of pain in his eyes.
“The fuck is wrong with you!” he snarls, throwing his fists. He grazes the side of my jaw and kicks out in an attempt to free himself.
“Thought no one would see that, didn’t you? Guess what motherfucker—I did.”
Malcolm smiles, blood oozes from his nose and coats his teeth. “It was worth it to watch her burn.”
His words set fire to my monster within—I don’t hold him back from the flames. Instead, I set him free, letting him climb through my body to Malcolm’s, enveloping him until I’m vibrating from the rage within.
In an instant, my fingers release the hold on his hair and before I can blink, they’re wrapped around his throat. The sounds of the night are muted, only the roaring of blood pumping through my veins can be heard. I’m lost—transfixed on the way my knuckles have turned white, gripping his windpipe between my thumb and finger.
Red seeps into my vision and I focus on it. Malcolm’s hands scratch and claw at me, trying uselessly to pull my hand away from where I’m bleeding the life from his eyes.
Suddenly, in one swift movement, I’m yanked off Malcolm and thrown to the ground. Fists clenched, ready to fight, I leap to my feet only to find Rhys standing in front of me, pale and wide eyed as fuck.
Malcolm is rolling on the ground, clutching his throat and trying to catch his breath. When I lunge for him again, a strong, steady hand touches my arm. “Boss… this—this isn’t the time…” He pauses and glances around at a few hundred witnesses. “Or the place,” he adds.
Malcolm finally gets his bearings and stares me down as though I’m intimidated by him. The stupid fuck. I stare back, taunting him. “You can run, but you can’t hide. Your time for confession is coming.”
Malcolm’s eyes go wide because he fucking knows what that means. He’s fucked. When he makes a break for the exit, Rhys calls security to follow him out.
“Let me handle everything here…” he trails off before glancing over my shoulder. “I think there’s somewhere you need to be.”
Oakley. Seeing my panic, Rhys pats my shoulder.
“He took her upstairs.”
I push through the crowd, relieved to see that the party is back in full swing. Making my way up the stairs, my mind is on Oakley, hoping like hell she wasn’t injured or burned by the alcohol. When I reach the office, I unlock the door then throw it open.
My feet freeze in place at the scene before me. Jax is sitting on the large leather sofa with Oakley curled up impossibly small in his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Her head is nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair and whispers against her ear. Minutes pass as I stand and watch them. Oakley—so fragile, yet so beautiful—shaking and crying. And Jax—my strong, steady Jax—calming her. Like he does for me, Jax has her swathed in a blanket of protection only he can offer.
Over Oakley’s head, Jax meets my stare. A thousand words are exchanged between us in that moment, and yet not a sound is made. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but somehow this beautiful, scarred woman has wormed her way under our skin.
In the past when we’ve shared women, it was always a heat of the moment decision. We both appreciate the soft, sweet curves of a woman’s body. There has never been any jealousy because the woman in question was never a threat. She was a means to an end. A moment of ecstasy we couldn’t deny. We may have shared our bodies with women, but we never shared our hearts.
Standing here, watching Jax hold Oakley the same way he holds me, I expect the onslaught of jealousy to overtake me. But all I can manage to feel is relief that she’s okay. Relief that he’s got her, because I know with every ounce of my being that Jax has the strength to save us both.
Jax eyes the seat next to him, a silent command for me to sit down. When I’m settled in the seat, Oakley breaks free from Jax’s strong hold and throws herself against my chest. My eyes close as her body molds against me. Her soft curves fit beautifully against the hard planes of my muscles. Nothing could have prepared me for the wave of contentment I feel when my arms close around her.
It crashes against me with the force of a hurricane, and I’m helpless to do anything but drown. I don’t want to fight it. I go willingly, diving deeper into the unknown. I take a breath and let the metaphorical abyss invade my body; it rushes through me, penetrating every cell until I can no longer remember a time before her.
I open my eyes to find Jax staring at me intently—a reflection of my own emotions mirrored back through his eyes. Jax gives me a subtle nod and a soft smile. The smile he gives me when we’ve made love. In that moment, Oakley becomes mine… His. Ours.
Oakley whimpers and I’m pulled back to the moment, my entire focus shifting to her. “Baby…” I whisper, my bloodied hand cupping the side of her face.
She pulls away from my chest and gives me her beautiful green eyes that are so full of sorrow it’s almost as though it’s bleeding from her heart. “I’m sorry—” She hiccups before another round of sobs shake her body. “I… I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, I mean yeah—I was a little dizzy…” she trails off as she tries to catch her breath. “But then all I saw was the f—f—fire.” She chokes on a sob.
Keeping my hand on the nape of her neck, I pull her tighter against me, wishing for all the world she could pull the strength from my body, even if it leaves me weak. I press my lips against her hair and breathe in the scent of her. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
I can’t admit out loud yet that if anyone is to blame, it’s me. Malcolm should have been gone a long time ago if he hadn’t been there tonight, this never would have happened. The knowledge is yet another burden I have to bear, but it won’t be one I carry long. Malcolm’s time is coming. When he finally dies by my hands, his soul will leave this earth sinking down to the pits of hell taking the weight he caused with him.
Beside me, Jax nudges my shoulder and tips his head down at an almost sleeping Oakley. “I think we should get her home.”
Jax stands first and glances back at me. “I’m going to pull my truck around to the front and let Shelly know she’s coming home with us.” Before he leaves, he leans down and presses his lips against mine holding them there. He pulls away, his eyes on Oakley before they lift to meet mine again. He opens his mouth, but I silence him with a shake of my head. “We’ll talk when we get home. Let’s get her into bed firs
t.”
Jax nods and brushes a kiss against Oakley’s forehead before he turns to leave. When he’s gone, I drop my own kiss to her face, but unlike Jax, mine whispers across her parted lips. Several minutes later, my phone vibrates in my pocket and I know it’s Jax telling me he’s pulled the truck around. Tightening my grip on Oakley, I hold her firmly against my chest and stand from the couch before carrying her out to the waiting truck.
***
JAX
No words are spoken as Maddox climbs in the back seat of my truck, his grip on Oakley never wavering. I wait until he gives me a nod that he’s all set before I pull away from Corrupt. The ride to my apartment continues in near silence, only soft murmurs from the radio fill the cab. It’s a comfortable silence, a silence I’m used to with Maddox. Words aren’t always needed, sometimes we just have to be in the moment, together.
Oakley is dead to the world after what I’m sure was an intense adrenaline crash. I’m positive hushed whispers won’t wake her, but something tells me Maddox and I both need this time to process everything that’s happened.
From the moment I found Oakley behind Corrupt, hiding from Malcolm’s poisonous words, I knew she was special. Something about her called to me even then, and I can’t help but wonder if my soul knew before I did what she was going to mean to me… to us.
There’s no mistaking the longing on Maddox’s face when he looks at her. I’ll never deny that I look at her the same way. I don’t think it was an accident that Oakley Anderson fell into our lives. I may not know what the future holds for us, but I have a feeling it’s going to be more than we could have ever imagined.
We finally reach my building and I park in my designated spot before putting the truck in park and switching the ignition off. Closing the door behind me, I move around to the back door and open it for Maddox, all the while trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Oakley. She’s still secure in Maddox’s arms, but it makes it difficult for him to ease himself out of the truck, so I take her in my arms and wait.
She doesn’t wake as we make our way inside, and while Maddox locks up, I carry our sleeping beauty straight to the bedroom.
Crossing the threshold to my bedroom with a woman in my arms is something I never expected to experience. I’ve enjoyed the pleasure of countless women in my life—more than several have been shared with Maddox. But I was never under the guise that when I finally settled down, it would be with a woman. I never knew if it was just because I was so in love with Maddox, or because I hadn’t met the right woman to make me forget him. But now, in this moment, I realize it’s because none of them were her.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice Maddox until he slips past me and moves to his side of the bed. With practiced ease, he strips his shirt off, leaving his jeans in place before he slips beneath the covers. Once he’s settled, he pulls the blanket back, his arms open, waiting for me to lay Oakley against him.
I balance a knee on the bed and carefully place her back in his arms. Oakley turns as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and melts into his hold. Her nose nuzzles deeper until it fits flush in the crook of his neck.
I slip out of my shoes before I strip my own shirt off. Once it’s joined Maddox’s clothes on the floor, I carefully remove Oakley’s shoes, discarding them amongst ours.
I slip into bed and Maddox hands me the edge of the blanket so I can pull it across me and Oakley. Leaving her nose where it is, tucked up against Maddox, her body scoots back, seeking my warmth. I settle my arm around her, and it brushes against Maddox’s. It’s several minutes before either of us speaks.
“What are we doing?” Madd’s whispered question breaks the silence. Needing to see him, I use the arm not holding Oakley to lift my head, giving me a clear view. But his eyes aren’t on me, they’re on Oakley. My own eyes drift there too, and I can’t help the way my hold on her tightens.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Silence stretches again and Maddox releases a shaky breath. There’s a hint of panic in his tone. “Whatever this is… please tell me you feel it too.”
“Do you really need to ask me that?” I say.
Angel finally turns to face me. His eyes drift over Oakley. The way I hold her is the same way I’ve held him a thousand times before.
“No, I guess I don’t,” Angel admits, still gazing at her sleeping so perfectly between us. “She fits here, Jax.” The wistful expression on his face, and the tone of his voice gives away his emotions. He’s hopeful and excited, but there’s fear in his eyes too. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Maddox,” I start, but he cuts me off, his whisper gaining a hard edge. “No Jax, I need you to know—you’ve always been enough for me. And yeah, there are years of actions that prove otherwise, but right here, right now, before we take these next steps, I want you to know that you were always enough.”
My nose burns as his words hit their mark. Like balm to my still mending heart, they wrap around the jagged edges and soothe the years of hurt. I never knew how much I needed those words until this moment.
Damn, Maddox. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I can’t kiss the fuck out of you.” I attempt to lighten the heavy mood but despite my intentions my words are growled and tinged with lust.
Maddox laughs under his breath and his arm, wrapped around Oakley, moves until he reaches my hand and links our fingers. Together, we curl around Oakley, holding her and each other.
I’m just about to drift off to sleep when I hear Angel’s voice. “I wasn’t expecting her.”
It’s such a simple statement, but the meaning hits me like a battering ram. I wasn’t expecting her either. Yet here she is, fitting between us like she was always meant to be here, and we’ve just been waiting for her. I don’t answer Maddox, instead I wait, sensing he needs to work through this on his own.
His last whisper cements our future. “Maybe she’s what we’ve been missing.”
CHAPTER 18
OAKLEY
I snuggle deeper into the covers in an attempt to hide from the sense of awareness chasing away my sleep. After several minutes of not dozing back into my dreams, my eyes peek open, but slam closed when the harsh sunlight registers.
I groan as my lids squeeze together, trying to blink away the pain of the daylight and turn my face into the pillow. I take a deep breath and freeze as the smell of the sheets penetrates my brain.
Oh shit.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Still breathing in the masculine scent of the sheets, I attempt to calm my racing thoughts and piece together the fragments of last night’s memories.
It was the big night at the club. We’d been prepping for Corrupted Mermaids night for weeks. Shelly and Tasha took charge and delegated tasks to everyone else. What could have ended in disaster worked like a charm. The entire indoor and outdoor areas of Corrupt were transformed in a matter of hours. It was amazing!
But back to last night… the last thing I remember is talking to Nick. Malcolm walked up and… air rushes from my lungs in a loud gasp that takes my breath away. Flames flash behind my closed eyes and suddenly I can feel the heat as the tray of flaming shots brushed over me.
I ball the sheet in my hands and bring it to my chin. When I take in a deep, calming breath, the scent on the sheets washes over me with alarming familiarity. Angel… my boss.
Fuuuuuck. Thankfully, my groan of despair is muffled by the pillow when I turn my face into it to hide my shame. No one needs to witness the pity fest that’s about to ensue.
No longer fuzzy, the memories from last night pour in with painful clarity. Tasha—bless her heart—tripped and spilled her tray on me. A tray that was most unfortunately covered with flaming shots.
The worst part? There were around two hundred people—including my coworkers—that had a front row seat to my panic attack.
And then, as if things couldn’t get any worse—because let’s face it, this is me we’re talking about he
re—I find comfort in not just one man, but TWO. And the worst, worst, worst part? I can very clearly remember alternating, sharing my affection between them. I groan. Only you, Oakley… Only you would have the hots for TWO men who happen to be LOVERS.
Oh my God, please take me now. You don’t even have to let me inside, just set me up in a little shack outside the gates and I promise, you won’t have to hear from me again.
Apparently, God isn’t interested in my wager because despite waiting several seconds for Angels to come take me home, I’m still here, lying in a bed I shared with two men last night. Two incredibly hot and sweet and—for fuck’s sake. No. Bad Oakley. Badbadbad.
I glance at the ruffled sheets and decide to amend my earlier statement. The worst, worst, worst part is knowing I shared the bed with them, and I don’t remember a lick of it.
I silently curse the ways of the world. Why couldn’t those be the moments I remembered?
Sounds from behind the closed bedroom door make their way to my ears and I barely refrain from pulling the covers over my head and hiding like a child. Maybe if I stay here all day, they’ll forget about me. I can wait until I hear them leave and make a run for it.
Before I can give any real consideration to the thought, my bladder screams, reminding me that I was a little heavy handed with the Mermaid Tears last night. Since I’m in such a mood, I send out a silent curse to Rhys as well. After all, they were his delicious creations. He doesn’t really have anything to do with this, but it’s my pity party and I can blame who I want to.
I pout several more minutes before my bladder spasms, warning me that if I don’t get my ass up and do the walk of shame outta here, I’ll soon find myself wetting my bosses bed. Since I’ll die before I let that happen, I gingerly pull the covers away from my—oh thank god—still clothed body and stand from the bed.