by Paula Cox
Jax answered her question with a soft sigh, and he rested his hand around the gun as he patted her wrist. “How did you manage that?”
“Just had to think of you stepfather, and bingo.” Lena meant it to be a moment of triumph, but Jax hung his head and bit down on his lip.
“You shouldn’t have to think about it,” he muttered. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
“But it did, Jax.”
Under any other man’s eyes, she might feel shamed and want to hide. But Jax grunted softly and pulled her back to his chest as he peered down at her. “Then use it,” he whispered. “If you have to.” The gun was at her thighs as he dragged her deeper into her arms and moaned into her hair. “But let’s hope that it’s a non-starter,” he said. “That I can get you to the other side safely.”
Jax’s tee still clung to her shivering flesh, and she reached for his lips and kissed him. His mouth was light and sweet, and Lena clasped him close. “I hope so, too,” she said. “I just want to be alone with you again.”
He brought his bike fully into the light, stopping for all of a second beside the safe house’s open front door, and Lena thought he might be ready to bring her back to the bed when he patted her head with a smile.
“We’ll get to that,” he said. “Unending when it’s all said and done.”
Jax kissed her cheek and started to mount, ready to head off for parts unknown when Lena charged to his side and gripped his neck. “Lena, I---”
“I’m not telling you not to go,” she said. “I get why you think you have to.”
“It’s a chance, Lena,” he confessed. “But it could be everything.”
And she got that, too; she was almost on the verge of letting him go on his way when she held him closer and kissed his cheeks. “But just promise me that you’ll come back,” she pleaded. “No matter what.”
“I already---”
“Then say it again,” she asked. “I just like hearing it.”
Jax sighed and held her fast as he his fingers stoked her cheek and he kissed her eyes. “I’ll come back to you,” he said. “One way or the other, I’m going to be at your side.”
Lena couldn’t help but fix her hopes on that suggestion, but she knew it would never work if he stayed hidden. At some point, he had to face them, and Lena brushed her hands down his back and rested his brow to hers. “Of course you will,” she whispered. “And I’ll use the gun if I have to.”
“You made a quick study,” he said proudly. “Sort of puts my mind at ease.”
“I can help with that, too.”
She found his lips and kissed him hard. Jax’s arms swirled around her back, and he pulled her closer as one hand grazed the gun at her side, his free fingers brushing the fallen hair from her face.
“You believe me?” he asked.
“Jax,” she murmured. “You always were kind of a badass.”
“For you, Lena,” he said. “Only for you.”
He seemed to hesitate but she pushed him to his bike and sighed softly. “Go then,” she said.
“I’ll sort it out,” he promised. “And tell me you’ll be all right?”
Just the thought of being away from him how brought tears to her eyes, but she bit her weeping back and tapped her finger to the trigger. “I promise, Jax,” she said. “And I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, Lena.” He kissed her and started to leave when Lena kept his fingers in hers as she swirled close to his side. “Lena, I have to---”
“And you take care of yourself,” she said. “Tell me this won’t be the last time.”
Jax laughed as he cocked his head and stroked her cheeks. “Not by a long shot,” he said. “Wait here for me.”
She nodded as she watched him mount his bike, and the chopper buzzed under his thighs as he turned his eyes over his shoulder.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “And…” Jax’s gaze settled on the gun still in her hand. “Only if you have to, Lena,” he said. “Only if you’re really scared.” She wordlessly nodded, and Jax started to pull away when he flashed her a sly grin. “This is going to work,” he assured her. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”
Her mind clung to that idea and Lena pressed the gun to her legs with a sigh. “You better be, Jax.”
He rode away with a smile and a sharp wave to the air. Lena sighed as she watched him depart, but she still had the gun and the promise of his return. “I’ll be here, Jax,” she muttered under her breath. “But please be quick about it.”
Chapter Nineteen
Whooshing away from the safe house, Jax imagined he was already on his way back, bearing good news and ready to lift Lena onto his bike and take her somewhere safer still, a place where they might be able to look ahead to more than the next moment. The memory of her hands, the feel of her breath against his neck, the way her eyelids fluttered when he claimed her mouth… All of these things flooded his mind and became the sweat bursting through his pores, and when the safe house was still in view but little more than a dot on the horizon, Jax suddenly hit his brakes and turned his head over his shoulder. He thought he heard gunshots, and they nearly sent him back the same way that he had come. But maybe she was just practicing. Nothing dark about knowing how to hold a gun. Someone had told him that so long ago.
What if it’s the wrong call? Last thing I want is to lead her into danger. But what if I can’t get back? What if that was the last time I ever get to be with her?
The thought cut into his soul like a dull knife, and a burning ache raced up his throat, coming out in the whisper of her name into the wind.
“Lena…”
Better to go back? Take her with him and keep her close? Why had he even left her in the first place after so much time apart? Jax was ready to make the move. He could almost hear his voice ordering her to really get dressed and not ask any more questions. To just trust him. But as the motor buzzed between his legs again, he shook his head hard. It was no good. He had no idea what he was riding into, and he had to keep his eye on the prize. If she were near, if there were the chance that something awful could happen to her…
Let her stay where she is. I’ll make it back. And then we’ll have all the time in the world.
Heading again in the direction of the sun as it continued to lift higher and higher into the sky, somehow Jax managed to push Lena from his thoughts.
And just as quickly, the image of another woman flooded his mind: his mother.
Time was when he thought she was as strong as his father. Maybe even more so. His earliest memory was the sight of her sitting on their stoop, cleaning a handgun as he watched from the confines of a playpen. Just the idea of a woman holding a firearm so close to her toddler would no doubt set all kinds of red flags flying in the little minds that didn’t understand the golden rule: Gun is no danger to anyone if a body knows how to handle it. No one but the fool who tries to take what isn’t is.
Those were his father’s words and something that the lying, raping scum that was Eric Stiles should heed if he dared to cross his path again. Because Lena would never be his. Not a chance.
Turning the corner, he remembered Aggie Monroe setting the pistol aside. Her crooked teeth curled into a bright smile, and she pushed her flaming red hair behind her ears as she lifted her little boy into her arms.
When my Jackson is older, Mommy’ll teach you how to shoot. No one but no one is ever going to mess with my little man.
He was only ten when she made good on her promise. Taking her son by the hand, Aggie walked him away from the house and set a couple empty beer bottles on a series of stray stumps. And then, in the same way that he had just shown Lena, Aggie advised him to take aim and fire. The little boy’s finger trembled around the trigger, but Aggie rested her palms on his shoulder and ducked down close to his ear. You have nothing to be afraid of. Any boy of mine is a born marksman. I believe in you, Jax.
His lip still quivered, and he briefly released the gun t
o wipe the sweat from his brow. Looking up into his mother’s eyes, the child expected to see her impatient and frustrated by his failure to fire. But Aggie only smiled softly and caressed his flushed cheek. You can do it, Baby. Trust in your Mama’s words.
And doing just that, Jax remembered planting his feet more firmly into the ground. The beer bottle seemed a million miles away until he narrowed his eyes and fixed his stare on his target. He pushed his finger into the trigger, and started where he stood when the bullet left the chamber. He kept the gun steady as he slammed his eyes shut and turned his head away. But at the sound of the glass shattering and his mother’s thunderous round of applause, the little boy looked up in a state of hopeful shock. Aggie sank to her knees and gently pried the gun from her son’s hands. There it is! I told you you could do it!
She rewarded his efforts with a quick kiss to his cheek, and when Jax excitedly told her he wanted to give it another go, Aggie’s face beamed with pride and she pointed to the remaining bottles. Have at it, little man. Think of how proud your father will be when he comes home.
His mother was as good as her word; Nathan Monroe slapped his son on the back soon after he cracked open a beer under the force of his teeth and spit the bottle top into the sink. That’s my boy, Jax! Can’t wait to hand you the reins one of these days.
Just see to it that that doesn’t happen for a good long while.
He watched his mother wind her arms around the big man’s meaty neck and pull him close for a quick kiss. Neither ever made any bones about showing their feelings under his nose. And he kind of liked that. Nice to be loved and know that as long as they were together, not one bad thing was ever going to happen to him.
“Shit!”
Slammed back to reality by a sharp turn he nearly missed, Jax grinded his bike to a halt and drifted into the skid to keep from wiping out. His breath heaved in his chest as he dismounted slowly and checked the chopper. The smell of burning rubber wafting into his nose brought his eyes to the tires, and he was grateful to find no punctures in the wheels. Ready to climb back on and keep going, he swiftly realized his hands were shaking, and even though he knew he had little to no time to waste, he told himself a few seconds now might make the difference down the road, and he reached into his jacket for his pack of smokes. Striking a match against the heel of his boot, he inhaled deeply and rested his head to the bark of a tree.
Just see to it that that doesn’t happen for a good long while.
Even then, time was not on their side. Supposed to be a simple collection. Not Tom Sullivan that time, but still a derelict who paid or at least spun a story to buy more time. No need to take backup; Nathan Monroe promised his wife he’d be home in time for supper, so she kept the steaks waiting. And waiting.
Looking back, Jax took another drag and hated himself for whining and saying they should just start without him. Aggie was never one to raise her hand to her child, but she did form a fist that came crashing down on the tabletop. Show some respect, boy. Your father does all of this for you. And he deserves to sit down to a proper family dinner.
But it never came. Only the roar of the crew’s choppers, and he remembered his mother flinging the front door open wide as Artie took the lead with slumped shoulders and struggled to speak.
Aggie, I I don’t know how to say this.
But he didn’t have to. His mother quickly connected the dots when she saw the somber faces surrounding her stoop. Somehow she kept her head high as her son tentatively took her hand and listened to the sound of her mother’s voice.
I want him laid out in his leathers. Whatever else you boys had on tap for the next few days is cancelled. You will pay tribute, or I’ll see that each and every one of your posers is patched out.
No one argued, and Aggie’s jaw stayed like steel until her husband was lowered into the ground. Only when they returned to the house alone did she finally collapse into a heap of sobs, and Jax remembered awkwardly placing his arms around her back when she shrugged him off and ran her hands across her face. I’m all right. You didn’t see this. You forget right now, little man.
After that, he forgot a lot of things: her smile, her laugh. Aggie moved through her day-to-day like a corpse above ground, and as the club languished in misdirection, Jax took hold of his father’s gun, planning then to take the reins and set matters straight.
But before he could make the move, Aggie Monroe finally grinned again.
This is Eric Stiles. He gives me his word he’ll keep the club safe for you. And when you’re ready to inherit, Jax, everything will be at your fingertips.
Flicking his finished smoke aside, Jax mounted his bike and rode hard. From the start, he hadn’t trusted Eric Stiles. Man had to be something of a vulture to swoop in and curry Aggie’s favor. There were others far more worthy of holding down the fort until he came of age. But something that he didn’t see, that he only heard from behind closed doors led his lonely mother to make her choice. He tried to tell himself that at least she was happy, that that was something.
Until she was gone, and he had no idea why.
Crazy thing, Jax. Guess it’s something that she like left you a note.
Jax remembered reading it with watering eyes.
Jackson, this is the best way. Eric can teach you everything else you need to know. I’m done here. Don’t want to do this anymore.
The words were like a punch in the gut, and as Jax raced down a steep incline, he blinked back fresh tears and cringed at the memory of Eric turning him towards his face.
Tough break, Kid. But no sense going all pussy over it. I got your back. I’m your old man now.
What other choice did he have? His father was dead, his mother off for parts unknown because… because why? Did she suddenly get bored? Was Eric too far from everything that she had ever hoped for? But why leave her son?
When he thought of how Eric had dealt with Lena, he knew something wasn’t adding up.
The day grew darker as a turnoff captured his attention. Waverly. During all the years that his mother was gone, rumors still swirled that she was ensconced in the arms of another crew, and Waverly was the blip on the radar that suggested where she might be keeping herself scarce. The stable of the Silver Horses, and Jax held back when he heard the sound of another rider peeling through the nearby trees. Taking cover under the branches, Jax saw a shimmering stallion emblazoned on the back of a large man’s leather. Holding his breath until he was sure the man was far enough away to not catch his scent, Jax followed at a careful distance and felt for his gun. Not that he wanted to shed any blood; he was trying, hoping to make friends with these steeds. But if anyone dared to challenge him, he would take the shot so he could make his way back to Lena.
Gun is no danger to anyone if a body knows how to handle it. No one but the fool who tries to take what isn’t is.
The unfamiliar rider came to a stop before a rundown farmhouse, the man’s bike one of many. The man who Jax pursued was met by what had to be a friend, and when Jax saw another silver horse, he knew that he had the right place. Not knowing if his mother were here or not, he still had no choice but to try his luck with these rivals. Sure his father had to be rolling around in his grave, but Jax would still see if he could summon some aid. Like they wouldn’t take on the chance to put Eric and the Black Legion in their place, and Jax advanced with surer steps when something hard and flat crashed into the back of his head. Groaning in pain, Jax lost his gun and tried to face the source of his attack when a fist slammed into his jaw. His arms flailed wildly as he stumbled to the grass, and as he felt his body dragged to some unknown location, his focus fell away, and everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty
Once Jax was gone, Lena tried her hand at the gun again. Even without his strong hands and the feel of his warm breath trailing down her neck, Lena was able to take the shot and send more cans flying. Proud of her efforts, she wished he was there, that he would come back and see what a sure shot she was. Lena thought she hea
rd his bike come to a halt, and she ran towards the front of the house, hoping to see him already on his way back. She wanted to go with him, to be with him always. Biting down on her lip as she waited, her heart sank when the sound of the bike disappeared. Not him. Probably just some weekend warrior trying to get his rocks off, and she retreated back into the house and set the gun aside.
The feel of the empty space weighed down on her heart, and she slowly walked back to the bed. Falling into the rumpled sheets, she brought the linens close to her nose and inhaled more of his lingering scent. Lena curled to her back and imagined that he was still in her arms when the sound of a snapping twig just beyond the window caused her to shoot up straighter and push the sheets aside.