by Laura Day
Chapter Seven
Maple
“It’s fucking hideous.”
The words echoed in Maple’s ears. It was like the thrum of music fell away, the sounds of chatter died down, the little nuances in between disappeared, and only those three words were left. She steeled herself against the pain, but she wasn’t sure how well she covered it up. She didn’t dare look at Jax for fear he would pity her and her disfigured face.
“It’s fucking hideous.”
She knew it. She saw the truth of those words every single day when she passed over any shiny surface. There was not a moment where she could ever forget the scar she carried around with her. She was a marked woman, doomed to spend her life under the judgement, scrutiny, and discrimination of a world that measured everything by face value.
“It’s fucking hideous.”
She had been heckled before, but somehow this was worse. This time it was in front of Jax, and she didn’t want him hearing those words just in case he started believing them. So far, he had looked at her and spoken to her as though he saw nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t want that changing. She didn’t want him to look at her with disgust or pity or sympathy.
They were sitting at the small, circular table, and Maple was trying not to make eye contact, but she noticed how quiet Jax was being, and she risked a glance in his direction. He was not even looking at her. He was staring ahead at nothing, but his eyes were dangerous and focused, his posture was rigid, and his jaw was clenched. It was obvious he was still listening to the hecklers.
“Jax,” Maple said softly.
He was so focused on the men behind them that he didn’t even acknowledge her. Maple wasn’t sure that he hadn’t even heard her speak.
“Jax,” she tried again, reaching out to touch his arm, but the conversation behind them was hard to ignore.
“Nah, she looks more like a druggie to me.”
“Her dealer probably knifed her.”
Jax flew out of his chair, moving with deadly precision towards the guys standing by the bar. “Please Jax, don’t,” Maple called out, but he didn’t even glance back at her.
She was forced to watch as he confronted them. He was one against five, but he didn’t so much as blink. He stood straight, tall and intimidating, he stood like a man who knew he was powerful and knew he could win. Maple hated violence, she hated brawling, and she could sense the threads of violence forming in the air. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Jax.
She wasn’t concentrating on their exchange. She was just holding her breath and hoping that there would be no fight. She saw the bartender with the amazing green hair and the neck tattoos move a little closer. He said something Maple couldn’t quite make out, and within a few minutes, Jax was walking back towards her with satisfaction in his gait while the men by the bar averted their gaze pointedly. Jax settled back into his seat.
“Sorry about that,” he said, still looking tense. “Are you ok?”
Maple wished he hadn’t asked her that question. She would have preferred if he had simply skated over the whole thing without mentioning it at all. “Fine,” she said—though her voice didn’t sound as convincing as she would have liked. She laughed a little to make it seem as though the taunting hadn’t affected her. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“You shouldn’t ever have to hear shit like that.”
Maple shrugged. “Unfortunately, life sucks sometimes and people are cruel. I just have to learn to grin and bear it.”
“How about you hold them down and I’ll punch?” Jax suggested.
Maple gave him a small smile. “Do you mind if we change the subject?”
Immediately he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a short moment. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course we can change the subject.”
“Thank you,” Maple said gratefully. “How was training today?”
“Same as usual,” Jax replied.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Maple said, shaking her head. “Some of the things you do are so…extreme.”
“You’ve been watching me?” Jax said, raising his eyebrows.
Maple tried to control the blush on her cheeks. “Just a little,” she admitted. “Between breaks…only because there’s no TV.”
“A likely story,” Jax teased.
Maple dropped her gaze. “Can I ask what the point of strangling yourself is? I saw you do that the week I started working at the gym and I nearly ran over with a pair of scissors.”
Jax laughed. “Did you really?”
“I was this close,” Maple said, measuring the distance with her fingers. “Then Evan showed up, and I realized you weren’t actually suicidal, it was all just a part of training.”
“The purpose is to build my neck strength so that I can resist punches to the face during a fight,” Jax explained, looking amused by her reaction.
“Oh,” Maple said. “Does it work?”
“So far it has,” Jax nodded.
“And you don’t think that’s slightly…extreme?” Maple questioned.
“If I want to be the best, I need to push myself that much harder,” Jax said. “I need to fight that much harder. The more effort I put into my training, the easier it becomes to accomplish that goal.”
“Do you really love it?” Maple asked. “Fighting?”
“I really do.”
“Why?” Maple asked, trying to understand that need to want to punch another human being in the face.
Jax looked thoughtful for a moment, taking the time to really consider his answer. “Let’s just say I have a lot of pent up anger,” he said lightly, as though he were only joking, but Maple was willing to bet that it was more true than Jax wanted to admit.
“You don’t like the fight very much do you?” Jax asked, his teasing manner fading into seriousness.
“Fights are different,” Maple conceded. “There are rules, sportsmanship is involved, and it is a test of skill and resilience and stamina. That’s different to unnecessary violence. I hate random fights that are cooked up by a bunch of bored boys who are looking for a way to amuse themselves on a Saturday night.”
“Fair enough,” Jax said, bowing his head. “I can understand that.”
“I am still curious though,” Maple said.
“Curious as to why I fight?”
“As to why you love it so much?” she clarified.
Jax paused for a moment. “I guess…because at the end of the day…I’m good at it. I’ve never really been very good at anything in my life, so when I set my mind on MMA fighting and I started training, it was gratifying to know that I did have skills. To be honest, my stint in prison actually helped prepare me for my training.”
“Was it very difficult…in jail?” Maple asked cautiously, not wanting to pry.
Jax’s tone went somber for a moment. “It was at first…but I learned the ropes fast. I learned whom to stay away from and whom to befriend. Mostly, I learned to fight.”
“Didn’t that just make things worse?” Maple asked.
“You needed to be able to defend yourself in there,” Jax explained. “Never start the fights, but you have to be able to finish them. If you don’t, you just end up marking yourself for weakness, and then life becomes completely unbearable.”
Maple nodded, imagining how difficult prison must have been for him. “I bet you did alright.”
Jax smiled. “I managed fine. I certainly learned to take a punch.”
“Do you have any friends from prison?” Maple asked.
Jax shook his head. “Evan is the closest thing I have to a friend now.”
“You two seem very close,” Maple observed.
She had spent enough time observing them in the gym while they were training. Evan was always clear and patient and above all, he was honest. Maple had watched him work with a few of the younger kids who walked in convinced they were going to be huge in the underground scene. Evan told them straight away what training involved, and then he
would put them through a brutal first session to see if they could hack it. Many of them disappeared after the first day.
“How long have you known Evan?” Maple asked.
“Four years,” Jax replied. “Give or take.”
As the night wore on, the bar grew more crowded and the steady chatter of conversation pervaded through the room. Jax looked around after a moment. “I’m sorry, I haven’t even gotten us drinks,” he said, looking as though he were ashamed of himself.
Maple waved away his apology. “I didn’t even notice, don’t worry about it.”
“What can I get you?” he asked. “How about a gin and tonic? Or a screwdriver?”
Maple gave him a small smile. “How about a virgin screwdriver?”
Jax nodded and veered through the crowd towards the bar, leaving Maple sitting there to watch as people passed by. It was almost eleven o’clock, and people were already drunk. She saw a young couple in the corner of the bar. He was sitting on a high bar stool, and she was nestled between his legs. They were kissing in a way that suggested they had forgotten where they were. Maple averted her gaze and a moment later, Jax showed up with drinks.
“You don’t drink alcohol?” he asked.
“I have to avoid all addictive substances,” Maple replied. “Because I have addictive cravings, it’s important that I not become overly dependent on any substitutes for OxyContin.”
“This may be… a really weird slash inappropriate slash offensive question…but…?”
Maple laughed. “Just ask”
“Do you miss it?” Jax asked finally.
“OxyContin?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Yeah, I do,” she said. “I still have the cravings, and to be honest, I don’t think that will ever go away.”
“Is there ever a point when…you crave it more than usual?”
Maple nodded. “When I’m feeling particularly low,” she answered. “Or if I’m ever really lonely. All I want to do in those moments is keep myself from feeling. I just want to numb myself so that I don’t have to deal with all the baggage.”
“How long have you been clean?”
“Seven months,” Maple said.
“That’s a big deal.”
“Congratulate me when I hit a year,” Maple said.
“I will,” Jax replied, and Maple felt a swoon thrum over her body.
Just then a small group of people walked past them. They walked slowly, looking back over their shoulders as though they were trying to find someone. The bar was so crowded that people were inadvertently pushed together. They spoke in hushed voices, but they were so close that Jax and Maple could hear their conversation.
“He’s over there…in that corner with his crew…”
“I haven’t heard of him,”
“He’s new to the MMA. I saw him fight last week, it was sick.”
“Is he that good?”
“The hottest new up-and-comer in illegal MMA fights this side of town.”
Jax tilted his head to the side, obviously listening to the conversation. Maple fell silent, as well. She didn’t know the underground MMA scene as well as Jax probably did, but she knew enough about it to know that Jax was the reigning king of the underground scene.
“Is he really that good?”
“Oh, he’s one to watch. Like I said, I saw him fight. He takes no prisoners.”
“Still…he’s new…he might fade away after a few matches.”
“I don’t know…there’s something about this guy. He’s going to rise fast. He’s already booked for several fights next month.”
“Who’s his coach?”
“Red Russel.”
“Red? Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Well, then maybe this new guy will actually make something of himself.”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Where is he, man?”
“Over on that side…let’s loop around.”
They were young kids with excitement in their voices. They turned back around and circled the bar, leaving Jax and Maple to their drinks. Maple watched Jax’s expression carefully. He didn’t seem to be phased.
“Are you worried?” Maple asked cautiously.
“About the up-and-comer?” Jax asked without concern. “Not even a little. Every so often there will be talk about some random newcomer who people think have what it takes to reach the top. But that percentage is smaller than you would think. Still…Red is known for training strong fighters. This one might have half a chance.”
Maple realized she was craning her head instinctively, trying to catch a glimpse of this new MMA fighter. “Do you think there’s a chance you’ll fight against him one day?”
Jax shrugged. “I honestly don’t care who I fight against, as long as they give me a good fight.”
Maple could see the kids who had been discussing the new fighter beside them only moments before. She could see them point, as the crowd parted slightly to reveal the newest MMA fighter. Maple cast a critical eye over him. He was tall and well-muscled, a few inches shorter than Jax, but he was slighter thicker and broader. He had thin, blond hair and dark eyes. His smile was dipped in insincerity, and he had a way of looking at women as though he were staring at a piece of meat.
Even his walk was filled with overinflated confidence and a machismo that was almost nauseating. He looked like a man who was trying very hard to look intimidating and impressive. It seemed he was very aware of all the eyes that were following him around the room.
Maple shrugged. “He doesn’t impress me,” she said.
Jax turned in the direction of her gaze, and Maple saw his body convulse as though he had just received an electric shock.
“Jax?” Maple said in concern.
He turned back to her with an expression that scared her. He was more than just furious. He was practically murderous. His eyes bulged and tension rolled off his shoulders, as his large chest moved up and down in steady motion.
“Jax, you’re scaring me,” Maple said, as softly as she could manage. “What’s happening? Do you know him?”
“Conor,” was all Jax said with fury in his eyes.
Chapter Eight
Jax
“Conor?” Maple phrased the name like a question.
Jax could see the worry and concern on her face, but he couldn’t turn off the anger that he felt burgeoning inside him. He wanted to calm down for Maple’s sake, but he had never had any practice suppressing that side of him.
He felt Maple’s hand slide across the table and stroke his arm. He couldn’t even register the contact because his mind was just a chaotic scramble of different shades of rage. He tilted his head down so that he was really only seeing the sight of Maple’s hand linked with his. He stared down at the table for a long time until he felt a little more in control of his faculties. Finally, he took a deep breath and Maple recognized that as a signal to talk.
“Are you alright?” she asked instantly.
Jax was about to say he was, but then he paused. Somehow lying to Maple didn’t even feel necessary. “No,” he said at last. “Actually, I’m not.”
“Do you know him?” Maple asked. “The new MMA fighter?”
“Yes, I know him,” Jax spat out. “Unfortunately, I know him too well.”
He felt Maple grip him a little harder. “Who is he Jax?”
“He’s the reason I went to jail,” Jax said.
Maple was silent for so long that Jax had to raise his head to meet her eyes. She was looking at him as though she were trying to decipher him. Jax felt a tug at his heart. She looked so young and innocent sometimes. Despite everything she had been through, he still felt as though something pure had been preserved. He had this blind, unexplainable need to protect her from everything and everyone.
Some corner of his mind registered that his need to protect her had been pushed to the forefront the moment he had seen Conor. As far as Jax was concerned, Conor was dangerous, and he didn
’t want Maple—or any woman for that matter—around the fucking scumbag. He had the desire to walk right up to him and finish him off right then and there. The only thing that held him back was the doe-eyed woman sitting opposite him, holding his hand as though she could save him.
“Conor…he was my sister’s boyfriend,” Jax started the story slowly, trying to keep his head down as much as possible. He saw Maple’s eyes flit up to take another look at Conor. “I always knew he was a useless piece of shit, but I could never seem to convince her of that. She insisted that I was wrong about him. She insisted that I just needed to get to know him.