by L A Cotton
Outside of the door, I inhaled a deep breath before turning the handle. I could do this. I could walk right in there and demand answers. He owed me that much, and God knows I deserved it. There was no sign of him in the kitchen, but Jackson was home. There were dishes in the sink, and his sneakers had been laid neatly at the side of the door.
I heard the grunts and groans from the farthest room away. The gym. It was only a small room, probably once used for an office or den, but Jackson and the guys had moved weights and a bench press in there, and hung a bag from the ceiling. Jackson hadn’t used it all that much since he usually went to train with Dennis at Fallen House and their much more impressive workout space.
Not giving myself enough time to chicken out, I dropped my bag, kicked off my Converse, and made my way to the room at the back of the house. As I got closer, the sounds grew louder. The door was ajar, and my eyes found him immediately. His skin glistened under a thin sheen of sweat as he pounded his fists into the bag.
Left, tap. Right, tap. Left, tap, tap. Right, tap.
Each time his knuckles connected with the material, I winced. It sounded so brutal, and the guttural noise coming from Jackson suggested it hurt. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. His sculpted muscles flexed with each movement. So caught up in watching him, I leaned into the door and it creaked open.
Jackson’s head whipped up, and his eyes connected with mine.
“I, hmm, I just got in.” I stumbled forgetting everything I had intended to say only two minutes earlier.
“How were classes?”
How were classes? That’s what you really want to know?
The words were on the tip of my tongue.
Push him. Make him talk.
“Classes were fine. I saw Mari; she asked if we’d mind her using the house to throw Paul a birthday party. I said okay.”
“Sounds good.” Jackson unwrapped his hands and pulled a towel off the bench, rubbing it vigorously over his damp hair.
“Are you going to tell me how your weekend was? Or are we pretending it never happened?” I stepped fully into the room, my heart beginning to pound gently.
“Ana,” his voice warned, as if I was a child trying to steal another cookie from the cookie jar.
“Jackson,” I shot back.
He pursed his lips but gave me nothing. Moving toward me, I backed up against the wall, but he wasn’t coming for me. Instead, he walked straight past me and out of the room.
“Jackson,” I said a little louder, following him out of the room. “I deserve to know where you were.”
That had his attention. I rarely challenged his actions or whereabouts.
Jackson turned slowly, anguish etched into his beautiful face. “Please. Can we not, not today. It was a long weekend, and I’m wiped. I just want to chill out with my girlfriend.”
A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest and spilled out before I could stop it. “Wiped from all the lap dances?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“What the fuck? You think I was at a strip club? I was on business, Ana. Business you’re better off not knowing about. I don’t like keeping things from you, but sometimes it’s for the best.”
He lied. My heart sank.
“Yeah.” I lowered my voice. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend knowing I was getting up close and personal with some stripper skank either.”
Jackson stepped forward to reach out to me, but I stepped back, wanting to keep the distance. If he touched me, I’d fall apart. And right now, I needed to stand my ground.
“I don’t know where this is coming from, Ana, but I wasn’t at any fucking strip club. Okay?”
Anger exploded through me and propelled me forward. I stormed past Jackson and marched into the kitchen to retrieve my cell phone.
“Ana, what the hell?” Jackson was hot on my heels, but I didn’t turn to look back at him until I had the proof to shove right in his face.
My hand found the phone, and I yanked it out. My fingers flew across the screen until the grainy image filled the screen.
“So this isn’t you then?” I shoved the cell phone in front of Jackson’s face and his eyes honed in on the image. At first, there was nothing but confusion, but slowly it was replaced with alarm. His eyes darkened. He was pissed. At being caught, or the fact someone had sent me the text, I didn’t know which. But he didn’t deny it. No well-rehearsed excuses flowed out of his mouth.
Nothing.
Feeling myself start to crumble, I ripped the phone away and rushed out, “When you’re ready to tell me what the hell is going on, I’ll be upstairs. In our bed.”
Chapter 12
~ JACKSON ~
Ana pushed past me and ran up the stairs.
Fucking Perkins and that dingy strip club.
And who the fuck had sent her the text? It was the exact moment I’d pushed Perkins to the edge of the booth so he could get his money’s worth from the waitress. Someone had to be there watching me to take the photograph themselves or they had somehow swiped the CCTV footage. Either way, someone was seriously overstepping their boundaries.
Knowing I had to deal with the current shitstorm, I shelved the text and padded my way upstairs to Ana. There wasn’t time to consider making excuses. She was right; she deserved more.
She deserved to know the truth.
~
I found Ana in our bed, my old jersey cloaking her delicate frame as she pretended to read a textbook from one of her classes.
“I’m sorry.” The words rolled off my tongue. No surprise, given how much I found myself saying that lately.
Ana didn’t lift her head from the book in her hands as she said, “Not good enough.”
Feeling my veins prick with frustration, I moved to the foot of the bed and sat down, raking a hand over my head. I needed to explain. Give her something. Anything was better than this deafening silence enveloping us.
“I was in Seattle…”
Ana shifted slightly behind me, but I didn’t turn to face her. If I was going to do this, then I didn’t need to the look in her eye to see the disappointment or judgment.
“With Perkins. Maconey’s guy. He took me to some kind of meeting. It was big, Ana. Guys from all over Oregon and Washington, even as far as Idaho. The leader, a guy named Frankie, they kept referring to him as boss. So I asked Perkins about that. He said Marcus is the mob. Irish mob. I knew he had connections, hell, I know what he’s involved with, but I thought it was small-time organized crime. I didn’t know we had mob connections. Fuck, I’m in over my head.”
Hands slid over my shoulders and wrapped around my neck, and she leaned into my back. “Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper. “Thank you for opening up to me.”
The relief was instant. I hadn’t realized it before, but I needed this more that I knew. Dennis was right. I needed to learn to share the burden. Ana had proved herself to me time and time again, standing by me even when she discovered who I really was.
“There’s more.”
“I’m right here.”
“Perkins took me to a strip joint.” Ana’s body stiffened against me, but she didn’t let go of her hold on me. I continued, “I swear it wasn’t my idea. I hated the place, but he’s important in all of this. He knew Dad, Ana. Some of the guys at the meeting did, too. I’m pretty sure Dad knew him as well. When I finally saw his face, I recognized him. There are pictures in Marcus’ house of him, Dad, and Frankie.”
“Did you look?”
“What?” I managed to maneuver myself around to come face to face with Ana.
“At the strip club, did you look?”
A weak smile broke over my face. “Ana, I’m a guy. There were naked chicks. Of course, I looked, but I didn’t touch. And you want the truth?”
She nodded, uncertainty shining in her eyes.
“Those girls? They did absolutely nothing for me. I love you, Ana. My heart belongs to you. Every last shred. The whole time, I was thinking of a way to get Perkins to talk. It seems bour
bon and a lap dance did the trick.”
Ana shifted onto my lap and leaned back, her arms still looped around my neck. “He told you something?”
“Nothing important, not yet. But he confirmed a few things. He was around back when Dad was alive. He talked about the parties Marcus used to throw. He must know something, Ana. Someone has to know…”
Ana pressed her forehead to mine and I closed my eyes, letting her touch calm me.
“The mob? This is getting scary, Jackson. As you said, small-time organized crime is one thing, but this? This is much bigger than us.” Ana's voice cracked, and I drew her to me.
She was right. The playing field had changed. But it didn't stop my overwhelming need to know the truth about Dad, and I knew that if I didn't get to the bottom of it, I'd never be able to move on.
“You're not going to walk away, are you?”
Drawing back to look Ana in the eye, I shook my head. “I can't. You know I can't. Marcus wouldn't accept that, not now.”
But it was more than that. I couldn't. Walking away wasn't an option, which meant I was about to start on a path there might be no coming back from.
~
Finally being honest with Ana cleared the air a little, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't wake feeling crushed under the weight of lies and secrets.
Ana was still asleep, one arm outstretched above her with her face turned slightly away from me. The scar tracking her wrist glimmered against her milky white skin.
My fighter.
Ana was strong. Stronger than she gave herself credit for. Even when she had been holding on by a thread, she had been there for me. Always putting others first. Putting me first. I had always been so concerned with protecting her that sometimes I only ended up hurting her more. But maybe it was time to let her stand beside me—to help me.
“Mmm…” Ana yawned, stretching her toes to a point. “Morning.”
I leaned into her and pressed my lips to her forehead. Her eyes remained shut, but I felt her smile against my face. “I love you.”
“You’re here.”
I heard the relief in Ana’s voice and guilt coiled around my heart as I pulled back and looked into her glossy eyes.
“I’m here. I’m going to be here every morning from now on. Unless I have early practice. No more running from things. Me and you, Ana. I need you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“We should probably talk about the text, though.”
Ana sighed, shrugging out from under my grip. Leaving our bed, she strolled to the adjoining bathroom, calling out behind her, “You should probably talk to that psycho bitch, Briony.”
Briony? The girl might have been ten shades of crazy but following me and pulling something like this? That was far-fetched even for Briony Donohue.
Marcus had demanded that she play nice this year, especially since she refused to let the whole Braiden thing drop. But he was a fool if he thought for one second that his daughter's fake smile was a sign of her peace offering.
Ana went out of her way to avoid Briony. She didn't say anything to me, but I noticed that she would scope out a building as we entered, glancing around for any signs of Briony. She was on edge, waiting for whatever was going to be hurtled at us next. But she was still here; loving me despite everything.
Still unconvinced of Ana's conclusions about who sent the text, I followed her into the bathroom. Ana was washing her hands in the sink. Her blue eyes collided with mine in the mirror, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head on her shoulder.
“I'll talk to her. If you get any more texts, then I want to know right away.”
Ana rolled her eyes, and I squeezed her gently. “It's not a request, Ana. I can't protect you if you shut me out. If I'm going to be honest with you, then it works both ways. No more secrets. Deal?”
Ana nodded and pressed herself back into me. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Deal.”
“Now get dressed. I want to take you somewhere.”
~
We pulled up outside of Blacks an hour later. The sea crashed against the rocks below and the sign hanging to the side of door rattled against the worn wood.
“The weather's really turning,” Ana commented, zipping her jacket higher.
“Come here.” I opened my arms wide and met her at the rear of the car. Ana nestled against me and I breathed her in. “Ready to get your ear chewed by V? She isn't happy we haven't stopped by since school started back.”
Ana laughed against my chest and a peace settled in me. This was how it was supposed to be with us. In among the storm, we were supposed to find each other. Ground one another.
“Let's go.” I took Ana's hand in mine and tugged her toward the door.
V spotted us the second we walked through the door.
“Jackson, Ana, honey, get over here and show this old lady some love,” she shrieked causing the handful of diners to look in our direction.
Ana shrugged out of my hold as she bounded toward V. They came together in a hug, and my heart warmed watching the two most important women in my life.
“Jax, you have ten seconds to get over here.”
Shaking my head with laughter, I joined them, wrapping an arm around V who refused to let go of Ana.
“It's been too long again, boy, but it's so good to see you.”
“How is he?” I asked, unwrapping V and giving Ana room to step back.
V's eyes filled with sadness and my chest cracked. It wasn't good news.
“Sit. I'll bring over some drinks and we can chat.”
We picked a table next to the window. Watching the water made me feel close to Dad; conjuring up memories of my past.
“He used to bring me here all the time. Dad loved Otis.”
Ana reached across the table and laid her hands over mine. I opened my fist to let her entwine our fingers, but I didn’t take my eyes off the ocean.
“Tell me about him.”
“Dad? I look like him, you know. Except he had something about him, a sparkle. Does that sound dumb?”
Ana didn’t answer, just squeezed my hand.
“I remember this one time, he promised to take me fishing, but he had to go away on a job last-minute. I stayed with Otis and V for the weekend. I was so bummed, but when he got back, he took me out of school for two days and we went camping. You know the beach I took you to last Christmas down in Tillamook?” My eyes met Ana’s and her cheeks flushed at the memory. “Whenever I was with him, I felt like I could do anything. He was that kind of guy, always pushing me to try it. ‘Take a leap of faith, son,’ he’d say.”
My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. Remembering him had always been difficult, but now it was that much harder. For years, I’d blamed fate for Dad’s death. A freak accident, circumstances out of anyone’s control. His time. Everything was different now. Every time I let myself remember, my mind conjured Marcus’ face. The man I’d grown up calling uncle. The man I’d trusted and respected… and feared. My whole life was built on a lie.
Ana’s fingers brushed over my knuckles, but it did little to calm the anger bubbling up inside.
“Jackson.”
I turned my head away from Ana to stare out the window again. The pounding of my heart in my chest was almost too much to bear.
“Jackson, look at me,” her voice called to me, but it sounded so far away. “Jax, come back to me.”
Clamping my eyes shut, I focused on my breathing. In, out. In, out. Slowly, my heart rate subsided and I blinked my eyes open to find Ana watching me, sadness masking her features.
“Hi,” she whispered, still stroking my knuckles.
“Hi,” I replied in a pained voice.
“Here you go. Hot chocolate for you, honey, and a coffee for my boy.” V placed a tray down on the table, cutting the tension like a knife.
Forcing myself to smile, I withdrew my hand from Ana’s and helped V with the mugs, thankful for the distraction.
“So
anything you need to tell me?” V eyed me suspiciously and despite my mood, I couldn’t help but smirk at her. She had some kind of unnatural intuition, but she had her hands full enough with Otis.
“I think we should be asking you that question, V.”
She pulled out another chair and sunk into it, her whole demeanor changing. “It’s bad, Jax. The old stubborn ass refuses treatment. Doc says if he doesn’t start the chemo soon it could be too late.”
I reached out a hand to the woman who had helped raise me and laid it on her arm. “What can we do?”
“Talk some sense into the old fool. I’m not ready to be alone, and Earth sure as hell isn’t ready to lose Otis Maguire Black to cancer.” V managed a slight smile, but I heard the pain lacing her heavy accent.
“You should have called sooner, V,” Ana added, her eyes filling with tears.
“Honey, I know you two have your own obstacles. I thought I could talk him around to seeing some sense. Damn that man.”
Unable to watch her break in front of me, I shuffled my chair beside V’s and pulled her into my side. “As soon as school breaks for the holiday, we’ll leave. We can stay until Monday, Tuesday if you need us to.”
“Thank you. You’re a good man, Jackson. Your father would be proud.”
A lump formed in my throat and I nodded, too choked up to reply.
Chapter 13
~ ANA ~
I watched the trees sway gently in the breeze as Jackson drove us off campus and onto the road to Tillamook. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, a time to celebrate and be thankful. Nothing about this journey felt celebratory. Otis was sick, and Jackson stood to lose another father. Marcus might have appointed himself Jackson’s legal guardian after his dad died, but Otis and Jackson had a bond that superseded any title the courts could assign. They were family.