“There he is! So what’s the good word?”
There were no good words. Nothing but the sight of Lena darting away from him like he carried some dark plague that would infect her to the core if she dared to get too close. In the split second following her unexpected departure, he made the move back to his bike and started after her, watching her hair whipping in the wind as she intensified her speed. As soon as she was back on the main strip and racing her way home, a gnawing in his gut caused him to bring the bike to a halt. Confused as he was, longing to know more, like why and how he could fix whatever had her so spooked? He couldn’t bring himself to keep up the pursuit. If it – he – scared her so much, better to give her some space until he could try another run at her. But would he ever even get that chance?
Artie was already on his second beer as Jax stomped into the Black Legion clubhouse. Day was already turning to night; Jax had spent more hours than he could count moving in circles as he tried to understand. Not another living soul was to be found, and Jax snorted at the sight of the older man perched on his stool.
“Know what they say about drinking alone,” Jax cautioned.
“Then how about you join me?” Artie offered. “We’ll make it a regular old party.”
Jax barely touched his brew as he twirled his finger around the rim of the glass, a heavy sigh escaping his chest as kept his head bowed towards the bar.
“Take a load off, kid. Whatever it is can’t be that bad, right?”
“Think I screwed up,” Jax confessed.
“But I thought you were like the man with the plan or something. Like you’d meet her in your hideout or whatever and just make with the sweet talk.”
That was, indeed, the idea, and just the sight of her slender frame below the trees, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders gave him the supreme sense that the power to turn back time was something somehow suddenly at his disposal. The smell of her skin still wafted into his nose, almost felt as if it were running through his veins when words far worse than goodbye penetrated his brain.
I can’t do this. It hurts too much.
Why should his apology, his admission that they could get back to a sweet place and go further be something she could not bear? He never should have gone back to her uncle’s, never should have put her down, speaking first and asking questions later. No turning back the clock now. And if there were no going forward with her hand in his, maybe it was best for time to stop altogether.
“Buck up, boy,” Artie said as he slapped his hand to Jax’s back and motioned for him to take a drink. “Give her a day or two to cool off. You said she’s sticking around, right?”
“Has no choice now,” Jax mumbled. “Kind of feel like that’s my fault, too.”
“At least it’s not the same as last time,” Artie asked as he started off his stool to fetch another round. “Now if that shit had come out, bet that would have set old Sully straight for good and all.”
Jax was barely listening, still searching for what else he might have done and what he could have gotten right when something in Artie’s throwaway comment perked his ears to total attention, and he turned his head over his shoulder and watched Artie moving towards the pool table with a fresh mug clenched in his fist.
“Want to rack ‘em up?” he offered. “Good game might help take your mind off of---”
“What the hell did you just say?” Jax asked as he sprang to his feet and stared at the other man hard.
“What? What did I say?”
“Not the same as the last time? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You know, when…” Artie’s voice trailed off and cut out altogether as his eyes went wide and he shuffled his feet against the cold concrete floor as he fiddled with a pool cue and took another pull from his beer.
“When what?” Jax insisted, his eyes narrowing into a questioning glare.
Artie gave him nothing but a goofy grin and a half-hearted shrug as he tried to turn back to the felt. “Don’t mind me, man,” Artie said. “Probably just getting my names and my faces all mixed up” A sharp cry left his lips as Jax slapped the mug from his hand. A thousand splinters of shiny glass hit the hard floor, and Artie tried to talk again. But as Jax charged toward him, hissing as his chest heaved, Artie raised the pool cue in a defensive pose as Jax watched him try to backpedal. “It’s nothing, kid. Forget I said it.”
“Like hell, Artie,” Jax spat. “If there’s something I don’t know about her and need to fucking know, sure as shit you’re gonna tell me right now.”
“Jax, you don’t want to---”
Wrangling the pool cue from Artie’s hands, Jax brought it down against his thigh and snapped it in two like a hollow reed. Flinging one half to the side, Jax wielded the other piece with the sharper edge like a sword. His free hand curled its way around the back of Artie’s head, he grabbed hold of the man’s chrome dome and forced him to meet his eyes, and he touched the tip of the shattered cue to his neck. “Tell me right now,” Jax threatened. “Or I swear to God, I’ll show you what it feels like to break in two.”
Artie cowered as he frowned. This was wrong. Artie hadn’t done anything. The man had a code. But he also kept every one of the crew’s secrets buried in the back of his brain. Like a lock box, he usually knew when to spill and when to keep the lid slammed shut. Now he slipped. First time for everything. But Jax was not about to let this slip of the tongue pass him by.
“Okay,” Artie said. “How about you let a guy up and grab a cold one first?”
Jax loosened his grip, but he still stood between Artie and the bar, the shattered pool cue never leaving his hands. “Get a drink after,” Jax said. “Explain yourself right now.”
Artie started to object when he simply cracked his knuckles and hung his head. If the bald man couldn’t even bring himself to meet Jax’s eyes, this had to be far worse than anything that he could have ever imagined. “It’s like this,” Artie said. “Sully’s a fiend when it comes to the numbers.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jax countered. “What does this have to do with Lena?”
Artie’s eyes darted around the room. It was as if he suddenly seemed scared that someone might overhear whatever it was that he had to say. But Jax would not relent, and Artie started to fill in the blanks.
“It was like right before she took off.”
When she had changed towards him, when she had grown cold. He had no desire to linger in the mystery. All he wanted was the why.
“Come to think of it, I kind or remember you coming to me about that – had all those questions as to what you might have done wrong. Pretty sure I told you there was no stain on your hands.”
“Stop dancing, Artie,” Jax hissed. “Get to the god damned point.”
Jax threatened him with the pool cue again, and Artie looked like he was beat as he waved his hands before his face and spoke fast. “All right!” he bellowed. “Old Sully was in for more than he could even hope to get his hands on. Even if his luck started to change. Word was that the Boss was going to bust him up so bad so he’d have to like eat through a straw.”
Jax searched his memory for something even close to the confession, but nothing sprang to the front of his mind, and he told Artie as much.
“Like you wouldn’t have challenged him,” Artie continued. “We all knew you were sweet on the blonde – even then.”
“Fine,” Jax said. “But last I saw, old Sully is still walking and playing the fool. So where did he come up with the money?”
“It was Lena,” Artie admitted. “Just like now, the little girl came through for him.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. How could she have gotten her hands on that kind of money?”
Artie’s face darkened, and Jax’s heart burned in his chest as he spoke softly. “Other kinds of currency, kid. You know how he rolls.”
No. No he wouldn’t have…
A question started to form around his lips when the door crashed open. Jax turned hard at the sound of Eric whistling a flat tune, and as their eyes locked, Jax forgot Artie and turned his rage on his stepfather. “You bastard! You son of a fucking bitch!”
Eric was too stunned and too slow to speak as his stepson charged towards him and grabbed his collar.
“It was you!” Jax screamed. “Fucking asshole!” Plowing his fist into his gut, Eric doubled over, and Jax took advantage of his weakness to force him towards the pool table. Holding him down there, Jax struck him again and again, barely registering the feel of Artie’s hands as he tried to pry him away.
“Don’t do it, Jax!” Artie said. “I shouldn’t have said anything!”
Jax tried to push him off as Eric kicked his legs out from under him. Falling to the floor, Artie braced Jax’s body before the point of impact, and Eric struggled to his cheek as he wiped away the blood dribbling from his mouth. Spitting a loose tooth at Jax’s feet, Eric looked at the pile of shattered glass with a smirk.
“What’d I miss?” Eric asked. “Must have been something major.”
Artie kept him at bay as Eric stepped back to the bar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He took a straight swig and grimaced as he tapped his fingers against the hardwood. “Someone gonna start talking? Or do I need to call the rest of the boys back from the run?”
Whispering for Jax to stay still and cool down, Artie moved to the bar and suddenly spoke fast. “My fault, Boss,” he said. “Sort of let something drop.”
“Something?” Eric asked as he took another sip. “So you ladies gonna keep me in suspense, or maybe I can guess.”
Jax struggled to his feet, seething with each step as he glared into Eric’s eyes. “What the hell did you to Lena?” Jax demanded.
“Oh for Christ’s sake! Can’t you think about anything like that little piece of tail? Why not just find her and get your rocks off. Bet that’d do you a world of good.”
“Like you did?” Jax asked.
Eric’s eyes were cold as he took another drink. “Artie, Artie, Artie,” Eric chided. “Thought you were made of stronger stuff.”
“Slip of the tongue, Boss,” Artie pleaded. “Won’t happen again!”
“Not when I’m through with you!” Eric barreled toward the bald guy and looked ready to smash his face in when Jax intervened. Pushing Artie back, he raised his fists and sneered.
“Pick on someone who can really fight back!” Jax spat.
Eric started to unspool his belt as he laughed. “Maybe it is high time that I put you over my knee, boy. Pound some sense into your head.” He snapped the leather against Artie’s abandoned stool, but Jax kept his glare hard and focused as his mind filled with Lena and what she might have endured.
“You hit her, too?” Jax demanded.
“Hit who?”
“Lena! My Lena! You gonna stand there with a straight face and tell me that you didn’t hurt her?”
Eric smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Kid, the cunt came looking for me,” Eric said. “Said she’d do whatever it took to keep her own safe. So I just---”
“You just took it to your disgusting level and you demeaned her.”
Jax kept his fists in check as Eric kicked the broken glass under his feet and licked his lips. “You’re just steamed that you didn’t get to ride her first,” he said.
“Don’t even talk about her like that.”
“And what’s the problem now, little man?” Eric smirked. “Girl’s back home, and you can’t even get a taste?”
Everything clicked. Why she left, why she kept pushing him away when he tried to pull back and make it right. “How could you?” Jax muttered. “She was… she is pure.”
“Not so pure,” Eric said as he flicked a smoke from his pack and struck a match on the heel of his boot. “Give you a play by play if you want?”
Jax wanted nothing but to choke the life from his body. Maybe his mother had run; maybe… no. He hated her for taking the easy way out into the shadows, leaving him in the harsh glare of Eric’s eyes. Made her no kind of mother. But Jax wasn’t the one trapped as his spouse. Did she think her son would finally see him with his full stare and get wise so he could go on his own way? Take off and never look back? Maybe make her way back to his side?
But then there was Lena. “Don’t you even ever think about touching her again,” Jax hissed. “Lena is off limits to you.”
“Really?” Eric asked. “Don’t see her hanging on your heels right now. What if she’s settling some other debts without your knowing?”
Jax wheeled his arm back and punched him hard. Eric crashed into the bar, and the bottle fell from his hand. Artie moved fast to help him, and Jax seized the chance to turn his back in search of his bike. Eric had it wrong; wherever she was, he pictured her sad and scared. And he had to get back to her side and show her, prove to her that there was nothing more to fear now that he knew the truth.
Riding fast and hard, Jax tore through the streets of Deerfield. How had he not seen it? Something so dark was the only reason she would have run away without the smallest word. I should have protected her. I should have stopped her.
Ready to race up the street to her uncle’s house, Jax started to slow when he glanced down the incline. There, pressed against the creek, sat a familiar figure, and even from the distance, a pair of eyes met his as he grinded the bike to a halt. At the fear that she would run and hide at the sight of him, Jax held his ground, and dismounted his bike.
Lena made no move as he rushed towards her, looking like a deer in headlights as he charged forward. “Jax? What the hell is---?”
He fell to her side and held onto her wrists as she tried to stand and push away from him.
“We have nothing else to say to each other!” she said. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Not until you tell me why,” he demanded.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why didn’t you tell me what he did to you?”