Chapter 2
Jax
I love my family, but they’re driving me insane. It’s been four days since my crash and they’ve barely left me alone. I know I was complaining about how alone I felt, and wanting human interaction, but this isn’t the way I wanted my wish to be granted. To literally add insult to injury, I had to watch the arsehat that is Bishop Royal take my Big Air and Vert titles. The flake couldn’t throw a decent flair to save his life, but I guess without me there, the standard of competition dropped dramatically. But out of everyone there, why did he have to be the one to walk away with the wins? That spoiled daddy’s boy is a no-talent wanker who only got into the sport so daddy could brag to his buddies. I doubt he even likes the sport in the first place. Bishop fucking Royal. Even his name pisses me off, and now he’s got what should be my medals hanging around his neck.
At the moment I’m sitting on the couch of our hotel suite, playing with my dude Birthday Bear. Yes, I have a teddy bear, and no, I’m not ashamed of it. My dude BB and I have been through a lot together. He’s travelled everywhere with me and has the wear and tear to show for it. Although, he was originally Reed’s, so I’m going to blame him for that. Meanwhile, Reed, Bria, and Mav discuss what to do with me. And I’m left to think about how much of a failure I am. The run I was doing was one I’ve done hundreds of times before. I’ve had it down pat for months; it shouldn’t have been a problem for me. I mean shit, I’ve been working on more difficult runs than that for a while now. Does this mean I’m past it? I’m losing my touch? Will I be a has-been before I turn twenty-one? That’s not the direction my life is supposed to take, is it? I thought I was destined for great things, but maybe this is all I’ll get, all I’ll ever be.
No.
I would shake my head to clear my thoughts, but the pounding headache I have tells me that’s probably a bad idea. I’m Jax Ryan, BMX god, and one crash, albeit a really fucking impressive one, will not keep me down. Or down for long, depending on clearance from my docs, of course.
The conversation my brothers are having starts to filter in.
“The doctors said he should be fine to fly in the next couple of days,” Reed says.
“Okay, so I’ll change Aubrey and my flights so we can come back with you,” Mav replies.
“Are you sure?” Bria asks.
“Absolutely. He needs someone to take care of him, and since I still share a house with him, I guess that means I should do it.”
Oh please. “For fuck’s sake,” I exclaim, and then wince in pain. “I’ve got a broken collarbone and a concussion. I’m not an invalid. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.” I try to get up, but stumble as I do. The lasting effects of this concussion, my fourth, for the record, are totally kicking my arse. “And you”—I poke Mav in the chest when I finally stumble my way over to him—“are not my parent and I won’t be the reason you and your girl don’t make it to New York.” He told me on the phone a couple of weeks before we flew here that he wanted to propose to Aubrey in Central Park. I’ll be damned if the reason he doesn’t do that is me. The crease between his brows that used to be a permanent fixture but has disappeared in recent months is back with a vengeance. “I’m serious, Mav. I won’t be the reason you don’t get what you deserve. You’ve fought hard, don’t stumble at the last minute.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, a doubtful and slightly guilty look on his face.
“Don’t make me say it again,” I tell him sternly. A small smile cracks his hardened, typically good-looking Ryan face. Yes, I know we’re a bunch of good-lookin’ fellas, and no, I’m not ashamed to admit it. “Yeah, see, there we go.” I pinch his cheek, which immediately blushes. I smoosh my hand against his face and try to push him away, but only succeed in almost falling over myself. He grabs my forearm and steadies me.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?”
I nod, praying the movement doesn’t send the earth spinning again. “I’ll be fine.”
Seemingly convinced I am, indeed, able to look after myself, Mav and Aubrey head to New York, while Bria, Reed, and I make our way home. The reception when we get there is ten times worse than Reed and Mav’s mothering. Add to that the fact Bria is having a more difficult time with this pregnancy, and everyone is running around like we’re both about to fall apart at any minute. Plus, I still haven’t heard from Quinn since before the comp. I know she has a boyfriend, but do I mean that little to her she can’t even send me a message checking to see if I’m alive? Some doctor she’s going to be.
Bria comes back from the bathroom once again and joins me on the couch. The couch, the bathroom, and bedrooms are really the only places we’re allowed to be.
“They still discussing what to do with us?” Bria asks, nodding towards the Heads of State meeting currently going on in my kitchen.
“Yep,” I say, popping the p.
“I don’t think Jax should be here,” Park, my eldest brother, says. “I don’t like the idea of him having to climb stairs to get to his bedroom. Plus, he’s alone.” Great, thanks for the reminder, biggest bro.
“That’s a good point,” my pop says.
“So we’re agreed he should move back to our house then,” Park says. He, along with Christian, our pop, and Pa all live in the house we grew up in, behind the diner we own.
“Do you think it’s a good idea having Jax and Chris in the same house?” Liam asks. He’s the middle brother, coming after Reed but before Mav. He’s also a three-time National Racing Series champion for our team.
“Oh, yeah,” Reed says.
“We’d be more than okay with him staying with us,” Liam says. “In fact, it might be the perfect solution. That way, if he has any issues, Mase is there.” Mase is Mason, Liam’s hot-as-fuck partner. Now, I’m definitely a lover of all things lady, but it wouldn’t take much for me to turn for Mase.
Pop slaps Liam on the shoulder. “That’s perfect.”
“You have room for Bria?” Reed asks. “I don’t like the thought of her being home alone if I have to go out.”
“Sure.” Liam nods.
“Uh-uh,” Bria says, butting in. “I am not staying away from my husband and daughter. I have….” She trails off as she gets up and rushes to the bathroom. A minute later we hear her throwing up. Again. She comes out, wiping her mouth, and takes her seat on the couch. “As I was saying, I have morning sickness, not the plague. There is no way in hell I’m being separated from my family.”
“Angel—” Reed begins, but Bria sends him a look that shuts him up on the spot. Never let it be said the Ryan men can’t be tamed, ’cause that right there was exhibit A. “But—” he starts again, and is met with the same stern look. “Baby,” he whines, and I have to muffle my laughter. I love seeing my big, bad brother being cut down to size.
“I’m more than happy to move Ryan Racing operations to Liam and Mason’s house during the day, but at night I will be curled up in our bed with you and most likely our daughter, where I belong. Although, I’d love to share a bed with just my husband, but you refuse to make Avery sleep in her own bed. Got it?”
I love when Bria’s sassy side comes out. It’s so fun to see Reed’s reaction. Not that I would ever purposefully provoke her. I’m an angel and I would never be that devious.
Reed’s shoulders slump, and he sighs. “Fine,” he concedes.
“It’s settled then,” Pop says. “Jax will move in with Liam and Mase, and during the day Bria will work from there as well.”
“You know this is bullshit, right?” I ask, crossing my arms. Well, tucking my left into my right.
“What we know is that you are seriously injured and will need help to get around,” Park says.
“To get around?” I ask. “I broke my collarbone, not my leg. I can get around fine.”
“If you’re thinking of driving with that arm—” Pop says.
I brush him off. “Of course I’m not. Seriously, guys, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you I’m fine.”
“We’ll believe it when you can get up without stumbling,” Liam says.
I huff. “Just ’cause your world doesn’t rock,” I mumble.
“I think the point Liam was making,” Reed says, joining in on the rain on Jax’s parade, “is that your world isn’t rocking because you’re having a great time, it’s rocking because you have a nasty concussion.”
“Ah!” I yell, frustrated with them smothering me, and then wincing again in pain.
“Jax,” Pop says.
I manage to get up, stumbling only slightly, and head to my room.
“Where are you going?” Park asks.
“You guys have given me even more of a headache with all your unnecessary worrying, so if it’s okay, I’m going to take some Panadol and go to bed.”