Fighting Ever After (Ever After #3) (26 page)

Hesitation
crept over everyone’s face at his sobering words. This was the fucking mob, or
at least the mob of this century, and he was right. It made me want to put my
fist through something, but I wasn’t arrogant or dumb enough to ignore the
reality of the situation. We’d all been so fired up by our anger that we were
ready to rush out that door and dole out a little justice or vengeance – call
it whatever you want – but this wasn’t a Liam Neeson movie where that actually
worked. I didn’t know how to do nothing though; I wouldn’t be able to live with
myself if Connor got away with this and came back to hurt her again.

Helpless.
That’s how I felt when I looked at her, and I couldn’t
accept that. Anger was heating my blood and making it impossible to hold any of
my frustration back. “So then what, we just let him at her again because nobody
can do a damn thing about it?”

“I didn’t
say that,” he replied calmly. “There are two people in this room who could do
something about it.” It didn’t take long to figure out who he meant, and his
eyes rested softly on Jaxyn. “Jax, you need to go to Dad.”

She looked
like he’d just slapped her, and I could understand why.

“Why the
hell would she do that? Isn’t he a part of all this?” I demanded to know. I
couldn’t imagine how that could possibly be a good idea if everything I’d heard
was true.

“He won’t
hurt her and he doesn’t know what Connor did,” he explained and then took a
step toward Jax. “I know you think he was involved, and he was, but not the way
you think. He would never have let Connor get away with that, and he wouldn’t
now if you told him.”

“I can’t,”
she protested meekly.

“It’s the
only way to stop this without getting bloody, Jax.”

“You don’t
understand. I can’t.” Her voice was a little stronger this time, more
insistent, but traces of panic were still there. “It wouldn’t do any good. He
didn’t listen then and he won’t listen to me now. You weren’t there the last
time I tried to tell him, you didn’t hear the things he said to me. I can’t do
that again.”

“Then make
him listen,” Shane urged her.

“No,” she
snapped.

Shane seemed
to have expected her response, and tried to hide his frustration, but it was
visible. He closed his eyes and scrubbed his palms over them. When he opened
them again his expression was hard and resolved. He exhaled a deep breath.
“Okay. Then I’ll handle it.”

“What do you
mean you’ll handle it?” Jax asked nervously. I wanted to know what he planned
to do too.

“I meant
exactly what I said. I’ll take care of Connor.” I don’t think there was any
doubt in the room about what “take care of” meant.

“The hell
you will,” Jaxyn yelled at him. “When I said I didn’t want anyone going after
him, that
meant you too.”

“Too damn
bad, little sister. This is the only option if you won’t go to Dad. He wouldn’t
listen to me if I tried, it would have to be you.”

“No. That
can’t be the only option,” she cried desperately.

“I thought
you said it was too dangerous to go after Connor,” Ace spoke up. I wasn’t sure
if he was trying to help Jaxyn talk him down, or if he just wanted to
understand why Shane could do what he told the rest of us we would be fools to
attempt.

“Too dangerous for you guys.
My father and I aren’t on speaking terms,
but I’m still a Malloy. I can do this. I’m the only one who can get away with
it.” He hardly seemed pleased by it, but it was also obvious that he was set in
his decision. Still Jaxyn tried to change his mind.

“Shane, no,”
she started.

 “Just
stop,” he demanded, putting a halt to whatever argument she’d been about to
make.  His tone was harsh and unyielding. “This isn’t the first time I’ve
had to do something like this, and it’s never mattered as much as it does now.
Like your friend said earlier, at least this time it would be for something
important than just following orders. I can get to Connor like no one else can
and he won’t see me coming. He got a pass before when he shouldn’t have. I
should have ended him a long time ago and I’m not going to make that mistake
again. He’s never going to touch you again.”

 “But
you’ve got a family. You got out.” Her eyes were sad as they looked up at him.

 “And
I’ll still be out when it’s done, but it is going to be done. So stay here
until I tell you. If you have to leave, I want someone with you at all times.” He
looked around the room to make sure everyone heard and understood him and it
was much easier to believe that he was the son of a mobster than it was to
believe Jaxyn came from one. He fixed Jax with another stern look. “Stay out of
the bars and clubs.”

Nobody
argued or disagreed with him, even though I knew Jaxyn wanted to. After Shane
left, she got up and fled the kitchen, shutting herself inside Chris’ room. Not
even Bas went after her this time.

“This is
some crazy shit,” Spade muttered, clearing his plate from the table.

“You could
say that again.” I got up and made my way down the hall toward my room, pausing
at the door to Chris’ room, but I wouldn’t even know what to say to her, so I
kept going. It wasn’t until a few hours later that I remembered it was Monday
and we were supposed to call Leo at
SoundTrain
. I
made the call, but it was hard to be excited when there was a girl – one that I
cared about very much – whose world was falling apart in the room next door.

Having Jaxyn
around twenty-four seven wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be . . . at least
not all the time. There were definite difficulties, and plenty of them, like walking
out of my room and stumbling upon a towel clad Jaxyn exiting the bathroom fresh
from the shower. I had to turn my ass right back around. Then there was having
the shower and bathroom overrun with girly shit. I think the most troubling
part of that was that it didn’t bother me as much as it should have. Another
problem that arose, frequently, was her stubbornness. It ran deep, and most
days getting her to cooperate was harder than convincing the rest of the guys
not to bring “dates” home while she was here; that actually turned out to be
pretty easy. Kaylie was more upset than the guys were when I told her she
wouldn’t be coming over for a while. Just about every night I got a text from
her.

The list didn’t
stop there either. Supernatural episodes played on the
Tv
regularly. The whole house smelled fruity thanks to the wax cubes she liked to
melt. There was soy milk, freaking soy milk, in our fridge and she was trying
to convert us all into tea drinkers. She created a damn swear jar – I went
broke quickly. Thankfully it didn’t take her long to realize that it wasn’t
going to work and she gave up, but not before she made out with like a hundred
bucks. The worst part was that none of that did anything to relieve the almost
constant state of arousal I was living in and I was forced to lock myself in my
room to take care of it like a fourteen year old boy with nothing but my
fantasies and my own hand.

I had
another list too. This one of all the reasons I never wanted her to leave. It
was a slightly longer list. The rest of the guys would say the home cooked
meals and the tidying up she did around the place were the best parts of having
her here. If I said mine out loud, they would call me a pussy. Or maybe I was
just calling myself one because that’s what I would say about anyone else who
told me their favorite things about having a hot chick live them were: watching
her dance like a spastic clown while she cooks, hearing her awful singing
coming from the shower, seeing how excited she got when she found the stash of
those peanut butter cookies and M&M’s she loves that I got for her, arguing
with her over everything just because she’s so cute and entertaining when she
gets flustered, hearing her laugh and geek out during episodes of Supernatural
that weren’t as annoying as I pretended they were, watching her entire face
crinkle as she bites her lip in concentration while she works her pencil over
the pages of her sketch book, and observing her reading and knowing that when
her face flushes, she’s at a naughty part. I had to stop myself there before I
felt really pathetic, not that I could get much more pathetic.

I couldn’t
decide if it was the upside or downside of my job that I worked from home,
which meant that a lot of time it was just us. She still went to work most
days, but her boss was really flexible with her hours and allowed her to do a
lot of her work from home, over the computer.

On top of
that, there were times that I was pretty sure that she was playing with me just
to see how far she could push me, and maybe as punishment for never letting her
out of the house except to take her to work, but I wasn’t taking any chances
with her safety. She insisted that the smell of our laundry soap bothered her, even
though I was fairly certain that the
fresh rain
scent was the same damn
kind I’d seen sitting in her own pantry. She complained about the house being
cold even though it was fucking ninety degrees outside, and one night when we
were the only two
home
, she turned off my video game
to make me sit through endless chick flicks. Not one single car chase,
explosion or fight scene. I wanted to track down this Nicholas Sparks guy and
punch him in the face for filling girls’ heads with this stuff.

By the third
movie, I was sure she was trying to torture me, but instead of giving her the
reaction I knew she was looking for, I went into the kitchen and popped a giant
bowl of popcorn and then settled back onto the couch for the night, giving her
a look that said “bring it on.” It was even possible that by the end of that
movie that I decided maybe this Nick guy wasn’t so
bad,
I mean that one with the girl who has cancer.
Just damn.

She wasn’t
the only one who could play games though. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time
I walked through the house with my shirt off, her eyes followed me. Pretty soon
I was forgoing shirts altogether just to get to her, and I didn’t mind the way
she looked at me. One morning she was giving me a bad time about my daily
protein shakes, calling it sludge, but I just lifted the edge of my shirt up
over my abs and cocked an eyebrow at her. She huffed and set down her bowl of
cookies in milk and walked out of the kitchen. What I didn’t understand was how
she could consume as many cookies and M&M’s as she did and still look like
she did.

One of our
regular fights was over the fact that I wouldn’t let her go to the gym or go
for runs on her own. I offered to run with her, but she just scowled at my
suggestion and instead ran a few days a week with Chris and Ace.

Then there
were the few, rare moments that we actually managed to get along. As much fun
as our little back and forth was, it was nice to just be around her, without
the games and antagonizing one another. She liked to sit in on my music lessons,
and none of my students protested having a pretty girl to perform for. Even
Bryce, who was now officially dating Emily after the success of his movie in
the park date, blushed and tried to show off for Jax.

One
Wednesday, after I’d finished with my last student, I convinced her to let me
try to teach her a simple song on the guitar. That didn’t go so well, so we
tried to switch to the piano. I’m not sure which was worse, but after almost an
hour we both agreed that music wasn’t for her. She was too impatient, and
possibly tone deaf. It was cute watching her try though, and even if she
couldn’t play a right note to save her life, she could sure as shit draw. She
liked to sit out on the back deck and sketch most days after finishing with
work. She said it was her way of releasing all of the creative juices that got
flowing and built up when she was surrounded by so much art.

She sketched
all of us in the house with amazing detail. I hung the sketch she’d done of me
playing my guitar, in my room. One evening I found her sketch book on the
coffee table where she’d left it. She was in the shower and even though it felt
like an invasion of privacy, I flipped through it. There were a few landscapes
and architectural sketches, but most of them were people. Some were obviously
older ones that she’d done a while ago, but the most recent ones were the ones
that I looked at the longest as I flipped through it. There were several of her
niece
, some quick and rough, others very detailed
right down to the little dimples and ringlet curls. There were two of her
brother and they were in contrast with each other; in one he was smiling and
holding a tiny hand in his that connected to a little arm that disappeared off
the edge of the paper. The other one was darker; he wasn’t smiling, but wore a
hard expression and in his hand was a gun.

The next
page was an incomplete face, the features just a rough set of curves and lines,
all except for the eyes. They were done in great detail. There was enough of
the face and hair line to indicate that they belonged to a man – a middle aged
man. Even from a drawing I could tell that the eyes held no kindness. If I had
to guess I would say that I was staring at Daddy Dearest. The last picture I
looked at was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and she held a
striking resemblance to Jaxyn. I recognized her right away as the same woman
from the pictures at
Jax’s
house. She’d given her
soft, feathery wings and a halo of light.

I closed the
sketchbook and set it back on the table. It was pretty clear where
Jax’s
head was at and what was troubling her. We’d had no
news or updates from Shane; no idea what he had in the works or when it would
be over. Jax did a good job of covering up her worry and stress, but even
before seeing these sketches I knew it was all weighing on her.

The band
however, had been getting nothing but good news lately. Everything was coming
together for us. We’d had several phone chats with representatives and execs
from the label. We’d been contacted by a few agents looking to take us on and
help us negotiate contracts with
SoundTrain
.
We’d had face to face meetings with them, even hired one, and with
the label as well.
All that was left was to go over final details and
sign a lot of paperwork. It was all a little crazy and surreal. The label was
already talking about putting us on a major tour.

We hadn’t
told anyone yet, keeping most of it to ourselves until everything was final and
we knew it was really going to happen. Jax asked often, but we kept the details
vague, saying everything was still in the works. I also didn’t like thinking
about what would happen if this all took off before things with Connor were
resolved. We’d gotten away with not booking shows the past two weekends, but we
couldn’t keep that up any longer. Not that she’d ever asked us to; she was
pushing us to go on with our lives like everything was normal, but this time
off wasn’t just to look after her. We all needed a break to process and come to
terms with everything – the fire, the threat to her and really all of us for
getting involved, the label and what it could mean for our careers. It was just
a lot.

Jaxyn came
out of the bathroom in a pair of loose sweatpants and a tank top, drying her
hair with a towel. It was just the two of us tonight, well Marcus was upstairs
working on something, but when he got going with a project it was like he
wasn’t really here.

“There’s
Chinese takeout in the kitchen,” I told her. It had come right after she’d
gotten in the shower. She’d taken an especially long one tonight.  A
minute later she plopped down beside me on the couch with a plate of noodles,
eggrolls and a mix of the different kinds of chicken. She popped a bite in her
mouth, shutting her eyes and tipping her head back with a groan.

“Long day at work?”
I asked her.

“Yeah.
I picked the wrong day to wear heels to work. I was on my
feet all day, running around trying to get things organized for this big
showing we’re doing, and then I had to run all over the city posting up flyers.
It’s for this up and coming street artist, and this show is different than
anything the gallery has done before, so advertising for it is a little more
unconventional than just sending out invites.”

She
continued to tell me more about the artist and how they were featuring his work
in a unique way. I can’t say that I was all that interested, but she was, and
that made it easy to listen to her talk. I could hear her passion and
excitement, and even though I didn’t give a shit about the artist or his work,
I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in what she was saying. Everything
about her interested me these days.

When she had
finished eating, she set her plate on the coffee table and then eyed the X-box
controller sitting there and then gave me a questioning look. I knew she wasn’t
asking if she could play. I knew exactly what she wanted. I gave my head a
slight shake but told her to go ahead and then I prepared myself for yet
another night of the Winchesters. She’d made me start from season
one,
and we were about halfway through the third season now.
When she saw what episode we were on she got all excited and told me how much
she loved this episode. She did that with pretty much every episode though.

Once she got
it going on Netflix, she curled onto the couch and started to tuck her tired
feet under her. I grabbed her ankles before she could and pulled them into my
lap. She looked at me, unsure of what I was doing, and I could see the protest
on the edge of her lips, but when I peeled off her ridiculous neon polka dotted
socks and started massaging the arches of her feet, all protest died and the
only sounds she made after that were soft little sighs and deep groans.

I struggled
to keep my thoughts on what was happening on the show, but as innocent as the
touches were, my desires were anything but. It was hard not to imagine the
sounds she would make if I slipped my hands just a little further up her legs
to that sweet spot between them. Hell, I would settle for just being able to
touch a little more of her, like skimming my fingers up her toned calves,
caressing the smooth skin up to her thighs, sliding the straps of her tank top
off her shoulder and massaging her back and neck, but I’d been so careful not
to cross that line. I couldn’t blow it now.

While I kept
my attention focused on the
Tv
in front of me, out of
the corner of my eye I kept seeing her steal glances at me and then quickly
looking away. I wasn’t the only one struggling to hang on to the boundaries
we’d set. This was by far the most intimate moment we’d shared since she
temporarily moved in. When I looked over at her and just happened to catch her
looking back at me, our eyes locked and like so many other times, I wanted
nothing more that to kiss those slightly parted, full lips. For a brief second I
thought she was going to make the decision for the both of us and do it, but
then she exhaled slowly and looked away, the moment gone and the chance missed.
It was better that way, even if the disappointment didn’t disappear so quickly.
I released her feet and she tucked them under her.