Chapter 1
JAX
Currently playing: Chapter One by Lifehouse
As I walk inside, my oldest cousin, King, is the first to greet me with a tight hug. “Hi J, how’s the shop?”
King is my boss at King Tattoo, a chain of tattoo shops he started almost fifteen years ago at the age of twenty.
Now, he has a total of twelve shops around the country, and King Tattoo is one of America's most successful tattoo shops. Obviously, he wants to know how everything is going with the Brooklyn location I manage, even though I’m not here to talk shop.
“Oh, Ethan, you know I don’t like to discuss business in my free time. Get back to me later during office hours,” I mock, and his low chuckle catches the attention of the people around us. A few heads turn to watch us.
“Fair game, cuz. But you better call me King if you want to keep the business you don’t want to discuss,” my cousin reminds me.
I look at him and smile mischievously. “No way, Ethan. Whenever you mention work, I treat you like you’re my boss, not my cousin.”
He mumbles something under his breath before looking at me. “I get it. I do, Jax—”
“I’m sensing a but coming.”
King sighs and shakes his head. “Never mind. Let’s get you seated before we continue this conversation.”
My cousin saunters towards the big round table in the middle of the busy restaurant where there’s a reservation sign for the Kingston family.
I sometimes wish I was still a Kingston.
After my mom married my first stepfather when I was a toddler, my last name changed to Bennett.
I thought about changing back to Kingston, but when I was finally able to make the legal decision myself, it just didn’t feel right.
After being Jackson Bennett for so long, that name was a part of me in a twisted way.
Now the name will die with me, too, since my asshole stepfather never had children who could continue his lineage. And I won’t either.
As I get to the table, Angel, my middle cousin, stands up and greets me.
I swear, he's been spending more time at the gym since I last saw him—he’s getting huge.
“Dude, what the fuck are they feeding you in LA? It looks like you’ve gained at least fifty pounds of pure muscle since I saw you like six months ago. ”
He chuckles and runs a hand over his thick beard while flexing his impressive muscles. “Only like twenty-five, but thanks. I’ve got so much free time now that I finally found an assistant that knows his shit.”
I'm glad he's found the right person to help with the business. Angel owns a music label called Wing Records on the West Coast. It's been growing steadily, and he signed one of his most prominent artists earlier this year.
“Where are Big O and your pops?”
“Big O is in the shop two streets over getting something nerdy. Pops is taking a call out on the terrace,” King informs me.
Big O is the youngest of my cousins and four years older than my twenty-six.
He’s a computer genius like my best friend Eli, but with a different type of skill set.
Where Eli enjoys data, coding, and analysis, Big O spends his day creating websites and editing photos and videos.
His client list is impressive, and there’s a year-long waitlist to be on that list. He also loves all things sci-fi and fantasy—he’s read The Lord of the Rings trilogy at least twenty times.
One time was enough for me, especially since it took months to finish.
I walk past the restrooms, open the outside patio door, and see Uncle Joey’s big frame leaning against the brick wall. No wonder my cousins are over six feet tall when you look at my uncle. He’s even taller than my six-foot-four. His build is also stockier, and tattoos cover his tanned arms.
Uncle Joey spots me and signs that he's done with his call soon. I check my phone while waiting for him to finish—still nothing from Tiffany, my girlfriend of close to ten months. I should be happy that she isn’t blowing up my phone, but at the same time, it feels like something is brewing below the surface.
She’s been skittish lately—nothing like her normal.
When the call ends, my uncle turns my way. “Gimme a minute to finish this, son.” My uncle gestures to his cigarette and smiles at me like he always has. His joy at seeing me reaches his eyes and brings out his dimples, warming me up from the inside.
“I’m glad you could join the Three Musketeers for their trip,” I tell the man who helped to raise me. I never knew my father, who passed away before my birth. But I had Uncle Joey as a father figure growing up.
“Of course, I would never miss an opportunity to see you. Unlike my sister.”
I cringe at the mention of her. “Yeah. I haven’t heard from Trisha since I moved to New York. It’s like I stopped existing after that. I don’t even know if she’s still with husband number five—or was it six?”
“You know I haven't heard from her after you were put in the system all those years ago, so I have no idea how many fools Trisha has managed to marry after him.”
“Uncle Joey, you can use his name. I know things with Arnold didn’t go smoothly, but we need to let go of the past to feel better. It’s been years. It doesn’t help to think about what could have been done differently.”
My uncle lets out a humorless laugh. “I know, but I’m worried your past will haunt you forever. You stabbed your damn stepfather, after all. Even if you were just a teen, and it was self-defense, the events of that night must have left a mark on you. No matter how well you try to hide it all.”
He’s right—there are emotional marks that I can’t erase, like nightmares and random flashbacks. But I can’t show my uncle how his words affect me. He blames himself enough for all the bullshit that happened to me before I turned eighteen and could make my own decisions.
“Don’t you worry about me. It’s all in the past. Trust me.”
“I’ll take your word on it, kiddo. But you know how to get in touch with me if you ever feel like talking about it.”
My uncle stomps out his cigarette and pulls me into his embrace, whispering how he’s glad I’m here with him and his boys.
My mother, Trisha, never liked her older brother and tried her best to keep us apart.
It worked for a few years when she had me placed in the foster system instead of his care.
But thank fuck, I’m an adult now and can decide whom to spend my time with.
I follow Uncle Joey inside and stop on the way to message Tiffany. Using speech-to-text, I send her a short text.
Jax: I’m out with King, Angel, Big O, and Uncle Joey. I should be back before midnight. Don’t wait up.
I sit next to Angel and pretend to check the menu for a moment while anxiously waiting for Tiffany’s reply—she wasn’t too pleased when I left the loft we share.
Tapping the table to the beat of a rock song on the restaurant’s radio, I squirm in my seat.
My phone vibrates with more than one message.
Once the vibration ends, I check my screen and groan—five new messages.
Opening our text conversation, I quietly pronounce the words as I read them. Because of my dyslexia, it helps me to read messages aloud. I learned that trick in high school, but given that I’m in a public place, I try to do it without drawing any attention to myself.
Tiffany: I wouldn’t wait even if you asked
Tiffany: I’m still mad at you *angry emoji* *angry emoji*
Tiffany: So fucking mad
Tiffany: I’ll spend the night at my friend’s
Tiffany: Don’t wait up tomorrow, asshole *middle finger emoji*
When I left our place an hour ago, Tiffany was shouting how it’s upsetting that I want to spend time with other people instead of her during our day off.
She didn’t seem to understand that I wanted to be with my family since I rarely see them.
According to her, she’s more important than my family.
Sure. Whatever. There’s nothing I can do as she thinks I’m wrong, not her. Never fucking her.
I spend enough time with Tiffany as it is.
Besides living together, we work at the same tattoo shop five days a week.
I was the one who got her the job as the shop’s receptionist. We needed someone to help me when our previous guy left to spend more time with his kids on short notice.
Tiffany had lost her latest job a week earlier, and I made the decision with my dick instead of my head.
And that’s how my girlfriend became the receptionist and my assistant.
Everything was fine until a month ago. She’s been acting out lately, making me wonder if this is what I want from life—a partner who doesn’t trust me.
I’ve caught Tiffany going through my phone more than once.
She also sends me multiple messages every time I go out with friends, asking if I’m still coming home for the night.
She often wants to know if I’m hanging out with any female friends, which includes Rose, my close friend who’s also my best friend Eli’s girlfriend.
Tiffany seems to think the worst of me, which grates on my nerves, as I’ve been a good, loyal boyfriend. And I would never cheat. Never.
My inner dialogue is cut short by two of my cousins discussing the latest Marvel movie. Uncle Joey laughs and listens to what his sons have to say.
“Man, it was the bomb, I’m telling you,” Angel tries to convince his older brother.
King shakes his head disapprovingly. “No fucking way, it was below their normal standards. Like, what was that ending about?”
“But dude, it was the best part! Did you miss the second half of the movie or something?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” King huffs.
My cousins keep bickering until I wave my hands. “Let’s wait for Big O. He’ll be the one to judge this debate as I haven’t seen it yet.”
They both turn to look at me.
“You haven’t seen it?” Angel asks.
I shake my head in answer. My cousins seemed to have forgotten that I’m more of a DC guy. I know they all love Marvel more.