Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JAX
There are a few things that really piss me off.
Tourists who speed through our town like it’s their own personal racetrack and someone talking shit about Callie.
Derek fucking crossed a line tonight. Callie tried to act like it was all okay, but I saw the moment his words hit, the way her features crumpled. My girl should never be shamed.
After I close up, I make a call to my buddy Ben and get Derek’s whereabouts.
He’s still down at the hole, which is perfect for me because they don’t have cameras and no one in this town really gives a shit about him anymore.
Not after he got caught trying to meet up with some sixteen-year-old from out of town.
He’s a piece of shit through and through, and tonight, he’s going to learn what happens to people who think they can fuck with Callie.
I park a block away from the hole, pull on an old cap, grab the bat from the backseat of my pickup, and hop out.
Gripping the bat, I storm toward the bar.
They stay open an hour later than Maura’s place which is perfect timing for me.
There are barely any cars in the lot. I make my way to Derek’s fancy new Honda, swing the bat back, and smash it into the headlight. The alarm starts blaring. I ignore it, break the other headlight, then sit on the hood, resting the butt of the bat on the ground and putting my hands on top.
Derek comes busting out of the bar, stumbling from the beer and cheap liquor he’s been shooting. His bleary gaze lands on me. “Muffaucker,” he growls, running—quite terribly—over.
I don’t know if I’ll even need the bat. I let it clatter to the ground, and catch Derek’s fist, pulling him in and slamming my knee between his leg. Air whooshes out of him and he groans, toppling to the asphalt.
“I warned you,” I growl. “But you just don’t fucking listen.” I kick his stomach and he shouts for help. Dropping my knee onto his chest, I rip his hat off and shove it into the mouth, the brim stretching his mouth wide.
Someone bursts out of the bar, and I lift my gaze long enough to make eye contact with Helen, the bartender, for a moment. She sees who I have pinned and dips her head in acknowledgement and shuts the door. Leaving Derek with me.
His screams are muffled, and I stare down at him, disgust curling my upper lip.
“You’re a fucking pedo loser,” I tell him, slamming my fist into his nuts again. “You’re lucky I don’t have my knife or I’d chop your dick off.” I slap him and grip his chin, shaking him. “I don’t want you to even think her name, you understand?”
“Uck ew. Ees a ore,” he says around his hat.
Sighing, I grab the bat and stand, shaking my head. Guess I’ll be needing it after all. “What did I tell you?” The bat comes up and around, cracking into his left kneecap. Derek screams like a dying animal, probably waking up half the neighborhood.
Fucking hell.
I’ll have to be quick.
Smashing the bat into his other kneecap, shattering it as well, I watch as Derek writhes and screams and whimpers. Piss wets his pants and urine coats the air. I wrinkle my nose and kick him again for good measure, flipping the bat and catching it. I point it at his face.
“If you tell anyone, I will cut your dick off. Don’t test me.” I storm away and pull out my phone, calling Helen.
“Is he alive?”
“Unfortunately. He might need a hospital, though.”
“Fine. I guess I’ll be a good citizen.”
I open the driver’s side door of my truck. “You always were. Keep this between us?” Climbing in, I spare one last glance at the piece of shit who insulted my girl. He’s writhing on the ground in pain. I smirk.
“Of course. You owe me,” Helen says.
“Deal.” I hang up, toss my phone into the seat, and start my truck.
Like I said. No one fucks with Callie. Not anymore.
The second I push through our front door, I’m ready to collapse on my bed.
Fate has other plans. Knox and Brax sit at the kitchen table, both wide awake even though it’s late and they’re usually asleep when I get home.
Their matching expressions—tight-lipped and brows furrowed—tell me they know exactly where I’ve been. Great, here come the lectures.
I release a heavy breath and head straight to the fridge. My knuckles are throbbing, but there’s a savage satisfaction pumping through my veins that no lecture can kill. Cracking open a beer, I take a big drink and lean against the counter, looking at my brothers.
“Do you have something to say?” My voice comes out gruff. I’m tired of them, especially Knox, always telling me what to do or what not to do or how much I fucked up.
Knox and Brax share their who’s gonna deal with Jax’s shit this time look.
Knox breaks the silence first. “Helen called.”
I huff. Fucking snitch. So much for keeping it between us.
“Don’t be mad at her,” Knox says, reading my expression. “She was worried about you.”
“I don’t know why.” I take another swig. “I’m not the one in the ambulance.”
The words hang in the air. Brax sighs and leans forward, elbows on the table. “Do you want to tell us why you did it?”
My fingers tighten around the can, and the aluminum crinkles.
Derek’s words replay in my head. The slimy, shit-eating grin on his face when he’d called Callie a slut.
Fuck. Now I want to break his kneecaps all over again.
“You should’ve heard what he said about her.
” I drain the rest of the beer in one go.
“He called her a slut, asked if she was still sucking my cock.”
Knox’s scowl deepens. “So you broke his kneecaps? What about fire fighting? You think they’ll let you do that if you go around putting people in the hospital?”
No. The job is to save people, not hurt them, but I don’t regret what I did.
Not for one second. “You didn’t see the devastation on her face.
It was almost like she believed what he said about her.
” I rest my butt against the counter. “This was an even exchange. Probably should’ve chopped off his dick,” I mumble.
Brax chuckles, and Knox sends him a glare that could freeze hell. Brax’s mouth snaps shut.
“You think this is funny?” Knox demands. “He could wind up in prison. Is that what you want?”
“Get off your high horse,” I snap, pushing off the counter. “The Knox I used to know would’ve done the same thing for Callie. For one of his brothers. We protect our own, that’s what Dad always said.”
The color drains from Knox’s face and I know I’ve hit a nerve. Good. He needs to remember who he used to be before he became this brooding, closed-off version of himself.
“I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“No, you’re trying to control everything like you always do.” Anger boils in my gut. I take a breath. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for that fucking video Penelope took.”
The room goes silent. We rarely mention the catalyst that sent Callie running. That video tore our friend group apart. Her leaving broke each of us in some way.
“About that,” Brax cuts in, shifting uncomfortably. “How do we tell her it was Penelope and not Knox?”
I glance at Knox. “You have to do it.”
“She won’t even talk to me.”
“So make her!” My shout reverberates around the kitchen. “We can’t fucking lose her. Not again.”
“He’s right, Knox.” Brax runs a hand over his face. “It’s been ten years and she’s finally here. I don’t want to lose her again.”
Deep down, we’re all just little boys waiting for their mom to come back. Dad said she would. She never did. She left without even a goodbye. It’s hard not to think about her when I think about Callie.
But Callie came back.
Knox brushes his fingers through his hair, and I watch emotions play across his face—anger, sadness, pain, and something else I can’t quite name. “I don’t want to lose her either,” he finally says, voice rough.
Hope flickers in my chest. For the first time in years, the three of us are on the same page about something.
“Good. Then you go get our girl.” I cross my arms, waiting for him to agree.
Knox lifts an eyebrow. “Right now? It’s two in the morning.”
Jesus Christ. I roll my eyes. “Tomorrow then. Her mom will be at the summer festival committee, and I heard Maura talking at the bar, Callie will be there too.”
Knox nods slowly, and I can see him already retreating back into himself, calculating, overthinking everything.
Brax stands and claps a hand on Knox’s shoulder. “Just tell her the truth, man. That’s all any of us want.”
It seems so simple when Brax says it like that. But I know better. There’s a decade of silence and pain between us. Will Knox talking to her be enough to break that wall down? I fucking hope so.
“Don’t fuck this up.”
The unspoken hangs between us: because if you do, we might never get her back and one way or another, Callie Mae has always belonged with us.