7. Unhinged
CHAPTER SEVEN
Unhinged
Jax had never considered himself to be the jealous type. He had always been fairly confident in himself because he needed to be. As the oldest of four and the successor to the most infamous Reaper in The Society, Jax didn’t have the luxury of second-guessing himself.
“You’re a Donovan. There is no room for mistakes. And no room for sentiment.” His mother’s voice echoed in his mind. Sentimentality was a weakness. Feelings were a disability.
But as he crossed the yard, laser-focused on the man talking to his woman, emotion consumed him. Irritated jealousy pushed his feet forward. Burning rage grabbed the hot cast-iron skillet filled with grease from the grill. Unfurled impatience spun the skillet in his hand, sending grease flying.
Anger blurred his vision. Malice tuned out the surrounding noise. Jax had grown tired of pretending. Tired of the facade. Even he had his limits.
“...Jax?” He heard Deja, whose eyes widened in horror, as he casually twirled the heavy skillet, as if he were winding up a bat. “Jax!”
The horrifying sound of a sizzling cast-iron skillet making contact with Jose’s jaw was further exacerbated by the grotesque way his skin ripped from his face, sticking to the skillet.
Jax stalked Jose, who stumbled backward.
Jose raised his hand to shield his face, but Jax had swung the skillet so hard his hand snapped at the wrist, bone splitting skin.
Jose screamed in agony before Jax silenced him by violently smashing the skillet into his head.
The screaming behind him became static noise as blood splattered his face with each enraged blow. Even after he heard the crunch of Jose’s skull and his brain matter painted the sidewalk, Jax continued, as if it weren’t enough.
“Jax!” Deja screamed hysterically, grabbing his arm. “Jax, what are you doing?! Jax!”
“Jax?”
Jax looked down at Deja, grabbing his bicep before he looked into her worried eyes. “Baby? Are you okay?” Deja asked. Jax looked at her, confused, before she nudged with her chin. “Jose congratulated us on the baby.”
Jax blinked at the man standing next to Deja’s parents. A pert smile sat on Jose’s face as he looked Jax over. “She looks just like you,” Jose said, holding out his hand.
Jax reluctantly took it. “Thank you…”
Jose winced at Jax’s painfully strong grip. “It’s a bit jarring to see you in person. I’ve seen them talking about you and Deja all over the news. About how you died. How Deja’s the one who killed you,” Jose said, looking at Deja.
“The media is full of lies. You can’t listen to a damn thing they say. My daughter wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Jared said, nuzzling Chloe.
Jose chuckled. “Don’t worry. Your parents told me all about it. That you guys are keeping this hush to avoid paparazzi. Though I have to say, lying about being dead is pretty crazy.”
“It’s not just to avoid paparazzi; it’s for Deja’s protection,” Jax said curtly. “If you’ve been as up-to-speed on the media as you’ve said, you’d know they’ve not been kind to her. That their race-baiting, misogynistic stories risk putting her in danger. I want her safe.”
Deja’s chest expanded as she instinctively leaned into Jax just to feel his warmth. It astounded her, this ray of protection that covered her in his presence.
Jose blinked at Jax, startled. The man was intimidating.
“Well, yes, of course. Her safety is a priority,” Jose smiled at Deja.
She awkwardly smiled back, wishing they could end this conversation.
“But I have to ask,” Jose looked at Jax again.
“How’d you do it? How’d you evade paparazzi into thinking you’re still dead? ”
“That’s not something I feel comfortable about you discussing with my fiance,” Deja said protectively before Jax could respond.
Jax was surprised by her use of ‘fiancé’.
Though he wasn’t sure if she merely used it to throw Jose off, he took it as her acceptance that they would eventually be married.
“Oh boy. Is it one of those things where you can’t tell me, or you’ll have to kill me?” Jose joked.
“Immediately and without hesitation,” Jax said monotonously. Color draining from Jose’s face, Jose looked at Jax, alarmed. A pregnant silence thickened the tense atmosphere.
Deja’s laughter broke the awkward silence as she hung onto Jax’s arm. “He’s kidding! Obviously,” she chuckled anxiously. “Jax is a bit of a jokester, right, baby?”
“Yes, of course. That’s me. The jokester…” Jax muttered.
“Heyyy! You… you don’t have to be afraid of me…”
Shantell looked up at Keith, eyes wide with fear as she crawled back away from him. Tears streaked her small brown cheeks. “D-did… Did you k-kill him?”
Crouching, Keith looked at the dead Reaper bleeding out on the ground. “Oh naw. Naw, he’s just… pretending, see?” he said, lifting the Reaper’s head for her to see. “We’re just playing a game.”
“H-he looks d-dead,” she panicked.
“No, look- ah… Jerrr…emiah,” Keith said. “Jeremiah, wake up. You’re scaring the cute little girl.” Shantell stared at the dead Reaper, waiting for him to respond. “He takes this game very seriously,” Keith chuckled anxiously.
“B-but there’s b-blood everywhere,” she squeaked.
“It’s not blood,” Keith said, wiping the blood from the knife onto the Reaper’s shirt. “It’s um… ketchup. Yup.”
Shantell blinked at him. “I’m 7, not stupid!”
“Well, shit…” Keith muttered. “Okay, look… We’re friends, right? BFFs? Besties? What the hell do kids say these days-”
“I don’t know you!” Shantell panicked as she crawled away from him.
“Wait, Shantell- Com’ere!” Keith tried to grab her, but Shantell took off towards the garage. Stumbling over the equipment, she wiped the snot and tears from her face, running for her life. Her heart thumped chaotically in her chest, her head pounding with confusion.
She could hear music from the backyard getting louder as she got closer. Pushing past the coats, she fell through the bushes, scraping her knees on the pavement.
“Mommy-!” she shouted before a hand slapped across her mouth and yanked her backward.
Shantell screamed into the palm before falling onto the pavement.
Fear struck her heart as she looked up at another masked monster stalking towards her like the boogeyman that haunted her nightmares.
“Mommy!” she cried as he reached for her hair.
She grabbed her scalp as he dragged her down the sidewalk before she was knocked over.
Petrified with fear, Shantell watched Caleb mount the Reaper and grab his head between his hands before smashing the Reaper’s face into the pavement. She jumped, startled by the loud crack as the skull exploded against the concrete.
Sneering with disgust, Caleb spat on the Reaper. “Filthy piece of shit.” He quickly turned around, searching for Shantell, until he saw her on the ground, her knees bleeding. “Are you okay-”
But she scrambled away from him, attempting to run when Caleb grabbed her before she could move.
With his hand covering her mouth, she stared up at him with fear-stricken eyes.
“Shantell… I know you’re scared, but I need you to understand that I would never hurt you, okay?
I’m Deja’s friend. You can trust me,” Caleb whispered.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she stared at him helplessly. Caleb sighed. As a Reaper, he occasionally found himself in several compromising positions that he easily worked himself out of. But none of them involved a child. He glanced up just as Keith and Ian barged through the bushes.
“You caught her! Is that another Reaper? Where the fuck are these guys coming from?” Keith asked.
“I was coming to warn you both that I detected local Reapers in the area, but- ...please tell me you didn’t kill him in front of this child…” Ian sighed.
“Of course not, Ian. We’re just playing a little game called ‘don’t scream’,” Caleb said sarcastically. “There’s a freaking corpse on the pavement. What do you think?!”
“I mean… Did you ask her not to scream?” Keith shrugged.
“She’s a child,” Ian said.
“She’s 7. She emphasized before she ran out on my ass,” Keith smirked.
Sighing, Caleb looked at Shantell. “If I remove my hand… you have to promise me you won’t scream… Okay?” Shantell stared at him blankly. “Shantell, nod for ‘yes’,” Caleb ordered. As she nodded, Caleb removed his hand. Shantell remained silent but immediately ran around him before Ian blocked her.
“I want my Mommy!” Shantell cried.
Ian cringed. “Dear Roselyn, she’s crying. I don’t have a toy or… candy. What do little girls like?”
“I have a switchblade,” Keith said, flipping his blade between his fingers.
“What is wrong with you?” Caleb scolded.
Crouching down in front of Shantell, Caleb gently grabbed her shoulders.
“Hey there, tiger. I know you’re freaked out, but I need you to be a big girl for a minute, okay?
” Shantell looked at Caleb warily as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“There we go. There’s that adorable little face,” Caleb smiled.
“I got a boo-boo,” she frowned, touching her knees.
Ian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “Let me clean her wounds.”
“Ian will make your boo-boo better, okay?” Caleb said. Shantell apprehensively nodded as Ian crouched down next to her and gently wiped the blood from her knees.
She glanced at the body on the ground. “Is… he d-dead, too?”
Caleb tenderly turned her chin until she was looking at him again. “That’s not important right now. What’s important is that you’re safe. That’s why we did what we had to do. To protect you.”
Shantell’s eyes widened. “Like a superhero?!”
Keith abruptly snorted as Ian raised an amused brow. “Uhhh, sure. Like a superhero,” Caleb said awkwardly. “And like superheroes, we have a secret identity, so you have to keep our secret safe and not tell anyone, okay?”
A smile finally broke out on her face as she quickly nodded. “She’s… smiling?” Ian asked, confused.
“Kids are so weird,” Keith smirked.
“Either way, we can’t possibly expect a child to keep a secret like this one,” Ian said, standing to his feet.