Chapter 27 #2
He takes one step into the alley, and his head turns toward the SUV. The streetlamp catches his face for a second, and I see recognition harden there, as if he’s already guessed Bash is in there. Then his eyes come back to us and the air shifts so fast, my head spins.
Jax wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, blood smearing across his knuckles. “You always throw your servers out like that?” he tosses out, trying for humor and landing on provocation.
Elias’ hand clamps the back of my shirt for half a second, firm and anchoring. “Stay behind me,” he orders, stepping in front of me as if he needs to protect me from the fight that sure as hell is about to break out.
Always trying to protect when you don’t have to, Elias.
Jax snorts as he straightens, staring at the guard like he’s not a massive brick wall of a man. “Yeah, no. This shit ain't gonna fly,” he shoots back, rolling his neck once.
The guard closes the distance, but Elias meets him head-on with little to no fear.
He plants his feet and brings his hands up, shoulders squared, breathing controlled, the way he did when he took up boxing for a year.
His first punch is heavy, not fast, but strong enough that if it lands, it could end things quickly.
It doesn’t.
The guard takes it on his forearm, and the impact is dulled. Elias resets in a second flat, throwing another punch. This time the guard catches his wrist, yanks him forward, and drives a compact punch into Elias’ ribs.
Elias grunts, his breath cutting, yet he stays upright anyway through pure willpower.
Jax launches before I can even think of the word "don’t".
There's no plan or patience, just Jax deciding the quickest way through a problem is to hit it until it stops being a problem.
He throws an elbow, then a fist, then a knee, chaining it together in a messy, violent rhythm that would overwhelm most people.
But not this guy. He blocks, absorbs, and then grabs Jax by the front of his shirt and shoves him into the wall hard enough I think the brick shudders.
Jax coughs, laughs through it, and pushes back off the wall. “Okay,” he breathes, eyes bright with the kind of stupid courage that makes me want to strangle him and also hug him. “Your turn, Theo. Show him why you’re the responsible one.”
The guard turns toward me, and his gaze does that quick sweep, assessing. I can practically hear the mental math: he shouldn't be a problem.
I step in, already knowing power won’t work on him. Speed might, angles will, and the only advantage I have is that I’m thinking while Jax is acting and Elias is enduring.
The guard swings first. A straight punch, fast enough that my brain barely registers it before my body moves.
I pivot and let it pass my cheek by inches, then catch his wrist, and twist just enough to pull his shoulder out of alignment.
I drive my knee into his thigh and sweep his leg, aiming to take his base.
He staggers, catches himself, and snaps his elbow down toward my collarbone. Pain flares hot and immediate as I bite back the yell, because the second I make a sound, he’ll know he found a weak spot.
I release and slide back, rolling my shoulder once, recalculating, my heart trying to claw out of my throat. Elias steps in again, pulling his fists up with his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jump. The guard shifts his weight to meet him.
That’s my opening.
I come in behind him and hook my arm around his elbow, twisting the joint enough to pull him off balance without giving him leverage to grab me. I drive my foot into the back of his knee, hard. His leg buckles and he drops to one knee.
Elias doesn’t waste the second. His fist comes down across the guard’s jaw with a crack that makes my stomach flip.
Jax lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit,” he blurts, sounding impressed in spite of everything.
The guard spits blood onto the pavement, eyes snapping up, and his hand goes to his coat. My blood goes cold.
He's got a gun.
“No,” I bark, lunging forward, but Jax moves faster.
He slams into the guard from the side, driving his shoulder to the guy's chest, knocking him flat, and ripping the coat open with both hands.
The guard’s hand comes out holding a knife.
So not a gun, but still not good.
The blade catches the streetlamp, and for half a second, my brain stops being a brain and becomes a single screaming thought: Raine.
Elias’ boot pins the knife before it can fully clear. “Drop it,” he orders, voice low enough to vibrate.
The guard doesn’t listen, clutching the handle tighter.
Jax sucks in a breath and grins, because he’s insane. “Oh, cool,” he tosses out, leaning in. “You brought party favors.”
Then Jax headbutts him, forehead to nose. The guard’s head snaps back, and the knife slips in his grip for the smallest window of time, allowing me to take it.
I grab his wrist, knocking his hand against the brick until it opens and the blade clatters onto the pavement. He bucks, shoving Jax off, and scrambles to his feet, with blood in his mouth and murder in his eyes.
Elias steps forward, breathing controlled, even with his ribs clearly screaming at him.
The guard's gaze flicks down the street to where the SUV vanished. Then back to us. Whatever he sees, whatever he decides, he backs up one step, then another, eyes locked on ours as if he’s filing our faces away for later.
Jax wipes his lip again, still breathing hard. “Yeah,” he calls after him. “Walk away.”
The guard turns and disappears into the night as the alley goes quiet. Elias exhales slowly, pressing his palm to his ribs for a second before dropping it back by his side. Meanwhile, Jax paces in a tight loop, needing motion to keep from shaking.
I stare at the empty street where the SUV went, my hands starting to tremble now that the adrenaline’s got nowhere else to go.
That’s it.
Bash isn’t coming back.
He’ll never be seen or heard from again.
“Did we just—” The words scrape out before I can stop them, my stomach twisting hard enough I think I might actually puke right here.
Elias’ gaze stays on the road, steady and grim. “Take a beating, deal one back, and become murder accomplices?” he questions, voice flat as a diagnosis. “Yeah.”
Jax drags a hand through his messy hair and lets out a short laugh that doesn’t sound real. “Allegedly.”
My throat tightens and I swallow hard, feeling sick because even though we won the fight with the guard, it feels as though we crossed a line we can't come back from with Bash. And under the nausea, under the fear, under the reality that we can’t undo what we just did, there’s relief that tastes wrong in my mouth.
Because Bash kissed her.
Because he threatened her, made her life hell.
Because he bragged about it and said she'd come crawling for more.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and force my feet to move.
“Let’s go,” Elias says, already turning toward the bar door.
Jax falls into step beside him, still wired, still grinning too wide. “Next time,” he mutters, voice dropping, “we pick a plan that involves less almost-getting-stabbed.”
Elias cuts him a look that could split stone. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”
I follow them back inside, my heart still hammering, my hands still shaking, and my brain already racing ahead to the part where we have to look at Raine and act normal.
Because the hardest part isn’t what we just did.
The hardest part is doing it for her, and trying to keep it from her later.