Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Jaxon sat up straighter. “Okay, what else you got?”
A noise on the stairs drew everyone’s attention, especially Jaxon’s. Every instinct he owned snapped to attention. Eight years of training would do that to a man, and it wasn’t going to go away in a day.
It didn’t take long for an inmate to learn that you didn’t ignore footsteps in the wrong place, at the wrong time. That sound could mean a guard looking for trouble… or worse. For him, it had meant a man with a shank who’d been paid to make sure Jaxon never made it out of prison alive.
Jaxon’s spine snapped straight before his brain could catch up. His eyes remained fixed on the top of the stairs. Eight years of training could do that to a man.
Gage’s younger brother, Dax, entered the room, huffing like he’d taken the stairs two at a time.
Jaxon relaxed a fraction, but not completely. Freedom might’ve put him outside the walls, but prison had rewired things inside him.
Dax ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry I’m late.” He glanced at Jaxon before turning to Reid. “Did you already tell him?”
Reid shook his head. “Thought it’d be better coming from you.”
With a firm nod, Dax focused on Jaxon. Jaxon gave the man credit. He got straight to the point. “There’s something you need to know.” The sharpness in the kid’s voice scratched at Jaxon’s nerves.
Dax glanced back at Reid, then Gage, and finally back at Jaxon. “Last night I went back to the DA’s office after hours to finish a closing argument. Thought I was the only one there.”
Jaxon’s gut tightened. Nothing good ever started with that sentence.
Dax kept talking. “But then I heard someone in one of the offices down the hall, the old DA’s office. It was Phillip Thorne. He’s the General—I mean, Alexander Boucher’s lawyer.”
Jaxon’s jaw hardened at the name.
The General’s lawyer, more like his loyal attack dog.
Jaxon knew him alright, but eight year ago he’d had no idea that Thorne, who at one time was supposed to be representing Jaxon in court, was on the General’s payroll.
This Thorne guy smiled in courtrooms while burying people alive with crooked legal maneuvers.
Dax continued, slower now, as if he was replaying every word in his mind. “He was on the phone. I didn’t hear everything. The door was half-closed, and I came in near the end of the conversation.”
Jaxon leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. “What did you hear?”
Dax hesitated. Then he said, “The last thing Thorne said before he hung up was… ‘I’m your lawyer. I work for you, Alexander. Not the other way around. If you want me to handle Taziana, I will. As long as we both understand the order came directly from you.’”
The words slammed into Jaxon like a steel bar across his ribs.
Taziana.
Not Jaxon. Not Ruick.
Her name. Taziana.
For a second, the office disappeared. Dark curls whipping in the Tennessee mountain wind filled his vision, and a soft laugh filled his ears. The laugh she used to give when she thought he was being ridiculous. He could still feel the warmth of her hand sliding into his like it belonged there.
And then all that disappeared behind the slamming of prison doors, shutting her away from him all over again.
Jaxon lifted his head slowly, his eyes turning hard.
“Looks like,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “I’ve got more than one reason to see Tazzy today.
” Then he asked the question that had kept him awake every night in prison.
“She’s good, right? I mean, no one has messed with her. She’s okay, yeah?”
His brothers exchanged glances that weren’t even close to subtle.
Hutch spoke up first. “She’s still at Books-N-Brew. Georgia, too.”
Gage rubbed the back of his neck. “Brother, you need to brace before you see her. She… she’s changed since the last time you saw her. She’s different now.”
Jaxon blanked his face. What the hell did that mean? She’d changed? It didn’t seem like his brothers were talking about her changing for the better. “I’m pretty sure that is my doing. It’s up to me to make it right.”
Law leaned against the table. “Nobody’s saying it’s your fault. We all get why you did what you did. But something broke in her. She’s not the same girl who used to light up the room.”
Jaxon stared at the scarred wood of the table. He didn’t try to explain what he’d done. There was no point, and it wasn’t theirs to have.
So far, he’d said nothing about the General’s threat the day after his arrest. Or those quiet threats in his holding cell.
The promise that, if Jaxon fought the charges, Tazzy would pay with her life.
He didn’t tell any of them he’d taken the deal…
let them convict him without protest… all to keep her safe.
What was the point? What was done was done.
Eight years of silence had been the price he and Tazzy had both paid. The only difference was that she hadn’t known why she was paying it. He finished the beer in one long pull and stood. “I need to see her.”
Reid nodded once. “Go ahead. We’ll be here when you’re ready. I parked your bike out back.” He tossed Jaxon his keys. “It still runs. Winnie made sure of it.”
God, he’d missed his brothers. Jaxon left without another word.
Fifteen minutes later, he stood outside Books-N-Brews. It looked exactly the same. The brick exterior, black shutters on each side of large, plate-glass windows, the hand-painted sign above the door still read “Books-N-Brews” in curling letters.
The bell jingled when he pushed inside. The smell of fresh coffee and warm sugar hit him hard, just like it always had. For a second, memories of all the good times they shared there flooded through him.
Scanning the room, he spotted Georgia standing behind the counter.
She’d grown up a lot since high school. Back then, all her clothes were pressed, and she barely ever said a word, except to Hutch.
Now her hair was in one of those messy buns, and she was laughing her head off at something on her phone.
She called to another woman, a customer by the looks of her, and waved her closer.
The woman had jet-black hair pulled up into tiny buns on either side of her head, and dangling earrings…
wait, were those skeletons? They were black, just like everything else the woman was wearing.
With a groan, she used the rag she held to wipe the counter on her way to Georgia.
Georgia waved two colorful pamphlets in front of the woman’s face.
A face he still couldn’t see because her back was turned to him.
His ears must be playing tricks on him. He thought he heard words like wingsuit and mountain ridges and vertical freefall.
Did Hutch know she talked about shit like that?
Jaxon looked around the small shop again. The person he needed to see wasn’t there. He moved to the counter, sure that Georgia would know where Tazzy was. They were best friends, or at least, they used to be.
Georgia looked up, her eyes widening. “Jaxon?”
The other woman stiffened before turning to face him. Jaxon’s smile froze on his face. Holy fuck. The woman in black was Tazzy. He made a mental note to tell his brothers that changed wasn’t a strong enough word for what his Little girl had done.
Heavy black eyeliner outlined her eyes. Pale foundation made her skin almost see-through. Dark red lipstick. Her black T-shirt read “Broken Hearts Club Founder” in bold white letters.
The open, sunny girl he remembered, his little sprite, had vanished behind sharp edges. She’d lost weight. And how the hell was she walking around in those three-inch Frankenstein shoes?
Tazzy froze. The color drained from her face. At least, he thought it had, but it was hard to tell with the porcelain makeup she wore.
He forced his voice to stay steady. “Hi, ladies. I’m looking for one of the April Fools’ Specials.” Spouting out the first one he saw, he said, “I’d like the Chunky Monkey Banana Pudding Latte.”
What in all the fires of hell had just come out of his mouth?
Vivi came out of the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. Wearing a cardigan just like he remembered, he felt relieved that at least Vivi hadn’t changed at all. She still looked like everyone in town’s grandmother.
She approached the bar, looking at Jaxon as calm and relaxed, like she’d just seen him the day before instead of eight years ago. “Jaxon, good to see you again.”
Jaxon nodded.
Patting Tazzy’s hand, she said, “I’ll make it, sweet girl.”
Apparently, she still acted like everyone’s grandmother, too. Thank God that hadn’t changed.
Georgia started to move. “That’s okay, Vivi. I’ve got—”
“I can do it,” Tazzy said. Her voice was flat, determined. Like he was any stranger who’d walked in off the street, and she could damn well serve him as well as anyone.
Walking behind the counter, her hands betrayed her.
They shook as she scooped ice into the blender carafe.
She poured in the cold brew concentrate, added the banana syrup, dropped in a generous dollop of banana pudding, and topped it off with a generous splash of whole milk.
She blended it on high until it was thick and smooth, the motor’s roar drowning out any possibility of conversation for a few blessed seconds.
Pouring the pale, creamy mixture into a large plastic cup, she crowned it with a tall swirl of whipped cream and finished with a light dusting of cinnamon and a sprinkle of crushed vanilla wafers for crunch. The April Fools’ Frappe sat there looking innocent, as if nothing had changed.
It was the same care she showed in whatever she did. But it was a different woman doing it.
She slid the cup across the counter. Jaxon reached for it, his eyes still fixated on her black-red lips and the skeletons dancing around her ears. Was she dressed like that as an April Fool's joke?
“Oh, here,” she said with a smile that missed her eyes by a mile. “Let me help you with that.” Lifting his cup, she tipped it, pouring the freezing cold frappe into his lap.