Chapter 20
Twenty
DIMITRI
“So, how has my little bro been doing latterly, besides the injury?” Gauge asks as we round the corner back to our apartment building.
“He’s being his special self, you know how he is,” Knox answers.
“Special, yeah,” Gauge laughs it off and I can’t stop the slight twist in my stomach. We all know how Jaxon is, but it just doesn’t feel right if someone outside our… group says it.
“Never know what happened to him to make him so…” Gauge taps his temple once, then motions with his finger in a tight circle, making the universal sign for crazy. “Just be careful with him, you know.”
Careful…? “Why would you say that?” I ask.
“Well, you know what happened to our sister, right?”
The heat in my body fades as I think back.
“She committed suicide,” Knox says before I can form words. “Jax doesn’t talk about it.”
“He was very… protective of her. Our parents tried to get him out of the house more so Daisy would have some space. She was always hiding when he was home. I never figured out why. But I saw he got a new plaything.”
“Careful, Gauge,” I warn. Hope isn’t some plaything.
“Didn’t mean anything by it, man. I was just… she looks like her. That’s all.”
“Looks like her?” Knox asks before I can.
“Yeah, with the black hair and the blue eyes.”
I try to picture Daisy and can’t. She was younger than us, never came around the school, and anything I heard about her was third- or fourth-hand. I knew Jax had a little sister, and I knew she was dead, but nobody ever told the story straight.
Knox shrugs it off. “You’re saying Hope looks like your dead sister?”
Gauge shrugs, but his lips twists. “Just saying, Jax has his obsessions. He can be intense. You guys know that. I thought maybe you should know where it comes from.”
I nod, not because I agree, but because I don’t want to drag out this conversation while Knox is winding up for a fight. “He’s protective. We know.”
“Yeah,” Gauge says, but there’s a challenge there. He wants me to ask more, to dig for something ugly. I don’t give him the satisfaction. I’ve learned from years with my dad—never ask a question you don’t want the answer to.
He drops it, but only for a minute. “You guys ever worry about him? Like, actually worry?”
If I say no, he calls me a liar. If I say yes, I’m giving him what he wants. So, I just look up at the building. “We all have our shit, Gauge. I’m sure Jax will appreciate the care package.”
“Sure,” Gauge says, rolling his eyes. “Just… keep an eye on him, okay?”
The urge to punch his shit face is there, to knock him down a notch, or at least make him stop talking about Jaxon like he’s a loose grenade. But I don’t. I just push through the lobby and up the stairs, hearing Gauge’s footsteps a little behind mine.
“I know how Jax likes things, is all. Or I did. He ever tell you he used to sleepwalk?”
I stare at Gauge, at his face, the perfect copy of Jax right down to the smirk but with none of the kindness underneath. “He never mentioned it,” I say, though I remember too well the nights Jax would wake up screaming.
“Anyway,” Gauge says, “I got a tip about Coach.”
I freeze. So does Knox.
Gauge grins, slow and wide. “A guy I know in the police said they’re getting close. They found tire tracks up on the ridge, the old cabin road. Odd, isn’t it, how no one’s seen Coach, but all these little clues keep popping up?”
I shrug. “Cops always say shit like that to rattle people.”
“Yeah,” Knox agrees, but he’s chewing his cheek. “Waste of time.”
Gauge licks his teeth. “Maybe. Or maybe someone knows more than they’re saying.”
He lets that hang there. For a moment, I want to tell this fucker to go shove his “maybe” straight up his ass. But instead, I just muster a smile and unlock our apartment door.
I meet Jaxon’s eyes the second I step in. Jaxon’s standing at the kitchen island, not moving a muscle except for the flicker in his jaw and the way his thumb keeps circling the corner of Hope’s phone.
Knox and Gauge follow behind me and Jaxon quickly slides the phone into his pocket.
I raise an eyebrow at Jax and he shrugs as if nothing is bothering him. Liar.
Gauge stares him down, a little too pleased with himself. I hate that they look so alike, every line of their faces the same, the way they move just a hair too tight, like they’re both ready to throw the first punch if someone so much as blinks at them wrong.
“It was nice to see you, brother. Now, if you don’t mind,” Jaxon starts and nods towards the door.
Gauge throws his hands up in surrender. “Come on, bro. I haven’t even talked to you yet.”
“Not interested,” Jaxon mumbles. “Leave. Now.”
Gauge leans across the island, too close, but that’s his move; he wants everyone off balance. “Dimi, you still letting him call the shots, or have you grown some balls since high school?”
Stupid fucking nickname. I roll my eyes and stand beside Jaxon. “I’m not getting in this mess,” I mutter.
Gauge shrugs. “Remember what I said about Jax’s history of getting a little… unhinged. Especially when it comes to things that aren’t his.”
Jaxon bares his teeth in something like a smile. “You want to say something, say it.”
Gauge lifts his chin, eyes sharp. “Just that you always did have a thing for broken things, bro. You got obsessed, and then when things didn’t go your way, you—”
Jaxon moves before I even register it, slamming Gauge back into the fridge with a bang.
“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Jaxon spits and I’m already moving. My hand closes around Jaxon’s arm as I try to rip him off his brother.
The bedroom door creaks behind me. “Jax?” Hope’s voice is small and full of sleep.
I loosen my grip, but not all the way, and flick my eyes to her as she steps closer. She’s wearing Jaxon’s jersey and nothing else, hair a fucking riot, with a flush on her cheeks.
“Wow, little brother. You don’t waste time, do you?” Gauge’s eyes flick up and down Hope, and he grins in this way that curdles my blood.
Did they…?
Hope’s face goes from confusion to crimson in about two seconds. She tugs the shirt down, crossing her arms. “Get out of our house, Gauge,” she snaps, voice steadier than I’d expect.
Gauge smirks, pushing Jaxon off with a practiced twist. “Feisty.”
Jax’s knuckles turn white as his grip on Gauge’s collar tightens, but his voice is calm. “You don’t know anything about it. About her. About me.”
Gauge doesn’t move and seems unbothered about having his little brother in his face.
He’s not here for a fight. He’s here to get under our skin, and he’s doing a damn good job.
“Alright, alright. But you should probably let your girl know what kind of crazy shit is going on with the cops. They’re going to find Coach, you know.
Cops always do. They dig up everything.”
Hope’s eyes narrow, the shift in her instant. “There’s nothing to dig up. I have no clue where my father is. Let him leave, Jax.”
Jaxon huffs, releases his hold, and takes a step back from his brother.
Gauge almost looks delighted. “I wonder who here has the most to hide.”
Knox sighs. “Enough. You delivered your message, now fuck off, Gauge.”
Gauge gives me a long, appraising look as he stalks to the front door, then gives me a little mock-salute. “Nice seeing you, Dimi. Say hello to your father for me.”
He doesn’t break his stare as he leaves, and the silence that follows is thick—too thick.
“What the fuck was that all about?” I spit out without a second thought.
Hope glances up at me, and there’s something like an apology in her eyes.
I want to tell her not to bother, that I don’t need her to explain or justify or even care about my shit.
I want to be the guy who shrugs it off, who can take it and move on, but I’m not.
I’m the guy who wanted her first and lost her to the only person more broken than I am.
I don’t know what to do with that feeling, except let it rot.
Hope pads over to me on bare feet, arms hugging herself tight. “Are you…” She trails off, words running out before she even starts. She smells like Jax and I can’t look at her.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I turn away from her, wanting to find something to do with my hands, but the kitchen is too clean.
“Dimitri,” she starts and I hold up my hand.
“Please, not now, Hope.” I hate this side of me, but I can’t help it. I just somehow… can’t.
Knox clears his throat. “That was a lot.”
“It always is,” Jaxon grumbles.
“He said the cops are getting close. To the cabin,” Hope says.
“He’s just trying to scare us,” I say, but my voice cracks on the last word.