Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kira
Rubble.
Rubble?!
My jaw hangs open as I practically crawl out of Jax’s car in front of what was once my home.
My home. My home that I’ve painstakingly been making the mortgage payments on for the last ten years.
My home that is just a pile of charred remains now, my brain trying to place walls where there aren’t any.
“No,” I whisper and grip my stomach.
The moon tapestries, Nix’s wind chimes, the Victorian-era settee I snagged for twenty-five dollars from the thrift store that had torn upholstery but was still the most luxurious thing we had.
My lava lamp from high school. The collection of fleece blankets that lined the couch.
The lopsided bookshelf Nix and I pulled out of the trash, the one we spent three nights painting with intricate stars when she was twelve.
The last pictures of our mom.
It’s all gone. There’s barely a stud left standing.
“What… what happened?!” I spin on the sidewalk to gape at Nix. She just climbed out of Caleb’s car after following me and Jax from the hospital with him.
“It’s not that bad,” she says but avoids my eyes, hiding behind her long black hair as she closes the door.
“Not that bad?!” I cry and fling my hands out at the empty space where a house should be.
Is she insane? Our home is in literal ashes. The roof that keeps us warm and dry, the beds and pillows where we rest our heads, it’s fucking gone. Where are we supposed to go? Where do we shower and eat and sleep? What in the fuck?!
My mind can’t make sense of the fact that I’ve only been gone a week and the whole house is burned down.
That it’s cold and dead and done and that I’m the only one freaking out.
There’s no smoke, no embers, no fire trucks, or police.
It doesn’t make any sense. This had to have happened days ago. Days.
And no one told me.
I stagger up the trampled lawn, scrambling toward what’s left of the house I grew up in. I grab at the first piece of burnt wood at my feet, feeling for heat.
There is none.
I throw it down, my hand coming away black, and reach for another.
Cold.
Crumbling.
I teeter farther into the wreckage, crunching debris as I clutch at anything I can, trying to find something hot, something salvageable, something that will jolt me from this nightmare.
But everything is ruined and cold.
Tears pour from my eyes, and I clutch at my chest, smearing my shirt with soot. Please, no. I spin in a circle. This can’t have happened. How did this happen? Was it electrical? Something I didn’t get repaired? Was it my fault? Did Nix leave a burner on? How? How? How?!
I turn and look out at the street, a view that shouldn’t be possible based on where I’m standing, and blink back the tears.
Nix, Caleb, and Jax stand by the cars in an uncomfortable cluster.
Caleb has his hands buried in his pockets, shoulders up to his ears, while Nix nibbles on a nail and quickly looks at the ground when I try to catch her eyes.
Jax, though… Jax holds my gaze. Dark eyes lined with resignation… jaw locked… remember that tomorrow.
It tells me everything I need to know.
“You!” I stomp out of the remains. “You did this!”
I knew it. I knew I couldn’t trust him. The images of his hard chest against mine last night make me absolutely seethe.
“Try to stay calm,” he says, putting up his hands in defense. “You just got out of the—”
I slam my palms against that hard chest—the one that had no right to be anywhere near me last night when he knew what he had done. How could he? How could he tell me he would handle everything and then burn my fucking house down and fuck me while the embers cooled?
“You twisted, pyromaniac bastard!” I yell and push him again, backing him into his car.
I know it shouldn’t be this easy to move him, that he’s letting me, and that somehow makes me angrier.
Does he think my wrath is so pitiful that he can get away with it?
Is my fury just a tantrum to him? Is that why he did it, because he thinks I’m not a force to be reckoned with?
And what was he thinking when he opened the car door for me at the hospital, loaded me into his passenger seat, and latched my seat belt for me?
That it would be a fun surprise to find my house gone?
“Do you get some sort of sick kick out of this?” I scream. “Why did you even bring me here? To watch me fall apart? You make sure I get all this special treatment at the hospital so I’m all better just to tear me down?”
“He thought it would be better if you saw for yourself,” Caleb mumbles from the safe distance he’s taken.
“What?” I snap.
“He thought it would be—”
“I heard you!” I screech, and he flinches.
“And you,” I turn on Nix. “What did you think? Did you think I needed to see this for myself, or do you think my fucking sister should have told me?”
“You needed to rest! And I knew you were going to be mad,” she says with the sort of indignance that makes my blood boil.
“Who wouldn’t be mad?!” I spit. “Why aren’t you mad? It was our house, Nicole. Our house! Everything we had to our name. Why the fuck would you be okay with him burning it down?”
“Because we didn’t have a choice!” She stomps her boot, the indignance turning into a plea.
“They were going to issue a warrant. You think I wanted this? I didn’t want any of this.
I didn’t want to kill someone. I didn’t want Marshal to touch me.
I didn’t want to make your life any harder than I already have. But this was the only way—”
“Only way!? We’re homeless! I was gone for one week. One! And you let—”
“It’s not her fault,” Jax cuts me off, putting a hand on my arm as if I don’t already see the tears welling in my sister’s eyes. But he doesn’t get to speak. He doesn’t get to say a single fucking thing. And he sure as fuck doesn’t get to touch me like we’re ever going to be intimate again.
I whirl around, shaking him off as if his touch is poison. “I know damn well whose fault this is.” I look him square in his deceptively handsome eyes, hating that I fell for them. “Mine! For ever letting you into our lives.”
Something like hurt flickers across his features, but he doesn’t get to be hurt, not after what he’s done. I mean, where has Nix been sleeping this week?
“Well, it’s too late now,” he growls, clearly wounded, “so, get in the car.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get. In. The. Car.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I scoff and run a hand through my hair. Jesus, he really is insane.
“What, are you going to stay here? Sleep under a toasty two by four?” He has the audacity for his lip to twitch before looking away, and I could kill him. I really could.
“Go on, guys.” He motions toward Nix and Caleb. “We’ll meet you there.”
“No!” I grab Nix’s hand and yank her toward me. “We’re done with you and—” I wince, hating to include Caleb, but how could Nix continue to see him when Jax is his brother? I don’t see any world in which that works out, “and you,” I say to Caleb, avoiding his eyes.
“You don’t speak for me,” Nix rips her hand from mine at the same time Jax sighs.
What in the fuck?! “Yes, I do! And we have to find somewhere to go.”
Though I don’t know how we’re going to do that.
We have no car, no money, and no family.
The irony is that if Marshal were alive, I would have called him—completely oblivious to his perverted ways.
But he’s dead, and the only thing I can think of is to go to Bell’s.
There’s a back room, and maybe we can stay there if we keep it on the down low, at least until I make some tips.
Then we can get a motel and then… I don’t know…
Tears involuntarily spring to my eyes.
We’re so, so fucked.
“Kira…” Jax’s voice softens.
“Don’t.” I swat at the air, afraid I might crumble. The anger is evaporating, leaving only fear and despair in its place. “This is your fault.”
“I thought you just said it was your fault?”
I slowly look up to find him grinning. Actually grinning.
The glare I give him could melt glaciers.
He sighs. “I’m going to have to get on my knees, aren’t I?”
“How about you go fuck yourself.”
“What if it’s between your legs?”
Caleb makes a choking sound behind his hand, and I blink, stunned as embarrassment heats my cheeks.
“Are—are you serious right now?”
“You seemed to like it last night,” he challenges.
“Ew!” Nix squeals, grabbing Caleb’s sleeve and tugging him toward his car.
“Wait,” I call after her, sparing a glare at Jax. “Look what you’ve done,” I hiss at him.
“Right,” he sighs. “I underestimated how stubborn you are.”
“You sure fucking did, buddy.” I make to follow Nix, intending to yank her back by the hair before she can slip into Caleb’s car, but I’m suddenly lifted off my feet.
“Hey—” I try, but Jax slings me over his shoulder, clamping a taut bicep around the back of my thighs.
“For the record,” he drawls, turning us toward his car as the blood rushes to my head, “I’m not really a fan of buddy. I think I’d prefer something more affectionate.”
“How about jackass?” I pound my fists onto his back, trying to wriggle free as my hair gets caught in my mouth.
“Ehh,” he gives an unfazed hum, leaning down to open the door. “I was thinking something more like honey or dear. I mean, we are going to be living together.”
“I’m not living with you!” I snarl as he plants me in the passenger seat.
“Or maybe something like darling.” He braces his palms on the hood, caging me in. “Or is that too old school?” He shakes his head, grabbing the seat belt and dipping in to reach over me.
“Fuck you,” I say into his ear.
“Right now?” He raises his brows and then glances out the windshield. “I don’t know. I’m not one for an audience. Let’s wait till we get home, darling.”
He pauses over me, brows knitting, and then clicks his tongue. “No. I don’t like it. I’m going to stick with buttercup.”
“I’ll stick with jackass.”
His jaw ticks. “Fine, then.” He takes a deep inhale through his nose. “But you’re still coming home with me.” He then locks the seat belt.