Chapter 25 – Jaxon
The familiar hum of the bass greeted us as we stepped into V. The club had its own rhythm, a steady pulse I’d learned to anticipate. This place wasn’t just work—it was control, order, a space where I knew how to handle anything that came my way.
Madeline walked beside me, her presence a contrast to the chaos. Even in jeans and a simple top, she turned heads, but she didn’t seem to notice — or care. She was talking about something, her voice light and casual, though I caught the edge of nerves she tried to mask. Coming here had become our thing, a routine of sorts. I’d work, and she’d hang out at the bar with her friends. It wasn’t exactly as safe as I would prefer, but it felt... normal.
As we made our way through the lounge, I saw him. Sean. He stood near the bar, nursing a drink like he didn’t have a care in the world. He noticed us almost immediately, his sharp eyes flicking to Madeline before settling on me.
“Brooks,” he greeted, his voice smooth, casual, like we hadn’t just locked horns over his behaviour.
“Weston.” I nodded, keeping my tone even.
Madeline’s posture shifted beside me. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel the tension radiating off her. Her smile was polite, but I knew better.
She was wary.
Sean’s attention lingered on her for a second too long. “Madeline,” he said with a small smile, tipping his glass slightly. “Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise,” she replied, her voice tight.
The conversation was pleasant enough — surface-level and forgettable — but I could feel the weight of it. Madeline’s hand brushed mine, just for a second, but it was enough to ground me.
Sean’s eyes flicked downward, catching the brief touch of her hand against mine. His lips quirked in a subtle smirk, one eyebrow lifting in mild surprise. The look wasn’t overt, but it spoke volumes — curiosity, maybe even amusement, like he’d just stumbled onto something he wasn’t supposed to see.
I held his gaze, my jaw tightening just enough to send a silent message: Don’t .
He didn’t say anything, just took another sip of his drink and gave me a knowing nod before stepping away, disappearing into the crowd like a shadow.
Before I could process the irritation tightening my chest, a high-pitched squeal rang out behind us, cutting through the music and conversation like a whip.
“Finally!”
I turned just in time to see Quinn Carson bounding toward us with a wide grin and a lot of energy. Leah West followed closely behind, looking a little embarrassed but clearly amused.
“You two!” Quinn’s squeal practically shook the walls, her energy crashing into us like an overexcited puppy. “This is the moment!”
Madeline turned, wide-eyed. “What moment?”
“The moment the entire universe has been building toward,” Quinn declared, gesturing wildly between us. “You two, together, in public, hand-touching and everything! Do you even know what this means ?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“It means,” Quinn said, pausing dramatically and lowering her voice like she was about to share state secrets, “I called it . And now I’m vindicated. The ship has sailed, people. You’re basically endgame.”
Madeline choked out a laugh. “Endgame?”
“Yes!” Quinn threw her hands up like we were missing the obvious. “Look at you, standing all close and cozy. This is practically a rom-com montage. I mean, if there were fairy lights and some slow-motion music, it’d be over for everyone.”
“Quinn, you’re going to hyperventilate,” Leah said as she arrived, slipping between Quinn and us with the calm precision of someone used to this level of chaos.
“I’m fine ,” Quinn shot back, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve just been waiting for this moment since Maddie barrelled into our lives, and now that it’s here, I’m allowed to be dramatic.”
Madeline pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a laugh. “Is she always like this?”
“She has settings,” I said dryly. “This is just her maximum volume mode.”
“I heard that!” Quinn called out, pointing at me. “And for the record, you better not screw this up, Jaxon. My hopes and dreams are riding on you two being adorable.”
Leah grabbed Quinn’s arm, steering her toward the bar like a mom corralling a toddler. “You’re done now. Come on.”
As they disappeared into the crowd, Quinn still waving enthusiastically over her shoulder, Madeline let out a laugh — a real, uninhibited laugh that lit up her whole face.
“She’s relentless,” she said, shaking her head.
“She’s… Quinn.” I replied with a smirk.
Madeline turned to me, still smiling, her eyes sparkling in a way that made everything else fade out for a moment. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means there’s no off-switch,” I said, deadpan. “You just have to ride it out and hope for the best.”
She laughed again, softer this time, the sound pulling something loose in my chest. “Well, I like her,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “She’s ridiculous, but in a good way. Like the kind of insanity you don’t mind having around.”
“That’s an optimistic take,” I said, leaning casually against the bar. “Give her a week, and she’ll be picking wedding venues for us.”
Madeline snorted. “Oh, no. If that happens, you’re on your own. I’ll deny everything and flee the country.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Flee the country?”
“Yes,” she said with mock seriousness. “I’ll get a fake passport, dye my hair, and start a new life somewhere far away. Maybe Fiji. Quinn will never find me there.”
“Bold of you to assume Quinn doesn’t have an international tracking system.”
Madeline grinned, bumping my shoulder lightly with hers. “You’re ridiculous too, you know.”
“I try.”
Her hand brushed against mine again, and this time, neither of us pulled away. The warmth of her fingers lingered, grounding me in the moment.
Before I could say anything else, one of the bartenders called my name, gesturing toward the lounge. “Jaxon, we’ve got a situation in VIP.”
I sighed, the moment slipping away as duty pulled me back. “Stay here?” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Madeline rolled her eyes but nodded. “I’ll be right here. Go save the day, Superman.”
The tension in the VIP lounge hit me the second I stepped inside. The usually sleek, polished space felt volatile, like a storm about to break. Sean stood near the centre, his posture loose but his eyes sharp — too sharp for someone who was supposed to be blending in.
Across from him was one of our high rollers, a guy named Vincent Calloway, known for his big bets and even bigger ego.
The overturned cocktail table and shattered glass weren’t a good sign. One of the servers hovered near the edge of the room, her eyes wide with nerves as she clutched her tray.
“Jaxon!” One of the bouncers waved me over, his face tight with unease. “It’s escalating.”
Sean’s voice cut through the low hum of music and murmurs. “You gonna run your mouth all night, or are you actually gonna back it up?”
Calloway, his face flushed with booze and irritation, jabbed a finger toward Sean. “You think you can waltz in here and start throwing your weight around? I spend more in one night here than you probably make in a year.”
Sean smirked, leaning in just enough to make Calloway bristle. “That supposed to impress me? You throw money at the table and hope it makes up for your lousy hand. How’s that working out for you tonight?”
I stepped in before it could spiral any further, putting myself between them. “That’s enough,” I said, my voice cutting through the rising tension.
Sean didn’t back down, but his eyes flicked to me, his smirk turning into something cooler, more calculated. “Jax,” he drawled, as if we were old friends. “Glad you could join us.”
“Sean,” I said evenly, my gaze locking on his. “You mind explaining why I just walked into this mess?”
Calloway jumped in before Sean could answer. “This guy,” he spat, “thinks he can mouth off to me like I’m some nobody.”
Sean shrugged, looking completely unbothered. “I was just pointing out a few facts. Didn’t realize your ego was so fragile.”
Calloway lunged, but I caught him by the arm, shoving him back firmly. “I said, that’s enough.”
“Do you know who I am?” Calloway barked at me, his face red with indignation.
“I know exactly who you are,” I said sharply. “And I also know you don’t want to be the guy who gets escorted out of here for starting a fight in VIP. So, take a breath and cool off.”
Calloway stared at me, his jaw tight, but after a beat, he stepped back, straightening his jacket. “This isn’t over, Weston. We will be having words.” he muttered, shooting a glare at Sean before storming off toward the bar.
That left me with Sean, who was now casually picking up his drink from the edge of a nearby table, looking like he’d just won a prize.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked, my voice low.
Sean took a sip, his expression annoyingly smug. “Just a little misunderstanding. The guy can’t take a joke, apparently.”
“Sean, you keep pushing the wrong buttons, and it’s going to come back on you.”
His smirk widened. “Is that a threat, Jax? Or are you just worried your boss won’t like me ruffling feathers?”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “Consider it a warning. If you’re looking for trouble, don’t think for a second I won’t shut it down.”
Sean tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he drained the rest of his drink and set the glass down with deliberate precision.
“Noted,” he said finally, his tone light but his gaze holding something sharper. “Guess I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
He walked off, leaving me standing there with my gut telling me he wouldn’t be.
Sean’s smirk lingered in my mind, dredging up memories I’d buried deep. We’d been through hell together in the military — missions that felt like they’d never end, situations no one should have survived. Back then, Sean had been solid. Reliable.
I remembered the nights in the desert, the relentless heat, the deafening silence between explosions. Sean had been by my side through it all, cracking jokes when things got too heavy, keeping me grounded when I felt like I’d drown in the sadness and trauma of it all.
When we made it back stateside, I’d thought I owed him — thought I had to pay it forward for everything we’d endured together.
And now...
Instances like tonight weren’t new. They were just becoming harder to ignore.
Madeline had seen it almost immediately. She was wary of him from the start, always watching him with this quiet suspicion that made me defensive at first.
I’d told her she was overthinking it, that Sean was rough around the edges but not a bad guy.
Sean wasn’t just making mistakes or having bad days. There was a pattern here.
The memory of Sean’s smirk when he saw her hand brush mine earlier burned in my mind. That flicker of something in his eyes — it wasn’t just amusement or curiosity. It was sharper than that.
Calculating.
He’d seen something he thought he could use.
Sean had always been like an annoying little brother — the kind who pushed boundaries, made bad jokes at the worst times, but ultimately had your back when it counted.
He’d mouth off to the wrong people, land himself in hot water, and I’d have to bail him out, gritting my teeth the whole time. But it was fine, back in those days in the field.
Because back then, I knew where his heart was.
Now, it felt different. Over the past few months, the easy camaraderie we’d shared had been replaced by tension I couldn’t quite define.
There was something sharper behind it now. A sense of entitlement, maybe. Or desperation. I wasn’t sure, and that’s what made it worse.
“Jax!” One of the bartenders called from across the lounge, pulling me out of my thoughts. She gave me a small wave, nodding toward the commotion in the corner where Sean had been moments before.
My jaw tightened as I walked over, scanning the scene to make sure everything was under control. The high roller, Calloway, was back in his seat, holding court like nothing had happened. His entourage laughed at whatever bullshit story he was telling, the kind of forced laughter people gave when they wanted to stay in someone’s good graces.
Calloway casually swirled a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the low light. Top-shelf shit—the kind we didn’t pour for just anyone. It was probably on the house, too. That was how it worked with guys like him.
Big spenders got the royal treatment, the staff bending over backward to keep them happy. It wasn’t their fault; that’s just the way the game was played.
But watching him now, smug and comfortable after nearly turning the lounge into a boxing ring, rubbed me the wrong way.
Guys like Calloway thought their money made them untouchable. In most places, they’d probably be right.
“Jaxon,” the barmaid said, her voice low enough to keep the other guests from overhearing. Her name hovered frustratingly just out of reach in my memory, but I didn’t have time to chase it down. “Thought you should know — Sean’s gone.”
I frowned. “Gone?”
She nodded, glancing toward the door. “He barged out of here a few minutes ago. Looked pissed. Said something about being done for the night and stormed off.”
The bartender hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Also, I got a message for you — from Declan. Said to tell you he wants to see you in his office whenever you’ve got a free moment.”
That caught my attention. Declan Frost didn’t summon people lightly. If he wanted to see me, it wasn’t for small talk.
I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll head up there now.”
She gave me a small nod and started to turn away but paused. “For what it’s worth, Jaxon... Sean’s not worth the headache. You’ve done more than enough for him.”
Her words hung in the air as she walked back to the bar, leaving me standing there with a tangle of thoughts I didn’t have time to sort through.
Declan’s office. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it probably wasn’t good news. And after tonight, I wasn’t sure how much more bad news I could take.
I glanced toward the bar one last time, scanning for Madeline.
She was still there, laughing with Quinn, completely unaware of the storm brewing in my head. For now, at least.
With a steadying breath, I turned toward the stairs and started making my way up to Declan’s office.