Chapter Eleven
Jax
T he car rattled beneath me as Adrian and I cruised through the city streets, the SUV uncomfortable and shitty. The night air rushed through the cracked window, carrying her remaining citrusy scent that still clung to my skin.
I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face, slow and satisfied like a predator after the hunt, even when Adrian’s honking antics pissed me off a second ago.
“That,” I said, flexing my supposedly injured wrist, “was fucking perfect.”
Adrian barked out a laugh, the sound filling the car's cramped interior. “I wish I’d videoed when I nearly ran you over.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, messing up the careful dishevelment I'd crafted for my role as injured victim. “The concern in those pretty eyes was worth it.”
“And the way she rushed over to help,” Adrian added, making a dramatic swooning gesture. “Your little nurse, huh?”
I leaned back in the passenger seat, replaying every moment of the evening in my mind: her gentleness cleaning my scrapes, how careful her small hands were, how she smelled up close when she leaned in to wrap my wrist.
The memory sent heat coursing through me, a hunger I’d felt the entire time I was near her this evening.
I shifted, reaching behind my waistband to pull out my silver gun and placed it on my lap, perfectly hiding the raging hard-on I’d been sporting for the past few hours.
“Nice,” Adrian mocked, clearly catching on to both my problem and the gun. I ignored him.
“She invited me into her home,” I reflected, my voice dropping lower. “Patched me up. Let me feed her. All because she thought I got hurt trying to do something nice.”
Adrian shot me a sideways glance, his green eyes glinting with mischief in the dashboard light. “Asking her out for coffee was an option, too.”
I laughed, the sound dark. “Where's the fun in that? Besides, she would've said no. She's...” I trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Complicated?” he offered.
“Mine,” I corrected. It was true. From the moment I'd seen her in that classroom, something had clicked into place, a recognition, a certainty. She was meant to be mine, and I'd do anything to make it happen.
Adrian whistled low. “Damn. You’ve never been worked up over a woman.”
I didn't bother denying it. Adrian knew me too well. He’d seen me cycle through countless women without a second thought. But Estelle was different. She looked at me, not with awe or desire but with caution, like I was something she couldn’t decide on.
It drove me fucking crazy. I wanted to break through that wall, to see what was under all that careful control.
“You should've seen her apartment.” My jaw tightened at the memory. “That fucking building should be condemned. Locks that wouldn't keep out a determined teenager. Security cameras held together with hopes and dreams.”
My fingers curled into a fist at the thought of having to leave her there.
Adrian's expression sobered slightly. “So what's the plan? Buy the building? Have it mysteriously burn down so they have to relocate to your beach house?”
I shot him a look. “Don't tempt me.”
As we sat in a comfortable quiet, the memory of our earlier argument flashed through my mind, drawing a dark chuckle from my throat.
“What's so funny?” Adrian asked, taking a sharp turn that sent us both sliding across the shitty cloth seats.
“Just thinking about how hard I had to convince your ass to help me with this.”
He groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh god, I thought you were fucking with me.”
The scene played out in my head like a movie, the two of us in my garage, Adrian looking at me like I'd lost my mind when I laid out my plan:
“Fucking run me over,” I demanded seriously. “I want it to look real.”
“No way,” Adrian shot back, green eyes wide. “I'm not killing you.”
“You're a fucking coward,” I sneered, leaning back against my Bentley. “Fine. I'll do it myself.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Adrian had exploded, throwing his arms up. “You want me to hit you with a car, a CAR, Jax, so the girl will take care of your boo-boos?”
I stared at him, unmoved. “It's a brilliant plan.”
“Daddy Easton will kill me!” He paced the garage, muttering under his breath. “I’d love to hit someone else. Anyone else. But actually hitting you with a car? No fucking way.”
I grinned, twisting his words. “So you'll do it, just won’t tell Dad?”
“Fuck,” Adrian muttered, rubbing his temples. “The shit I do for you people. Fine. But I'm barely going to touch you with the bumper. The tiniest of love taps. Then you better give a performance worthy of a fucking Oscar.”
“Deal,” I agreed, already planning my dramatic sprawl on the pavement.
“And if you die, I'm getting your beach house and I’m making it Toffee’s new playhouse.”
“Fair enough.”
Now, as we drove through the darkened streets, that same manic energy coursed through me. The plan had worked perfectly, better than I could have hoped. I'd seen inside her world and gotten a glimpse of what made Estelle tick.
And more importantly, I'd planted the seed. She let me in once, and she'd do it again.
“You know,” Adrian said, breaking into my thoughts, “Connor's gonna be mad he missed this. He would’ve loved to see you get hit.”
I snorted, remembering how he almost beat the shit out of me for sneaking up on Sierra. He probably would have tried to kill me if I’d asked him instead of Adrian.
“So what's next in this master plan of yours? Because if it involves me driving into you again, I’m out.”
I grinned, the ideas already forming in my mind. “Now I become her hero.”
“Pretty heroic, the way you were a victim of a fucking hit and run.”
I rolled my eyes. “That was just the opening move. Now I need to make myself indispensable. Find out what she needs, what she wants.”
My voice dropped lower, a possessive edge creeping in. “And then I give it to her. All of it.”
Adrian was quiet for a moment, then he glanced at me. “So we’re burning down the complex?” He sounded excited, his eyes gleaming.
“No,” I muttered, my mind already racing ahead to the next step, the next move in this chess game I was playing with the woman who didn't even know we were playing.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see a text from Connor fucking Graves:
Connor
Adrian should’ve paralyzed you.
I scoffed, reading it out loud to Adrian.
Jax
Fucking good day to you too. No ‘how did plan get your girl go?’
He was typing for a few minutes, clearly conflicted.
Connor
how was plan get your girl.
Adrian read it next to me, grinning. “Tell him she cleaned your boo-boos.”
I definitely wasn’t going to tell him that, but my phone was yanked from my hands, and I looked up to see Adrian steering the wheel with his fucking knees.
Jax (Adrian)
SHE CLEANED HIS BOO-BOOS!
I snatched my phone back from Adrian, smacking him with the device.
Connor
Seriously…?
Jax
She’s falling for me. Seriously.
Her hands were very gentle.
Adrian snorted beside me.
Connor
I don't want details about your weird nurse fantasy .
Adrian cackled. "Tell him we absolutely want details."
Jax
Adrian says you want details.
Connor
Adrian can go fuck himself.
“Fucking Batman,” Adrian groaned. "Tell him I'm hurt by his lack of support."
Jax
Adrian's hurt by your lack of support for our vehicular endeavors.
Connor
Then he shouldn't have helped you stage a vehicular assault.
A few minutes passed, then one last message came from him.
Connor
I’ll be at the wedding. Or funeral. Whatever it ends up being.
We pulled into the garage of my beach house, the car looking absurdly out of place among my collection of luxury vehicles, and I felt that familiar rush of anticipation. The hunt was on, and I'd never wanted anything or anyone the way I wanted Estelle Moore.
I paused before climbing out, the memory of Estelle's apartment, tiny, worn, but immaculately clean, flashing through my mind.
She'd moved through that small space, efficient and graceful, cooking dinner for Leo, checking the locks, keeping her voice steady even when I could see the exhaustion weighing her down.
My princess was trying so hard to be strong.
“She's beautiful,” I said abruptly, the words slipping out in time with my brain. “Not just pretty. Beautiful.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. “I know, man. I may or may not have watched her come to your rescue in an alley.”
Adrian had a way of ending up in the middle of everything, especially regarding his brothers’ new obsessions.
“Did you get to pull her into your lap and feed her chocolates?” Adrian asked, his tone only half joking.
“No,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes. The truth was, I'd wanted to do a lot more than that.
I'd wanted to scoop her up, carry her to bed, tuck her in, and hold her while she slept. I'd wanted to get her out of that apartment, that life, and bring her to my world.
Adrian clapped a hand on my shoulder, his expression suddenly serious. “Just be careful, Jax. I know you think you've figured this out, but she's not another model opening her legs for you. She's got a kid depending on her. She's got real problems.”
“I'm careful,” I cut him off, my voice hard. “This isn't a game. Not to me.”
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright then. I'm with you. Just don't expect me to hit you with any more cars.”
I grinned, the tension breaking. “Not even a little love tap?”
“Not even if you stock my warehouse.” He shoved me toward the door. “Now come on. I need a shower and about fifteen beers to wash away the memory of you sprawled on that dirty street.”
I chuckled, making my way through the garage. “You're just jealous because I got to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman while you were driving around in circles.”
“Trust me,” Adrian scoffed, shouldering through the door, “I can find my own women without resorting to vehicular assault.”
As we entered the house, the familiar luxury of marble floors and glass walls surrounded me. But all I felt was upset.
All I could think of was Estelle in her apartment, probably still upgrading papers, pushing herself to exhaustion for her nephew. My princess, trying to carry the world on those slim shoulders .
Soon, I promised myself. Soon she'd learn what it felt like to be taken care of, to be cherished, to be mine.