Jaxon #2
My gaze snaps to Kaios, whose annoying grin burns into me. I blink, my mouth parting, but no words come out.
“And that,” he says with deliberate slowness, tucking his phone into his back pocket, “is why I’m the head of security.”
His eyes glint with barely contained arrogance as he plants his hand firmly on the bar. “I’m not some dumb kid anymore, King. Is my temper short? Yeah. But there’s a reason I do the shit I do.”
I stay silent as he continues, leaning in with a voice that's quiet yet sharp. "News flash—in case that asshole drugging her in a busy club wasn't obvious enough," His intense green eyes lock onto mine. "There's more happening here than we know."
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, mostly to myself, my gaze trailing off as my mind churns. “But what?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Kaios replies.
My eyes snap back to his. “Who was that in the video?”
“I ran his prints and facial recognition,” he says, shrugging. “So far, nothing. But the program is still running on my desktop at Verrin. If there’s a hit, I’ll get the alert on my phone.”
“What about the body?”
“It’s taken care of.” He grins crookedly over the rim of his glass, sipping bourbon. “Well—except for his hands. I’ve got special plans for those.”
I don’t ask. I know better than to ask him anything about the sick shit he does, because the fucker will actually tell me in great detail.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Nyx’s voice cuts through the tension as he strides into the room, fastening his belt buckle.
“Well, look who finally made it,” Kaios smirks, pouring a fresh shot of bourbon into a glass and sliding it down the bar toward Nyx.
I catch it mid-slide and knock it back before Nyx can reach it. The harsh burn, ripping against my nerves.
Kaios raises a brow, sparing me the smart remark I know is perched on the tip of his tongue, and slides another bourbon-filled glass down the bar to Nyx, whose mismatched eyes pierce through me like he’s trying to pull answers straight from my chest.
“Everything solid, King?” Nyx asks, his voice a mix of calm and calculation as he takes a slow sip.
I don’t bother lying. My gaze flicks to Kaios. “Show him the video, Mouse.”
I sink back into the booth, letting my head drop against the cushions. The weight of the night, a fist pressing down on my chest.
Moments later, Nyx is standing above me, his mismatched eyes pinning me like he sees the inner workings of my psyche. Without a word, he holds out a bottle of water and ibuprofen.
I don’t deserve it, but I let him drop the pills into my palm. Tossing them back, I chug the water like it's salvation, shoving the bottle cap onto the table harder than necessary before finishing every drop.
Nyx’s tone sharpens. “I’m only going to ask this once—do you plan on telling her what Cavanaugh did to her?”
“The job doesn’t involve interfering in her personal life,” I shoot back, clipped. “If that’s what she’s into...”
Kaios shoves himself onto the booth’s ledge, the spot we always tell patrons not to sit on, looming above me like he’s daring me to continue my feigned indifference. “You know what he said was a fucking lie.”
“Would you sit in a goddamn chair?” I growl, although my frustration isn’t for him.
I’m not ready to unpack last night’s decision, but they’re both waiting—pressing.
Irritation rumbles in my chest. “I don’t know shit, and you don’t either.
We do our job, and we don’t interfere in her personal life, end of discussion. ”
Kaios rolls his eyes while Nyx narrows his—I know they both see right through me.
“So, what the fuck are we doing here then, King?” Kaios fires back, and the truth gnaws at the edges of my composure. “Why all this? Why fast-track her case? Why even take it on pro bono if this shit is not personal?” he says, waving his phone.
I’ve chalked it up to being thorough for a friend, and he’s never bothered to question it, but I know he’s noticed. Nothing gets past him, especially where our tech plans are concerned. Nyx has run the budget, so I know he’s equally aware. But any admission could fuck things up.
It’s too messy. Too dangerous. Naomi’s fiancé has already claimed my family’s Rite—dragging her into this, or even admitting my feelings, puts her directly in the middle of a war that doesn’t belong to her.
One wrong move, and the backlash will tear through her just to get to me and land squarely on my brothers.
“Look.” I let out a heavy breath, my gaze falling away from their scrutiny. “She’s my friend’s baby sister. That’s all.”
Nyx doesn’t miss a beat. “Sounds pretty personal to me.”
His words hit hard, a dose of reality I don’t want to hear. Because he’s always seen right through me, and he knows how I feel about her, even if I didn’t admit it the other night—it’s already personal.
But even the thought of admitting that it is more than light flirtation, a dalliance, means making her a target.
It means giving The Corinthium a reason to come down on us harder than they already are.
Christian, their current golden boy, plans on marrying her—there can be no interference, especially not from the likes of me.
So, I push the thought from my head yet again.
“She’s going to need a ride home, and Cade is unavailable,” I say, harsher than I intend to, sliding out of the booth as I attempt to change the subject. “Between the two of you, figure it out.”
Kaios looks like he’s ready to push back again, but Nyx’s silence is worse—because he knows I’m not saying it all. And I rarely take this tone with him.
He deserves better. He’s the one who kept me alive when The Corinthium moved for my head, taking the fall for me instead.
He could’ve walked away from this a hundred times, but he didn’t. He stayed through every mistake I made, every fucking disaster I caused. He doesn’t need me stirring up any more bullshit.
I should apologize. I should thank him. I should beg his forgiveness for dragging him into the fire with me again. I should tell him he’s one of the only people who can see my truths.
But I don’t. I keep walking, shoving through the bar doors into the blazing California heat.
Why the fuck can’t I just let her go?
The answer circles my mind like a predator—I know no matter how much I want to, I’ll never be free of the hold she has on me. It’s been thirteen years, and still I can’t let go.
I don’t want Naomi dragged into this, especially when it was Max’s wish to keep her out of it. But every instinct in me says she’s already as deep in it as we all are, and every bone in my body yearns to protect her.