43. Jax
Jax
The absolute audacity of this fucker.
I stare at Gray, his impassive, emotionless face nothing like the man I thought I knew. I haven’t seen this level of indifference and stillness from him since I walked into the conference room all those weeks ago.
He looks as if he couldn't care less where he is, what he’s doing, or who he’s with. My brother lies on the floor, prostrate, as another man flips a coin for my freedom.
It spins, twisting in the air high above our heads, then clinks onto the floor.
Monroe and Gray both lean over it as my heart begins to pound in my chest.
“Tails,” Monroe says, looking back at me. “Only one more of those, and you’re mine, sweetness.”
I’ll fucking kill you if you try, you piece of shit.
“Gray,” Flynn’s voice is broken and hoarse. “Don’t,” he manages to get out before one of the guards puts an arm against his neck.
“Why don’t you flip the next one?” Gray says cooly as Monroe stoops and retrieves the coin.
“You always liked the simple bets,” Monroe murmurs with a smirk.
Gray says nothing as the coin is thrown again.
I watch the arc of it, feeling numb. It has less finesse than Gray’s throw, spinning and zipping through the air at an odd angle, flipping in place as it lands just beside Flynn’s head.
My brother’s jaw clenches as he looks up at me, and I feel as if my whole body is melting into the ground beneath me.
“Heads,” Monroe says, looking down at Flynn. “You do know how ruthless this motherfucker is, right? He may be helping you right now, but you’re in his debt for life. Once he has a hold, he won’t let go. Are you sure that’s better than just letting me fuck your sister?”
Flynn lurches back as the guards effortlessly restrain him, and I close my eyes, nausea rising.
“One more,” Nick says as Gray retrieves the coin. “I’m beginning to wonder if her ass is even worth a hundred grand,” he says conversationally. “But then, that’s child's play to you, right, Gray? Let’s make it an even half million, shall we?”
I look up at Gray in horror, ice filling my body.
Gray doesn’t even look as if he cares, flipping the coin casually over his fingers as if they’re splitting chips at a casino.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” he says to Monroe, his tone almost friendly. “But if I’m going to put half a million dollars down for this family, I do want to know that they’re all still alive. Would you bring the other brothers out? I don’t want to discover there are pieces missing.”
Monroe snickers and waves vaguely, while two men at the back of the room disappear. We stand in awkward silence together, the sound of Flynn’s labored breathing cutting through the air. I wish the ground would open up beneath me, that the abyss would swallow me whole.
A few minutes later, there are scuffling footsteps, and I let out an involuntary cry of delight as Seb, Ben, and Scott are pulled from a side door and into the room. They’re battered and bruised but alive.
“All present and accounted for,” Monroe says. “Now, shall we get back to the business of the day?”
Seb, Ben, and Scott all stare at me in confusion as Gray nods. He pushes the coin over his palm with his thumb toward the ends of his fingers, and I wait for him to look at me, to have the balls to face his coldhearted choices head-on. But he doesn’t, keeping his eyes on the coin.
My heart is in my mouth as it flies upward, and everyone in the room watches it spin.
For a long time, it’s as if it’s suspended in midair above us like a shining star, shimmering in the light, and at the last second, Gray’s eyes find mine. Cold, calculating, and laser-focused on me.
The coin drops like a stone, hitting the floor and flipping, once, twice, three times.
Then it lands on its end, spinning in a semi-circle across the floor, and hits my shoe before finally falling flat.
“Heads.”
The whispered word falls from my mouth as my shoulders relax. Monroe’s mouth thins into a hard line as he puts his hands into his pockets and turns to Gray.
“Win some, lose some,” he mutters as if he’s just been given the most mundane news imaginable. “I was looking forward to our time together, Jacqueline.” Then he turns to Gray. “Where’s the rest of my money?”
“In the trunk of my car,” Gray says, and there’s something in his voice now, a thickness that wasn’t there before.
Then the guards on either side of Flynn release him, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s on his feet, lurching toward me, gripping my arm and pulling me from the room before another word is spoken.
I don’t have time to even glance at Gray before Flynn is dragging me towards Ben, Seb, and Scott.
Flynn marches me toward the exit, the darkness of the hallway merging into the cold darkness of the lot outside the warehouse. I have no idea which part of the city we are in, and I don’t care; I just want to get out of it and never come back.
“Are you okay?” Flynn asks urgently. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Let’s just get out of here. Where’s your car?”
“Jones brought his,” Flynn says, his arm going around my shoulders as we walk out into the darkness.
I turn to see Gray striding out after us. Two guards flank him as he walks toward his car. Flynn stops beside it, Seb, Ben, and Scott next to him as Gray opens the trunk, pulls out another smaller duffel, and throws it at the feet of the guards.
They pick it up and go back inside without a word.
“Is that it?” Scott asks, his voice cracked and hoarse. “Who the fuck is this guy?” he asks, staring at Gray.
“Get in the motherfucking car,” Flynn growls, and Scott immediately complies, piling in after Ben and Seb, moving gingerly as they bend to climb into the car.
I move to follow them, when a hand lands on my arm, pulling me back. Without a word, Gray drags me around to the passenger side, forcing Flynn to climb in the back with my brothers.
There’s barely enough room in the back seat for three people, let alone four grown-ass men.
I slide into the seat, watching Gray walk around to the driver’s side, looking around him constantly as if Monroe might change his mind.
He opens the door and lowers into his seat, his gaze straight ahead, not even acknowledging I’m beside him.
The stench of blood and body odor is overpowering in the car, and I’m grateful when Flynn opens a window as Gray drives away.
I expect him to speed out of there like the car is on fire, but he drives slowly and carefully around the corner through some long metal fencing and a wide gate where a guard stands watching us as we cruise by.
As we drive, we pass a maze of containers and old warehouses, and I’m lost within seconds as Gray navigates through it easily. It takes me several minutes to figure out that we’re by the waterfront, a mess of metal cranes and building work rising on each side of us.
Once we are on the highway heading back toward the city, I hear Seb give a little sigh of relief and glance back at him.
“Do we need to go to the hospital?” I ask, but all of them shake their heads. Scott’s eye is even more swollen and black than it was before, his expression grim.
Ben winces, leaning forward to free up more space. They’re shoulder to shoulder like a can of sardines.
“Who the hell is this dude?” he says, repeating Scott’s question as everyone but Flynn stares at Gray.
“This is Gray Jones,” Flynn says bitterly. “Our new business partner, apparently.”
There’s a long silence, the shifting movements from the back the only sound until Scott sighs.
“I’m so sorry,” he says as we approach a long line of traffic heading into the city. “This is my fault. Everything is my fault.”
No one replies. After all, what could we say? This is his fault. He’s caused unending problems for me, for Flynn, and now for Gray.
A man who hasn’t met my gaze since we left the warehouse.
As we travel through the city, brake lights and horns blaring all around us as we make our way back to Irving, I should be focused on my brothers. I should want to ensure that they’re okay.
But all I can think about is my silent companion up front, driving steadily and slowly through the city as if he does this every day.
What the hell happens now?
When we arrive back at the house after an interminable, miserable journey, my brothers can’t get out of the car fast enough.
I climb out too, my body and mind aching, rattled by the events of the day, and Gray’s stone-cold silence.
I close the door, expecting him to drive off with a parting joke about not bothering to come in tomorrow, but instead, he gets out of the car, too.
“You’re coming in?” I ask incredulously, but he doesn’t turn to look at me.
“I need to discuss terms with your brother.”
“What?” I ask stupidly.
“I just dropped half a million dollars to bail you out, you think I’m going to just walk away?”
Then he turns and walks up the steps of the house and away from me. I stare after him, my chest aching painfully.
All I want is a hot shower and sleep, but when I enter the house, Flynn is standing awkwardly in the living room, with Gray beside him and my brothers scattered around them, looking beyond confused.
No one is speaking.
“We need to talk about what’s next,” Gray says in a stern tone and Scott looks at me.
“Jax, is this the dude who’s been buying you designer clothes and shit?” he says, looking at me.
“Scott, would you shut up and sit down?” I snap out. His mouth drops open and then closes just as fast as he goes to lean against the wall, holding his ribs.
“Seb, Ben, go clean yourselves up,” Flynn growls, and my two younger brothers troop out, exchanging worried glances but not saying a word.
Flynn sits down at the table, and after a few seconds of staring at Gray, willing him to look at me, I go and join him.
It is eerily reminiscent of the night before, our long vigil waiting for our brothers to come home. Without Gray, they might all be dead now, and god knows what might be happening to me. Still, I can’t muster any feelings of gratitude.
The despair of those long hours returns as I sit down, glancing at Flynn, who is watching Gray like he’s about to drop a bomb.
“So what do you want?” Flynn finally asks, as Gray turns to us, his hands in his pockets.
“Half a million dollars,” he says flatly.
“No one asked you to pay off Scott’s debt,” I spit out, and Flynn’s hand finds mine on the table.
“He saved our lives, Jax,” he says softly.
I glare daggers at Gray, but he doesn’t bother acknowledging me.
Gray continues. “I intend to get my money back, with interest. From now on, I’m a majority shareholder in your new club.”
“Fuck you!” I say as Flynn sucks in a breath.
“I just laid down a shit ton of money for Mr. Big Time Gambler over there,” he says, nodding to Scott. “You’ll still manage the club. But it’ll be my name above the door.”
Sweat springs up at the base of my spine at the ruthless man standing in front of me. I’ve never seen this side of Gray. I’ve heard about it from everyone who works for him, but I never thought he would take away something so precious to all of us.
He knows how much this club means to me. Why would he do this?
I look to Flynn, expecting fireworks, arguments—anything. But my brother is leaning back in his chair, his watery eyes focused on Gray’s shoes.
“Alright.”
It’s the only word he says as I stare at him in disbelief.
“Flynn, you can’t!” I say helplessly, but when I look at Scott, he has the same expression on his face of resigned acceptance. “You—”
“We don’t have a choice, Jax,” Flynn replies flatly. “He owns us now.” My older brother looks up at Gray, real hatred in his eyes for a moment. “On one condition.”
I breathe out. This is where he negotiates a future deal, something that releases us from these terms in the end and gives us some control back. I brace myself for the showdown.
“Whatever is between you and Jax stops now,” Flynn murmurs. “She doesn’t need you anymore. Not like that.”
I blink at him, my mouth falling open. Slowly, I look at Gray, whose eyes flicker to me; the bright blue irises I’ve dreamed about so many times are emotionless as he squares his shoulders and gives one decisive, gut-wrenching nod.
“Done.”
I spring up from my seat, glaring at my brother. “Fuck you. All of you,” I snap out. “You don’t get to decide what I will and won’t do. And as for you,” I say, turning to Gray. “Go to hell and take your fucking investment with you, you piece of shit.”
I storm out of the room and up the stairs.
I’ve finally seen Gray Jones’s true colors, just in the nick of time.