22. Green-Eyed Monster
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Green-Eyed Monster
“Seall air mo leanabh bòidheach! ? * She’s so freaking cute with her little puffy cheeks!”
Sitting on the living room floor, petting Mulder, Deja watched as Keith playfully lifted Chloe above his head and gently blew raspberries into her stomach. Chloe’s high-pitched giggles echoing in the living room brought a warm smile to Deja’s face. “She likes you…” Deja mused.
Lying on the floor, Keith glanced at Deja and grinned. “Course she does. Who the fuck wouldn’t like me?”
“Keith,” Deja warned.
“Whoops. My bad.” Keith lowered Chloe onto his face, peppering her cheeks with kisses. “Your sexy-ass mama doesn’t like when I curse around you, so I gotta be good if I’m ever gonna get between them thi-”
“Keith!” Deja snapped, slapping her hand across his mouth. Keith burst out laughing, causing Chloe to explode into giggles. Deja couldn’t help but grin. Keith had a way of making Chloe laugh even without intending to.
Keith playfully sucked Deja’s finger into his mouth before she quickly snatched her hand away. “Don’t tempt me then,” he grinned.
“You’re a freak,” Deja rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, you fucking love it though,” he smirked.
“Language!”
“Fuck, sorry!”
“Keith, shut up!” Deja laughed as Chloe’s giggling grew louder.
Leaning against the hallway wall with his arms crossed over his chest, Ian’s blue eyes were glued to the spectacle before him. A large vein throbbed against his temple, his jaw clenched.
“I have to stop by my shop before I meet you to go over the specs,” Caleb said, approaching Ian. Caleb handed him a folder, but Ian simply grabbed it, his gaze on Deja unwavering. “Are you even listening to me?” Caleb asked.
“I can multitask, Caleb. I’m not a simpleton,” Ian snapped.
“...okay…” Caleb said with a raised brow. “The fuck is your deal?”
Ian watched Jax enter the cabin from outside. His presence immediately changed the atmosphere as Deja’s relaxed demeanor completely shifted. She stood to her feet as Jax took Chloe from Keith and kissed Chloe’s forehead.
Ian squinted as if it would somehow help him hear what Deja and Jax were discussing. Moving to the corner of the living room, the two spoke in hushed voices, but they both seemed upset, Deja moreso than Jax.
Caleb grinned once he caught on. “You jealous, cousin?”
“Shut up,” Ian snapped.
Caleb snorted as he picked up a bundle of wood and headed out the door. “Just don’t forget...”
“I told you I can handle this myself,” Deja whispered to Jax.
“You’re still recovering, Deja. You shouldn’t be working at all,” Jax said, nuzzling Chloe with his nose.
Deja’s lips tightened. “Jax, I feel like I just need to do this on my own. Without a murderous babysitter hovering over my shoulder.”
Jax sighed as he patted Chloe’s back. “You told me you were struggling to build relationships with your investors and partners. That you had anxiety about tonight’s banquet.
Now you’re telling me not to get involved as if you weren’t just attacked recently.
I don’t know what you want from me, Deja. ”
“I wasn’t anyone’s target until you , Jax!” Deja said, exasperated. “Why do I have to suffer the consequences of being associated with you? When am I going to be able to live my own life without you dictating every single freaking thing that I do?!”
Jax looked at her, aggravatingly as he held Chloe to his chest, and Deja sharply exhaled as she looked away. “...you’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m stuck with you. When am I going to get a semblance of my life back…” she muttered.
Jax swallowed hard. “...you sound so disgusted with me…”
Deja looked up at him and was so surprised by the look of hurt in his eyes that she almost regretted her curt tone. But she was fed up. Tired. And desperate for freedom. “...I’m just-” she started.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jax said coldly. “I’ll take Chloe…You take Ian.”
Deja’s eyes bulged. “Jax, how is that any different-!”
“Or you take me,” Jax cut her off. Deja scoffed at his inflexibility. She glanced at Ian, who was watching her from across the living room, and blinked in startled surprise at the intense look in his eyes. Almost as if he were angry.
Even before Deja discovered Jax was a killer, he had always been a great business partner. He was always willing to let her take the lead. But ever since his resurrection , his overprotective nature was concerning. “Fine,” she said irritably. “I’ll go with Ian if it’ll satisfy the fascist.”
Jax raised a brow at her curt attitude. She was getting bolder and less tolerant. Cheekier and less fearful, despite how much he still intimidated her.
It was a huge fucking turn-on for him.
Wrapping a possessive hand around her waist, he aggressively pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
“You keep testing me… and it’s making me feel a little feral…
” he groaned. Grabbing her chin, Jax tilted her head up and captured her lips with his, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth.
Like clockwork, Deja felt goosebumps rise on her skin as she trembled against him until he finally pulled back.
Jax licked his lips as he eyed her with a knowing grin before he headed for the door. “Come on, Keith,” Jax ordered. Deja hated nothing more than the insanely erotic effect Jax had on her. How he could piss her off and still bring her to her knees, begging for his touch.
Ian raised a brow as Jax approached him. “I need you to escort her this evening,” Jax requested.
“You say jump, and I say how high?” Ian asked, annoyed.
Jax sighed impatiently. “...Ian..”
Ian tenderly caressed the back of Chloe’s head as he kissed her cheek. She plastered her tiny palm against his nose, and Ian grinned as he kissed her little fingers. “What were you arguing about?” Ian asked, pretending to chew Chloe’s fingers as she giggled.
Jax glanced at Deja, who stared at him worriedly. “...nothing…” Jax muttered as he turned back to Ian. “...take care of her.”
“Don’t I always?” Ian said, leaning back. Jax twisted his mouth in blatant frustration before he and Keith left the house.
Deja stood in front of the bedroom mirror, brushing her hair into a neat bun after running a hot comb through it. Her argument with Jax played over and over in her mind. They rarely argued. But then, she never felt comfortable arguing with Jax.
She could hear the soft, beautiful melody of a piano playing in the living room as her hands fell to the dresser.
Ian had been acting strange lately. Well, stranger than usual.
Though he seemed to be the saner, less unpredictable Donovan brother, she wondered if she needed to worry about him during this banquet.
His fingers danced across the white and black keys as his body swayed to the symphony he orchestrated.
Ian closed his eyes and opened his ears in hopes that enshrouding his mind in dark melodious chaos would distract him from the dark-skinned beauty that had dangerously consumed him.
But it seemed the more he tried, the deeper he fell.
Even as a wall separated them, he could still smell her perfume.
Feel her soft skin. Hear her laughter, her little sighs that drove him wild.
His song took a darker turn as his fingers practically slammed on the keys, sending Mulder and Scully scurrying out of the living room. Ian felt embarrassingly enraged.
The lack of control Deja ignited in him enraged him. Never had he felt so chaotically helpless toward someone who still feared his touch. He hated that he wanted her so badly. That his body craved hers. He hated this vulnerability. He refused it.
He forced himself to think of something far more sinister. And his song turned violent.
“Fix your posture, Ian.”
Ian winced as a thin piece of wood slapped his back, forcing him to sit upright. His back was numb, and his shirt stuck to his skin like glue from the clotted blood of open wounds.
He stared at the piano keys, painted with the blood that had splattered from the splints in his fingers. His finger would slip on his blood, playing the wrong tune, and the thin piece of wood would whip his fingers, leaving another bloody mark.
“Again…”
Ian tightened every muscle in his body, forcing himself to play against the pain. His fingers became more precise, his melody smoother.
“Foirfe! Tha mo bhalach foirfe ann! ? * Well done, Ian! Absolutely perfect!”
Ian glanced over his shoulder at his mother sitting in the large armchair, a proud smile on her face. His eyes ever so subtly drifted to the tall gentleman with the cold, steely blue eyes standing next to her that he called ‘father’... who held the thin wooden stick, dripping with his blood.
“You’ll do marvelous tomorrow night! I’m so proud of you,” his mother beamed as she stood to her feet.
Ian winced as she placed her hands on his torn, bleeding shoulders and laid a tender kiss on top of his head.
He watched her leave the living room before quickly looking down.
He didn’t dare look in his father’s eyes as his foreboding presence left the room.
Ian swallowed hard as he stared at his fingers trembling against the piano keys. He jumped, startled when he felt someone’s hands on his shoulders.
“Relax, it’s just me…”
Ian turned around and saw Jax standing behind him, holding a wet towel, a clean shirt, and healing balm. Ian breathed a sigh of relief. “...is it bad?”
Jax gently peeled Ian’s bloody shirt from his back as Ian groaned in pain. “No. The wounds aren’t that deep this time,” Jax said, gently cleaning Ian’s torn back.
“How did it sound?” Ian asked worriedly. “I messed up a few times, I know, but-”
“You sounded incredible,” Jax said quickly. “...you always do, Ian…”
Ian breathed anxiously as he stared at the bloody piano keys. “What if I mess up tomorrow at Madame Navine’s Winter Solstice Dinner, Jax? What if I-”
“You won’t,” Jax said. “I know you won’t. Just trust yourself…”
“Ian?”