OLIVIA #2
I absolutely did not race him.
Somehow, we made it to the dining room in one piece, where I immediately locked up at the sight of Jax.
He was seated at the head of the table, boots kicked up, and ankles crossed, hands linked behind his head like he was soaking up a tan.
He didn’t look at me. Not even a glance as I shuffled into the room.
Ryle abandoned me instantly to launch himself at Callum’s back, where he stood staring out the window. The large man barely flinched at the surprise attack, as if it were a common occurrence. Knowing what I now knew about Ryle, it probably was.
Nate sat at the opposite end, face buried in his arms, apparently snoozing. Madoc was staring at him from his post against the wall, twirling my knife like he was considering giving the sleeping man an impromptu haircut. I glared at him just because, and, like Jax, Madoc pretended I didn’t exist.
I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
And then there was Zola.
She walked over to Jax and leaned far too close to him, practically kissing him as she showed him something on the tablet. Jax grinned up at her, no hint of malice or mistrust. He didn’t look like he wanted to rip her hair out and call her a liar.
Wait. Was I seriously jealous? What was wrong with me?
“Well?” I snapped.
All eyes, barring Nate, swiveled toward me.
“Well, what?” Zola asked with a sneer. With great reluctance, Jax rolled his head toward me and smirked.
“Tell her highness what you found.”
Zola scoffed. “Why should I? I’ve been busting my ass doing her dirty work while she’s been, what? Admiring the silverware?”
“I’m not a magpie,” I said, refusing to cower under her hostility. “Have you actually found something useful or not?”
Zola shoved the tablet into Jax’s chest, hard enough to make him fumble it. “You tell her. This is your deal, not mine. I don’t give a fuck what happened to her whorish sister.”
Acid burned in my mouth. “She’s not a whore.”
“So, no family resemblance then?”
My fists clenched, nails biting into familiar grooves.
The room waited for my retaliation. In a physical fight, I knew we would be evenly matched.
She might’ve been world-weary and street-hardened, but I was a goddamn varsity cheerleader.
It was more than just pom-poms and chants—it was ruthless strength and conditioning, endless flexibility and endurance training.
I would not be underestimated.
“Do not,” I warned, my voice sugary and sweet, “talk about Molly.”
Zola’s eyes flashed, her grin sharpening. “Or what, Nancy Drew? You’ll trip over here and break a nail?”
“Don’t try me.”
Zola started to prowl around the table before Jax shot out his arm, halting her. The asshole just looked amused by the whole thing. “As much as I’d love a bitch fight right now, we’re on the clock.”
“Aw, come on.” The tension had apparently revived Nate. His glassy eyes bounced between his girlfriend and me eagerly. “The Hacker versus the Cheerleader. This should be televised. Let’s take bets.”
Zola’s dangerous eyes snapped to him. “Who are you betting on, babe?”
Nate shrank back fearfully.
I took a deep breath, pushing down my temper. It was hard. I was strung out and wired, and my head hurt just as much as my heart.
It was Callum who took pity on me.
“Come on, lass. Take a beat. I’ll show ya’ what we found.” With Ryle still clinging to his back like a happy spider monkey, Callum pulled back a chair and gestured for me to sit. I plonked down gratefully.
“What did you find?” I asked wearily.
Jax handed the tablet to Callum but spoke to me. “Zola hacked his email. A purchase order was issued to a pharmaceutical company here in Mexico. A big one.”
“How big?”
“Two hundred units.”
My eyes widened. “So, big, then.”
Ryle whistled over Callum’s shoulder. “That’s a whole lotta product. Was it the same drug Nate found?”
“Yeah,” Jax said, rubbing his shoulder—the same spot I had worked on earlier when I’d apparently lost my damn mind. “Either the old dog has a severe fucking anxiety disorder, or he’s pushing it somewhere else.”
“Cartel?” Nate asked.
“Doubtful,” Zola spoke up, unable to help herself. “The market value is shit. It’s not exactly addictive. What’s suspicious is that the pharmaceutical company lost its funding two years ago. They’re not even registered anymore.”
“So, it’s a cover for something else?”
“Or they’re manufacturing illegally,” Zola said, reaching for the tablet, which Callum relinquished easily. “The last order was made two weeks ago. It’s a repeat order, delivered directly to the coordinates of this clown house.”
“So where is it?” Ryle asked. He wriggled until he slid down Callum’s back and landed wobbly on his feet. “We’ve checked every room. You’d think we’d notice that much product.”
Something gnawed on the edges of my mind, like a memory that wasn’t solidifying. Why would Salvadore invest in an illegal anti-anxiety drug? Was he experimenting? Had Molly been some weird lab rat?
I pushed my fingers into my eyes. It didn’t make any sense.
Unless…
“What else could the drug be used for?” I asked, then repeated it when no one heard me.
Madoc smirked at me. “Got something, Watson?”
I scowled at the nickname. “Stop calling me that. The drug is non-addictive, and it clearly doesn’t work for anxiety. So, it must do something else, right?”
“I suppose it could be a light sedative,” Zola said, not looking at me. “The temporary paralysis and memory loss—you’d be a vegetable but not completely out.”
“Like a date rape drug,” Nate said, his head buried back in his arms. His flyaway comment landed like a dagger into my chest. My stomach plummeted.
Jax hummed thoughtfully. “A date rape drug hidden in plain sight. Smart fucker.”
No.
No. No. No.
My throat tightened, and a lump formed that I couldn’t swallow. My hand flew up, clawing at my throat, the skin breaking under my nails.
Not Molly.
Around me, the voices ebbed and faded, like they were speaking from very far away. Or maybe I was disassociating—that was a thing, right? My fingers tingled, but everywhere else went numb, and I didn’t hate it. In fact, I wanted to chase it.
I didn’t want to feel anything.
For a time, I just existed. Staring at nothing, feeling close to nothing. Then something tugged on my ponytail.
It didn’t hurt, but the abrupt sensation drew me back into myself. My head fell back, so I was staring up at Jax with blurred vision.
His brow furrowed. He looked almost concerned, so I knew I’d truly lost touch with reality. He said something I didn’t hear. His hand tugged again, a bit harder, the pain shooting like fire down the back of my neck.
“Olivia.”
I blinked at him dumbly. “You remember my name.” Here I was thinking he’d forgotten it.
His eyes narrowed, then flicked up to the rest of the room. “Everyone out.”
There was movement around me, and then we were alone. Jax’s fingers moved up my ponytail and sank into my hair. His nails scratched soothingly across my scalp.
“Not a cat,” I murmured, blinking wetly.
His lip quirked. “Bet I could make you purr.”
My cheeks went hot. I scrambled after my dignity and tried to squirm away, but he wasn’t having it. His fingers clawed, gripping my hair possessively, refusing to let me go.
“I want a new deal,” I gasped up at him.
That got his interest. “I’m listening.”
“Stay.”
“I’m right here.”
“No, I mean, stay here with me until Salvadore comes back.”
His hand tightened. “Don’t be stupid.”
Fresh tears prickled at my eyes at the brutal hold.
Jax considered me, lingering on the exposed jut of my neck. “You’re angry.”
“Yes,” I hissed.
“You want revenge?”
“More than anything.”
His eyes darkened, burning with that unnerving violence that made me shudder. “You want to become a killer, princess? Make him suffer?”
Wordlessly, I nodded.
Jax leaned over me, his face so close that I felt his breath on my mouth. My own lips parted automatically. Heat licked up my spine, igniting more and more with each purposeful tug of my ponytail.
Then his lips brushed mine, voice soft and deadly. “You don’t have what it takes.”
And that, finally, made me snap.