Chapter 17 Shared Burdens
SHARED BURDENS
MARCUS
Time on The Ranch bends and shifts in strange ways.
Some moments feel like they stretch endlessly, especially during Jax’s roughest hours, while others—like the quiet moments stolen with Lily—seem to vanish in the blink of an eye.
The Ranch itself is like a song played in a slow, steady rhythm, a backdrop of rolling hills and grazing cattle.
But inside the house, our lives are anything but serene.
We’re a band trying to find its tempo again after a catastrophic breakdown.
Jax’s roughest detox day begins in the early hours of the morning on our third day, long before the sun rises. I’m startled awake by a crash coming from his room. For a split second, I think maybe he’s fallen, but when I rush to the doorway, it’s worse.
Jax is on his knees beside the bed, his hands gripping the mattress like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the world. His chest heaves with labored breaths, and sweat drenches his hair and back. The lamp on his nightstand lies shattered on the floor, its shards glinting in the dim light.
“Jax,” I say cautiously, stepping into the room.
“Get the hell out!” he snarls, his voice raw and filled with venom. He looks up at me, and his green eyes are bloodshot and glassy.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say firmly, crossing the room to kneel in front of him. “You’re not alone in this.” He isn’t supposed to be alone at all and I scan the room, trying to figure out who was supposed to be in here watching him.
“I didn’t ask for this!” he snaps, his voice breaking. “I didn’t ask for any of you to babysit me like I’m some goddamn child!”
“You didn’t ask for it, but you need it,” Lily’s voice cuts in. She stands in the doorway, her blonde hair still mussed from sleep, but her expression resolute. She moves into the room and kneels beside Jax, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.
He flinches away from her touch at first, but when she doesn’t retreat, he lets her hand stay.
Seconds later, Dylan reappears in the doorway, holding a bloody rag to his left hand. Lily gasps and jumps to her feet, rushing over to him.
“Are you okay?”
He offers a grimace that is supposed to be a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. We just… had an incident.”
“Can I look at it?” Lily asks softly.
My gaze flits between Jax, kneeling on the floor and the direction of his gaze, as he watches Dylan and Lily together. The two of them exit into the hallway, presumably to take care of his hand.
“Why don’t we clean this up and then join everyone for breakfast?” I suggest.
Jax snaps his head toward me like he forgot I was even there. His eyes dart around the room, taking in the shattered glass and scattered mess. “Yeah,” he says slowly, his voice hoarse. “We can do that.”
I crouch to start picking up the shards of glass, but before I can make any progress, Jax starts gagging.
I’m on my feet in an instant, pulling him toward the bathroom.
The next three hours are nothing short of brutal.
He’s hunched over the toilet, his body wracked with violent heaves that leave him shaking and drenched in sweat.
“Don’t let Lily in,” he croaks between bouts of vomiting.
I nod, respecting his wish even as my chest tightens with guilt. Lily knocks on the door every so often, her voice soft and concerned, but I keep her out. “He’s okay,” I tell her each time, though the truth is far from it.
Jax cycles through a storm of emotions—rage that leaves him shouting curses at the walls, despair that has him begging to die, and pure physical agony as his body purges itself of toxins.
I stay by his side, handing him a damp cloth, rubbing his back, or just being there when there’s nothing else I can do.
By the time it’s finally over, Jax looks worse than ever. His skin is pale and clammy, his hair greasy and wet with sweat, and he can barely stand. I give him a moment to catch his breath, then help him into the shower.
“Take your time,” I tell him, turning on the water and stepping out to give him some privacy.
When he emerges, the water seems to have rinsed away some of the physical grime, but his exhaustion is evident. He’s barely keeping himself upright as I guide him to the kitchen.
Lily is waiting there, worry shining through her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything as she sets a plate of toast in front of Jax. He eats slowly, each bite a visible effort, while the rest of us sit around the table, pretending like nothing is wrong.
Enzo stares at his coffee like it holds the answers to all our problems. Dylan picks at the edge of his plate, his usual humor nowhere to be found. Lily takes a seat near Jax, but I can tell she is ready to jump up at a moment’s notice if he needs something.
After breakfast, Lily gathers everyone into the living room. “Alright, everyone, sit down,” she says, her voice gentle but firm.
Reluctantly, we take our places. Enzo drops into the armchair by the fireplace, his usual scowl in place. Dylan plops onto the couch next to him, cracking a joke about how this feels like a group therapy session.
Lily sits on the edge of the couch, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her blonde hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, and she looks at us with eyes that seem to see more than we’re ready to share.
“I think we need to talk,” she begins. “Not just about Jax, but all of us. We’ve been through a lot, and we haven’t dealt with it. I think it’s time we start being honest about how we’re feeling.”
Enzo lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms. “Feelings? Really?”
“Yes, Enzo. Feelings,” Lily says, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You don’t have to like it, but you’re going to participate.”
Dylan grins. “Oh, this should be good. Enzo sharing his feelings? I’m grabbing popcorn.”
I chuckle, but my gaze shifts to Jax. He’s sitting there, quiet and withdrawn. His dark hair hangs in his face, his eyes avoiding all of ours. He’s here, but barely.
“I’ll start,” I say, clearing my throat. “This isn’t just about what Jax has been through. It’s about what we’ve all been through. We’ve been ignoring the cracks for too long, and they’ve only gotten deeper.”
Jax shifts, his eyes flicking to mine for a second, before dropping back to the floor. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Marcus. We all know I’m the one who screwed everything up.”
“No one’s sugarcoating anything,” I reply, keeping my voice steady. “But this isn’t just on you. We all saw the signs, and we didn’t act. That’s on us too. But we’re here now, and we’re not leaving you behind.”
Silence settles over the room, heavy but necessary. Dylan leans forward, his usual playful demeanor softening. “Jax, we’re family. None of us are perfect. We’ve all made mistakes. But you’re still one of us, and we’ve got your back.”
Jax looks at Dylan, disbelief flickering in his tired eyes. It’s like he doesn’t trust the kindness being offered to him.
Enzo shifts in his chair, his jaw tight. “Look, I’m not great with this emotional crap,” he mutters. “But Dylan’s right. We’ve all got your back. So, stop acting like you’re in this alone, alright?”
Jax blinks, clearly caught off guard by Enzo’s bluntness. He opens his mouth to respond but hesitates, his shoulders slumping. “I… I didn’t think you guys felt that way.”
Lily reaches over, placing her hand on his knee. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Jax. We’re all in this together.”
The room goes quiet again, but the silence feels lighter, the air easier to breathe.
Jax nods once, a small but meaningful gesture, before standing and heading to his room without another word.
We let him go. He needs time to process.
But something shifts in the room, a collective exhale after holding our breaths for too long.
Dylan breaks the silence with a grin. “So… anyone up for a movie? Or are we just gonna sit here and feel feelings all day?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You never change, do you?”
“Hey, distractions work,” he says, grabbing the remote. “And we could all use one.”
“I don’t think we should leave Jax alone for too long,” Lily states hesitantly.
Enzo nods. “Yeah, it hasn’t been long enough for me to feel like he’s okay alone yet either. I’ll go hang with him for now.”
Lily stands and offers Enzo a hug, which he turns into a passionate kiss. Breaking apart with a smirk when Dylan starts to boo him. He gives Lily one more squeeze, ignoring her bright red cheeks, then stalking out of the room and down the hall.
The three of us settle into the couch, Lily tucked between Dylan and me.
The movie plays in the background, its soft glow flickering across the room.
Lily leans into me, her warmth seeping into my side.
My hand finds her waist, a small but comforting touch.
Across her other side, I see Dylan intertwining his fingers with hers, and everything just feels right.