Chapter 3 Zephyr
Chapter Three: Zephyr
Jax halts in the parking lot.
Just stops dead, staring at the asphalt. At nothing, but it isn’t nothing. I can see it in his shoulders. The way they’re pulled tight. The way his fists are clenched.
Something’s wrong.
I know that look. Seen it before, back when Jax used to be the guy who threw first and asked questions never. But that was three years ago. He’s been different since hockey became an ultimatum. He’s calmer now. More controlled.
Whatever the hell’s going on can’t be good.
I walk out into the cold. He doesn’t look at me.
“Are we hitting up the party?” I ask.
He looks at me then. And the rage in his eyes answers before his mouth does.
“No.”
I don’t ask questions. Just feel my own anger rise to meet his. Whatever this is, whoever pissed him off—I’m in.
We get in his car. The engine roars to life.
“We making a house call?” I ask once we’re on the road.
He stares straight ahead. “Yeah.”
I don’t ask. Jax doesn’t do shit without a reason. He’s not petty either, so I can trust that this is a big deal. But I have to admit that this hasn’t happened in the past few months. I don’t know what changed, but it’s clearly got him on edge.
Thirty minutes later, we’re crawling down a residential street in Anaheim. Houses with manicured lawns. Normal. Quiet.
Jax slows in front of a house. It’s a one-story, beige with brown trim, and a black SUV parked in the driveway.
He pulls over two houses down and kills the engine.
I look at the house, then at him.
“Looks normal,” I say.
He gets out without a word.
I check the time. 10:47 PM. Then I follow him across the street.
We stay low but move fast. The Honda’s parked at an angle, blocking part of the driveway.
“Don’t be seen,” Jax says, looking into the SUV.
We cut around to the side of the house where thick bushes line the property. Perfect cover.
The curtains are closed, but light spills through the cracks.
Jax crouches behind the bushes. “Stay here. Keep lookout.”
Then he disappears around the corner.
I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here, sneaking around someone’s property. Jax doesn’t pull shit like this anymore. He’s been fine for three years. No fights. No trouble. Just hockey and keeping his head down.
Yeah, he has a past that haunts him, but don’t we all?
A man’s voice explodes from inside.
“Tigerlily!”
Then it’s quiet.
I hear the anger in the man’s voice. Raw. Barely controlled. Now he’s whispering something I can’t make out. There are a few swear words in there.
I move, duck low, and sneak up to the house. I press my back against the siding beneath the window.
A light flickers to my right. I shift over, staying below the window line.
Then I hear a soft voice. Female. Whispering.
“Don’t worry, Zinnia. It’s going to be okay. Please don’t cry.”
Soft whimpers. A younger girl.
“Just stay in here. I’m going to calm him down.”
The younger girl’s voice cracks. “You shouldn’t have gone to the hockey game. You made him so mad.”
My blood runs cold.
The fuck?
“Did he hit you?” she asks.
Silence.
“Did he hit you, Zinnia, because—”
“No, he didn’t,” the young soft voice says.
“Lily!” The man’s voice booms through the house again.
A door shuts. The young girl’s crying gets muffled.
I move back to the other window, duck down, and listen.
Jax cuts around the corner, so I wave him over to hear this shit.
The man’s voice is closer now. “Do you have any idea what you cost me tonight?”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
Dad?
Shit.
“You see, Lily—sorry just isn’t enough.”
Jax crouches next to me. The look in his eyes is feral. Dark. Ready for a fight. His jaw clenches, so I’m on edge now.
“Dad, please hear me out. Elle begged me to go to the hockey game. She bought me a ticket. We’re becoming best friends, and I couldn’t say no, and I knew you’d say no, so I—”
“So you lied?”
Silence.
“Do you know how much I hate liars?”
“I know, Dad. I swear it won’t happen again. I’ll watch Zinnia, okay. Whatever you need. I’ll skip class. I’ll... I’ll work two jobs to help with bills.”
I see Jax’s jaw clench. The light from the house lights up his face. It’s clear that he’s livid.
I lean against the siding and keep listening.
“Give me your phone.”
“Dad.” Her voice cracks. “Please, don’t take my phone away.”
“Give it to me or—”
I stare at the ground.
“Who the fuck was that boy?” the dad asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me his fucking name!” The asshole is shouting now.
“What are you gonna do?” Her voice is shaking. “Call him?”
“Give me his fucking name right now!”
I look at Jax, confused.
She says, “I already told you I don’t know who he is. I’ve never seen him before.”
“You must think I’m so fucking stupid.”
She’s crying now. “Dad, I don’t know who he is.”
“Tell me his fucking name!”
I glance at Jax again. This is escalating fast.
“Let me look online or something. He plays hockey. Number 39—”
My eyes cut to Jax.
That’s his jersey number.
What the fuck did he get himself into?
A loud thud. Something heavy hits the floor.
Jax moves quickly, glancing through the window.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Lily. Who the fuck are you spreading your legs for? Tell me his fucking name!”
Footsteps. Struggling. Something crashes.
Jax stays at the window. Then he shifts, moving to the other window. The one with a crying young girl.
I follow. My knees are burning from all the crouching.
A door slams inside, and then a light flickers on.
Jax stands at the window. Just stands there, staring in.
I grab his arm, pulling him down. But he yanks free of my hold.
If he’s standing where he can see her, so am I.
I straighten up, my knees cracking as I do.
Through the window, I see long black hair falling in a sharp V to her tailbone. Athletic build. Shoulders pulled tight.
A loud bang fills the room, but she doesn’t flinch.
“Open this fucking door!”
The younger girl—Zinnia—walks up and holds her tight.
“I don’t know who he is! I haven’t seen him before. I need you to believe me!”
Jax ducks, pulling me down with him.
He pulls out his keys and hands them to me. Then he points behind the house.
I nod. He wants me to meet him around the block with his car.
I stay low, duck under the windows and run until I hit the sidewalk. Then I pull my hoodie up and walk. I keep it casual. Just a guy out for a late-night stroll.
I get to his car, unlock it, and slide into the driver’s seat.
I don’t know what the fuck Jax is about to do. She doesn’t know who Jax is. But whatever this is, I don’t need details to understand that he’s on the right side.
Because some shit doesn’t need explaining.
You just know.