Chapter 40 Jax
Chapter Forty: Jax
I wake up at five AM like I always do.
The house is still dark. It’s silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic on the highway.
I sit up and run my hand through my hair. I try to shake off the dream I was having—something about the night Tiger got shot, but this time I couldn’t get to her in time.
I need coffee.
I swing my legs out of bed and pad down the hallway in bare feet, pass Zephyr’s room, and pass the guest bedroom. Tiger’s room.
The door is cracked open.
I pause and tell myself I’m just checking on her. I’m making sure she’s okay, that she’s not in any pain.
I push the door open slowly and quietly.
She’s asleep.
Curled on her side with her good arm tucked under the pillow. Hair spread across the pillowcase. Face relaxed in a way I don’t see when she’s awake.
And Zephyr’s next to her.
On top of the covers. Still dressed. But his hand is resting near hers on the pillow. Close enough that their fingers might be touching.
My heart races.
Not anger. Not exactly. More like... possession. Like something primal and territorial that I don’t know what to do with.
She’s here in my house, in a bed that I helped make up for her. I’ve done everything possible to make sure she’s safe.
But Zephyr got to have her last night.
I stand here longer than I should, watching them sleep, and processing the tightness in my chest. Then I back out quietly and close the door until it’s slightly cracked.
I head to the kitchen and start making breakfast because I need something to do with my hands. I pull out eggs and bacon. Then get a pan and heat it on the stove. I crack eggs into a bowl and whisk them harder than necessary.
A quiet knock on the front door interrupts my aggressive whisking.
I check my phone. Five thirty.
I walk over and open the door.
Callum’s standing in practice gear with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says, walking past me uninvited.
“It’s not even six.”
“Yeah, but I figured you’d be up. Plus I wanted to see how Tiger’s first night went.” He drops his bag by the couch and follows me to the kitchen. “Also, are you making breakfast? Because I’m starving.”
“I’m making breakfast for three people.”
“Perfect. I’m one of them.”
I don’t argue. I just crack more eggs into the bowl for four fucking people instead.
Callum leans against the counter watching me cook. “So? How’d it go?”
“Fine.”
“Fine? That’s all I get?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Details? Is she settling in okay? Did she freak out? Did you freak out?”
I flip the bacon. “Nobody freaked out.”
“Yeah, well…”
I ignore him and keep cooking. I scramble the eggs and toast bread while Callum just scrolls on his phone. I set the table for four even though I told Callum I was only cooking for three.
Around six, I hear movement down the hall.
Zephyr appears first. His hair’s messy. His eyes are still half-closed. He sees Callum and stops.
“When did you get here?”
“Like an hour ago,” Callum exaggerates.
“It’s been thirty minutes,” I correct.
Tiger walks out a minute later wearing an oversized t-shirt—one of mine, I realize—and pajama shorts. Her hair’s pulled up in a messy bun. She’s still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
She looks cute.
Dangerously cute.
“Morning,” she says softly.
“Morning,” the two of us echo back.
She sits at the table. Zephyr immediately moves to the coffee maker and starts brewing a cup.
I watch him add cream. Not too much. One sugar. Stir it exactly three times.
When did he learn how she likes her coffee?
He brings it to her and she smiles up at him. “Thank you.”
“How’d you sleep?” he asks.
“Good. Really good.”
Callum reaches across the table and steals a piece of bacon off her plate before she can protest.
“Cal,” she scolds, but she’s smiling at him.
He smiles back. “What? You weren’t eating it fast enough.”
I clench my jaw, unable to take whatever the fuck’s going on.
Zephyr walks to the counter and comes back with her painkillers. He sets them next to her plate with a glass of water.
“You should take these with food,” he says.
She looks at the pills, then at him. “Thank you.”
I’m standing at the stove watching all of this unfold.
The easy way Callum teases her. The careful way Zephyr takes care of her. The way she smiles at both of them like they’re not completely upending her entire life.
It’s domestic. Comfortable. Natural.
And it makes my chest feel tight in a way I don’t understand.
She’s not mine, even though I know what she tastes like.
Even though I came in my pants when she orgasmed.
Even though I jack off to the thought of her.
And I desire her in every way fucking possible.
This wasn’t the plan. It was never the plan.
We eat breakfast together. Callum talks about practice. Zephyr mentions some assignment he has due. Tiger mostly listens and smiles and steals glances at all three of us when she thinks we’re not looking.
By six-forty, we need to head out.
“We’re going to practice,” I say, standing up and grabbing my keys.
Tiger says, “Okay.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Zephyr asks. There’s real concern in his voice.
“Yes. I’ll be okay. I heard back from my Professors, they’re allowing me to do Zoom until I can physically attend classes again.”
That’s good.
“You have our numbers,” Callum adds.
She nods.
“And you’ll call if you need anything?” I ask.
She smiles shyly. “I promise.”
We’re all standing there. Nobody moving. Like we don’t know how to leave her.
Finally, I step forward and cup her face with my hand. I look into her eyes and then I look at her lips. I lean down and kiss her.
It’s brief. Gentle. A simple goodbye kiss.
When I pull back, Zephyr and Callum are both watching.
We all head out together in my car because apparently, we’re all coming back here after practice anyway.
Nobody talks for the first five minutes of the drive.
Then Callum says from the backseat, “So we’re just doing that now? Kissing her in front of each other?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t know.”
Just as Zephyr says, “Apparently.”
“Good to know,” Callum says. “Just establishing the rules.”
“There are no rules,” Zephyr says.
“Then what are we doing?”
“Be quiet,” I say tightly.
We pull into the rink parking lot. My phone buzzes just as I’m getting out.
Marcus.
“Hold on,” I tell the guys. I answer the call. “Marcus. Yeah, hold on.”
I put it on speaker. I motion for Zephyr and Callum to come closer.
“Go ahead,” I say.
“Jax. I’ve reviewed Tigerlily’s situation. I have some information for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“First, the statute of limitations. California doesn’t have one for murder, which works in our favor. The conviction can be challenged regardless of time elapsed.”
“Okay.”
“Second, coerced minor testimony. There’s precedent for overturning convictions when the primary witness was a minor under duress. Especially when there’s documented evidence of abuse and intimidation.”
“The gunshot wound,” Zephyr says.
“Her recent injuries establish a pattern of violence and control. It corroborates her claim that she was forced to lie under threat.”
I watch Callum’s jaw tighten.
“What’s the bad news?” I ask.
“The bad news is that giving her statement will be traumatic. She’ll be questioned extensively. Defense attorneys will try to discredit her. They’ll paint her as unreliable, emotional, influenced by others.” He pauses. “It won’t be easy.”
“She can handle it,” I say immediately.
“I believe you, but she needs to know what she’s walking into.”
“What’s our timeline?” Zephyr asks.
“We need to act fast. Damien’s lawyer will be building his defense. The longer we wait, the harder this becomes. I can set up a meeting for tomorrow if she’s ready.”
I look at Zephyr. At Callum. Both of them nod.
“Set it up,” I say. “We’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll send you the details. And Jax?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s lucky to have you in her corner.”
I end the call.
I stand there in the parking lot processing everything.
“She’s going to be okay,” Callum says.
“Yeah,” Zephyr agrees.
I nod, but I’m not sure if I believe it’s that simple.
In the locker room, Coach walks in and says, “Jax Kingsway.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Where the hell were you when I called that team meeting?”
“Tending personal matters.”
Coach slowly walks over. “Personal matters, huh?” He pulls out a cup and says, “I need you to piss in this. Protocol.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, walking toward the restroom.
“While he’s doing that, listen up. We have a roster change. Micah Kirby is moving up to center.”
I hear Callum laugh. “Rumors were true?”
Coach barks back, but I don’t hear it as the restroom door closes behind me.
I piss in the cup, screw the lid back on, wash my hands, and walk back out with it. “Where do you want it, Coach?”
“On my desk.”
“Rowan’s been suspended, pending investigation.”
Ben asks, “Is he the one who sabotaged the samples?”
“Nothing’s been confirmed yet, but the point I’m trying to make here is Micah.”
Micah’s good. Solid player. But he’s not Rowan.
We all exchange looks.
“Let’s see how practice goes, boys. And be nice on our new center.”
Practice is brutal.
Coach makes us run drills until my legs are shaking. Conditioning. Stick work. Defensive plays.
But I can’t focus.
I keep checking my phone between drills. No messages from Tiger. Which is good. It means she’s fine.
But I check anyway.
“Kingsway, stop checking your damn phone! Now, Kirby, you’re taking first line. Kingsway, Brixton, you’ll be flanking him. Let’s see how it works.”
We run through plays. Micah’s fast, but his timing is off. Shit. This is going to take work.
By the time practice ends, I’m exhausted and irritated and worried about Tiger.
Coach lectures us some more, though I suspect he’s indirectly speaking to Micah.
It’s around lunch time by the time we reach my house.
The second I walk in, I smell something burning.
“Tiger?” I call out.
“Hi,” she says, popping around the corner.
We rush in. She’s standing at the stove with an oven mitt on her good hand and a look of determination on her face.
There’s smoke coming from a pan.
“What are you doing?” Zephyr asks, moving to open a window.
“Making lunch,” she says. “Or trying to.”
Callum peers into the pan. “What is it?”
“It was supposed to be chicken stir-fry.”
“It looks like charcoal,” he says.
“I know.” She looks defeated. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice and—”
“Hey.” I step closer. “It’s fine. We’ll eat it anyway.”
She looks at me like I’m insane. “You can’t eat that.”
“Watch me.”
We sit down at the table. She serves us plates of... this. It’s definitely overcooked. Possibly inedible, but at least it’s not raw.
I take a bite.
It’s bad. Really bad.
But I chew and swallow and take another bite.
Zephyr does the same. Callum makes a face but eats it too.
Tiger’s watching us with wide eyes. “This is ridiculous. You guys don’t have to—”
“It’s good,” I lie.
“It’s not.”
“It’s edible,” Zephyr offers.
“Barely,” Callum mutters.
She starts laughing. Then we’re all laughing. The tension breaks and suddenly it doesn’t matter that lunch is terrible.
What matters is that she tried. That she’s here. That we’re all together.
After lunch, Callum and I need to head out for classes.
Later that day, there’s pizza on the counter for dinner. And we all sit at the couch to watch a movie. Tiger ends up in the middle. I’m on her right. Zephyr’s on her left. Callum’s on the floor leaning against the couch.
We put on some action movie that none of us are really watching.
Tiger falls asleep halfway through, and her head drops onto my shoulder.
I freeze.
I look at Zephyr. He’s watching her sleep with this soft expression I’ve never seen on him before.
Callum whispers from the floor, “We need to talk about what we’re doing.”
“What do you mean?” Zephyr whispers back.
“I mean are we taking turns or...”
“Shut the fuck up, Cal,” I hiss.
Callum just laughs.
“He’s right, Jax,” Zephyr says quietly. “We’re going to have to figure this out eventually.”
Callum adds, “We all want her.”
My jaw clenches. The possessive feeling from this morning comes roaring back. Anger mixed with protectiveness.
“This isn’t the time,” I say.
“When is the time?” Callum asks.
“Not now. She’s still injured.”
We fall silent. The movie plays. Tiger sleeps.
And I sit there with her weight against me, feeling everything I shouldn’t be feeling.
When the movie ends, I carefully slide my arm under her legs and lift her.
She stirs but doesn’t wake.
I carry her down the hall. Extra careful of her injured arm. I lay her down in bed and pull the blanket over her.
She mumbles something I don’t catch and curls onto her side.
I sit on the edge of the bed watching her sleep.
Wondering what the fuck we’ve gotten ourselves into.
Wondering if this is going to work or if we’re all setting ourselves up for the worst kind of heartbreak.
Wondering if I can share her with my two best friends.
Wondering if I even have a choice anymore.
Because looking at her now—peaceful and safe and mine—I know I’m already in too deep to walk away.