Jax
Two things that have surprised me about New York so far?
First off, the people are pretty fucking rude. I don’t know why that shocked me as much as it did, but it did. I guess when you’re ten, you don’t really notice mannerisms around you. That doesn’t kick in until you’re at least twelve.
Second, finding a quiet restaurant wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. Surprisingly easy, actually.
The guys wanted to celebrate what they’re calling a “successful interview” by taking everyone out to eat—Don included. But would I call it successful finding out there’s now an even bigger rumor floating around about me bending someone over in a bloody rose bush.
Well... is it technically a rumor if it’s true? I mean, I guess not. But nobody else needs to know that. Not a single person needs to know what I do in my personal time—except the people in my life who actually matter. But I guess this is what I signed up for, isn’t it?
I glance over and catch Allie’s face lighting up as she watches James shove fifteen dinner rolls into his cheeks like some bloody hamster.
I swear, I could sit here for hours just watching how that tiny dimple cuts into her cheek when she smiles.
It doesn’t always appear. Only when she’s truly laughing and enjoying herself. And that’s what makes it so special.
Without thinking, I lean over, wrap my fingers around the leg of her chair, and drag her closer to me. The scraping echoes through the restaurant, and every head at the bar turns our way.
But this time I don’t care. She was too far away.
She leans in, presses a kiss to my cheek, and rests her hand on my thigh, then picks up her conversation right where she left off, like she didn’t just knock the air out of my lungs.
And just like that, I’m riding a high that’ll probably last the rest of the night.
I glance around the table, and catch Gareth actually smiling. He’s full-on, genuinely smiling at something Nora’s saying beside him as he toys with a peanut shell between his fingers.
Holy shit even Don is smiling.
I blink, the shock settling in as I realize: everyone’s happy. At the same bloody time.
Ana suddenly pushes her chair back and springs to her feet.
“Oh, I love this song! Come dance!” she says, grabbing James and Desmond by the hands and dragging them toward the floor.
They stumble over their feet, laughing, but stop short when Ana turns around.
“You coming, Allie?” she calls.
Allie shakes her head, her hand still resting on my thigh while her thumb brushes it gently. “Not right now,” she says. “Maybe in a little bit.”
Once they disappear into the small crowd, I lean in close, brushing her hair aside to whisper in her ear. “How come you didn’t want to dance?” I ask softly.
She chuckles and glances back at me over her shoulder. “I’m not drunk enough for that, yet.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I watch her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
I take a slow pull from my beer and set it gently back on the table. “God, I love watching you smile,” I admit, accidentally out loud. It was meant to stay in one of those little thought bubbles. But watching that same smile grow just because I said it? Totally worth every second.
She nods and turns toward me. “Yeah. I’m almost afraid to admit it, but I’m happy today.”
She says it like it’s a bad thing, and I wish I didn’t understand why. But I do.
Lately, being happy isn’t an easy thing to admit—at least not out loud. Because every time we do, something crashes down immediately after. But tonight? Tonight feels different.
Yeah, the interview might have stirred something up, but so far, no one’s said a word about it. And our page? It’s been blowing up since it went live an hour ago. So I’m counting that as a win.
I smile and reach across to brush my thumb along her jaw just as the door chime rings.
“Good,” I murmur. “Happy looks good on you, love.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gareth push back from the table, his chair skidding across the floor. His arm bumps into mine.
“Jax.”
The way he says my name freezes me. I know that tone—it means he’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like.
I drag my eyes to him. “Yeah?”
He doesn’t look at me—just nods toward the door, eyes locked on it like a guard dog.
“What’s wro—”
I follow his gaze, and the rest of the sentence dies in my throat. A chill slithers down my spine, coiling tighter with every inch until it settles in the pit of my stomach.
My eyes lock onto my poor excuse for a father before he even notices me. He’s making his way to the bar, and slides onto a stool, facing away from our table, completely oblivious.
I’m not surprised to see him at a bar. What does surprise me is that he doesn’t drive. Doesn’t work. And last I heard, he lived well over an hour away. So why the hell isn’t he wasting air in some crappy upstate town like he’s supposed to be?
Allie’s hand suddenly appears on my cheek. I flinch but don’t look away from the back of his small head.
“Hey,” she says softly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Her voice sounds muffled, like whatever’s coursing through my veins is drowning out the world around me.
I place my hand over hers, turning her palm upward and pressing a quick kiss to it. “Nothing.”
She chuckles softly. “Hey, remember what we said about communicating?”
My eyes snap to hers, and I don’t miss the flicker of worry that flashes across her features. Her smile quickly fades as her hand returns to my cheek. She kisses it softly before murmuring, “Okay.”
I’m not sure how long I sit here, zoning out everything around me. My gaze stays fixed on the back of the same balding head for so long, I start to wonder if it’s even really him anymore.
I look away for a second to glance at the table and see everyone has already eaten and is back to chatting away.
Everyone except me and Allie.
I catch her watching me. When our gazes meet, I nod toward her plate. “Eat.”
She shakes her head and shrugs, her eyes turning down. “I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. Eat, please?” I practically beg.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement and my body tenses. My eyes lock on him, tracking as he slowly moves toward the door. I almost let out a relieved breath when his hand clamps down on the bloody handle.
But then his gaze shoots over—and locks with mine.
Now I’m willing to bet my blood pressure is through the fucking roof.
He takes a step toward our table, and I’m up immediately, not caring how loud the chair scraping sounds across the restaurant.
I step in front of Allie, crossing my arms over my chest to block him.
Before he can reach us, Gareth notices and jumps up, grabbing my arm.
“Jax—”
I shrug his hand off without a word.
Richard steps forward, a smirk twisting his lips. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth collide.
“Saw you over here with your pals. Figured I’d come say—”
Before I can stop it, my fist pierces through the air, connecting right into his jaw. Pain explodes through my knuckles, but it’s absolutely worth it just to watch him stumble back and crash into a chair, nearly going down with it.
Gasps erupt from more than a few tables as chairs scrape and fly out of the way. Someone rushes to the asshole’s side, helping him to his feet.
My vision blurs. Everything narrows. I can barely register what’s happening around me.
I just know I don’t want him here. Not near me. And definitely not near her.
Then I feel an arm wrap gently around mine, and I freeze.
“Jax?” Allie pleads from beside me. And it breaks my fucking heart.
I stay exactly where I am. Not budging, but not pulling away from her either. Her touch is the only thing keeping me from lunging right back at him.
“Someone should call the police,” a random bystander says, gripping Richard’s arm like he’s about to collapse.
Dick waves him off. “No, no, that’s okay.”
He shrugs off the stranger—because that’s the kind of dick he is—and when he finally gets his footing, he wipes the corner of his mouth, noticing the red now pooling there.
“Good to know you learned how to punch, Jackie,” he mutters, laughing as he dabs his lip again. “No more being the punching bag, eh?”
I shake my head slowly. “Nope. Now leave.” I nod toward the door.
That’s when Don’s voice booms over everything.
“What the hell is going on?” He pushes through the crowd, eyes snapping between me and Richard before stepping in front of me. “Jax, talk to me. What’s going on?”
But I don’t answer. I can’t. My knuckles are throbbing. My body is shaking with every breath I take.
Richard tsks, then tilts his head. “You know Mum wouldn’t like this very much.”
And I don’t even have to look at him to know the smirk he’s wearing.
“Don’t fucking talk about her,” I growl.
“Oh, come on, Jackie. You can’t seriously still blame me,” he scoffs, throwing his arms out like he’s the fucking victim here. “I wasn’t the one driving the damn car!”
I surge forward, but apparently Allie and Gareth are holding me in place. “Blame you?” I snap, eyes burning. “Who else is there? She wouldn’t have been driving if it wasn’t to rescue your sorry arse—again!”
“Come on, Jax. Let’s go,” Allie pleads, her arm brushing against mine, trying to calm me down.
I suck in a shaky breath, fighting the anger still clawing its way up. When I look down at her, all I can see are unshed tears—tears I’m causing.
My eyes soften, and I nod slowly. “Let’s go, love.”
We step around him, the bell chiming overhead as Don moves to guide us out.
“She could have said no,” Richard mutters the second I pass him.
And then everything goes completely black.
“Jax, no!” Allie screams, panic tearing through her voice.
Pain rips through every tendon in my fist as it slams into Richard’s nose—breaking it without a doubt.
I stand over him, my now cracked knuckles dripping blood onto the floor. Though I’m not entirely sure if it’s mine or his.
“You’re right! She should’ve told you no,” I scream, my throat raw and burning. “But for some fucked up reason, she loved you. Loved you more than herself... and it killed her. You should be the one in the fucking ground. Not her.”
The sound of distant sirens cuts through the air just as the door slams open.
Don barrels in, eyes locked on me, and grabs my arm.
“Alright, Jax,” he says, voice low but firm. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”