Chapter 17 #2
The tight knot in my chest loosened just a little, no words coming to mind—a first for me, actually. Jaxon Cage had rendered me speechless; what was happening to me?
We sat in silence for a few seconds after that. Not the awkward kind—the kind that brought comfort in a way nothing else did these days.
“Thank you,” I finally murmured.
“Always, trouble.”
The nickname didn’t feel like teasing this time. It felt… gentle.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, quieter now.
“Anything.”
I hesitated, thumb brushing the edge of my phone. “That chain you wear. You never take it off. Not even when we were in the water.”
There was a pause long enough that I wondered if I’d crossed a line.
“It’s just a chain,” he said, his voice taking a cooler tone. Then he exhaled. “The chain means nothing, but the pendant was my sister’s. She wore it on her bracelet,” he added with a soft, sad chuckle. “Wouldn’t take it off. Said it was her lucky charm.”
“Lyra? God, she used to drive the teachers insane. I remember when her entire class ended up covered in slime. I guess she takes after her brother in that sense,” I teased, letting out a small laugh. “Where is she now?”
“She died,” he said quietly. “A few years back.”
“Jaxon… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t respond right away. When he did, his voice sounded distant, like he was dragging himself back to the memory.
“It was my car,” he started. “It was the first house party of the summer—the first day of leaving high school bullshit behind.
I had the hockey scholarship, and I was ready to celebrate the highs before Kingsview in the fall.
That night, I was trying to get this girl upstairs.
I can't even remember who now, that's how little it mattered.
Someone was tugging on my jacket and when I turned around, there she was.
Lyra was crying about how she wanted to go home.
It was her first party—one she snuck into, mind you.
I just figured she was having first-party jitters. I should've listened more.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I told her we’d leave soon. It's mind-blowing how focused I was on getting pussy that I wasn't even focused on my own sister crying. She came back two times, asking again and again, and I got annoyed, so I gave her the keys.”
My throat burned.
“I was teaching her how to drive back then—thought it’d be good practice or whatever.
” His voice hardened. “But fuck, I didn’t think she’d actually drive off.
She was barely sixteen, Savannah. I told her to wait in the car and I'd be back.
She wasn't supposed to move. I told her to wait because I was too busy thinking about myself. About getting laid.”
I could hear the regret clawing its way through every word.
“I was about to go upstairs when the guys ran up to me. She barely made it around the block—crashed head-on into a tree.”
I pressed a hand to my chest like it might’ve kept my heart from shattering.
“I should’ve left with her,” he said flatly. “I should’ve stopped for five seconds and thought.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that. You were young. You couldn’t have known—”
He laughed, bitter and hollow. “I could’ve known. I just didn’t care enough to check.”
“Jaxon.”
Silence stretched again, thicker this time.
“That summer,” he continued, “everything changed. I moved down to Sunset Creek, and I was angry at everyone, at myself most of all. Picked fights anywhere I could find them and didn't care about the consequences. Funny enough,” he added, “that’s how I met Benji.”
“Benji?”
“Yeah. I was fighting Carter. You may remember him. I found out he was the reason my sister was so upset that night. He was my best friend, and he was screwing my sister behind my back then had the nerve to fuck someone else. Things got ugly fast, and someone called the cops. At some point, Benji stepped in and tried to break us apart. We all got arrested that night.”
I let out a soft, disbelieving breath. “So when you heard about Chase…”
“Yeah, trouble. I didn't need a reason to help you out with this. Cheating was the reason I lost my sister, and I fucking hate cheaters. I'd never do something like that.”
The conviction in his voice sent butterflies in my stomach.
“Benji bailed us out,” Jaxon said, his tone taking a lighter tone.
“I was pissed at him for it, too. I didn't want any handouts, not with the guilt that was burying me alive. But Benji’s patience is unmatched. He heard everything I was shouting at Carter and practically took me in. Bastard let me crash at his place for a few months on the condition that I went to therapy,” he added with a chuckle.
My chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with desire now. It was tenderness.
Understanding.
“Which is why you said you'd do this because Benji asked, and Benji doesn't ask for anything.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m really glad you have him,” I said quietly.
“Me too,” he replied. “I'd probably be following in my sister's footsteps if it wasn't for him.”
Another pause.
“I keep the pendant,” he added softly, “because it reminds me to slow down. To think. To not be that guy anymore.”
My eyes burned.
“You’re not,” I whispered. “That guy.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I said firmly. “I remember who you were back then and I’ve seen enough to know. You're not the same guy anymore.”
The line went quiet again, but this time it felt different. Lighter. Like something unburdened.
And for the first time since the weekend, I realized the pull I felt toward Jaxon wasn’t just heat or impulse.
It was the gravity of knowing someone’s broken pieces and fighting the urge to put them back together.