Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
NOW | JAX
I’m so fucking tired—angry and stupidly relieved she’s here—that the mix of it twists inside me until I realize I’m crushing the metal ashtray, bending it clean out of shape.
The bedroom door opens and I automatically turn.
In the blink of an eye, it’s like I’m eighteen again, every thought ending with me needing to break something just to cool off, to keep from giving in to the urge to take her like an animal.
One glance at her and it’s enough for my dick to go into high alert.
All these years later and I’m still just as crazy for her. But hell, she drives me fucking mad.
She’s wearing one of my shirts, hanging off one shoulder.
No pants, because why would she bother. She looks comfortable.
I know I should have asked her to move in years ago, I just couldn’t.
Back then I still had some stupid fucking hope that she could walk away from me and live a better life.
Now she’s here, and a part of me is so goddamn happy, while the other part is screaming that I’ve just sealed her fate by letting her stay.
She’s always been my one blind spot. The one person I can’t stay angry at for long. Not today. I force my gaze back to the window. I’m allowed to stay pissed for at least another minute. She needs to understand she can’t keep playing games where her safety’s on the line.
“You’ve been quiet since O opened his mouth this morning,” she says, plucking the cigarette from my fingers. “What’s going on? Already regretting me moving in?” She takes a drag, then shoves it back between my lips.
Smoke leaves my lips as I flick ash into the now-distorted bowl. I drag another breath in before answering. “When were you planning on filling me in on your little plan?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down. “Or was I just supposed to keep showing up and fighting whoever you point at?”
“I’m sorry.”
I look at her.
“I mean it,” she says again, stepping closer. “I should’ve told you.”
“Yeah,” I grit out. “You should’ve.”
I stub the cigarette out. “I’ve got a business to run, Sisk.
A bar full of idiots who think they’re invincible.
Suppliers. Staff. Bills. Guys who think they can test me because they heard rumors.
” I shake my head. “I don’t get to just go play underground fighter every time you decide to start a war. ”
She folds her arms, defensive now. “I didn’t ask you to fight for fun.”
“No,” I snap. “You made it necessary.”
“Because someone has to stop it. You have no idea how bad it is,” she continues, voice rising. “Girls disappearing into that shit. Losing themselves. Losing everything. Millie—” Her voice cracks. “She’s getting worse, Jax. I’m not just going to sit and watch.”
I look away.
She presses on. “Before you say anything—yes, I know you’ve been checking on her and my parents. I know. But I’m not moving in here unless I know they’re okay. Safe.”
I rub my jaw.
“And… we still need to go see Murtaugh,” she adds. “Let him look at you. Your blood. Whatever this is. You heard what O said.”
I let out a humorless breath. “Yeah. Let’s go ask the neighborhood witch doctor to fix me.”
Her face hardens. “Stop.”
“Nobody can fix this,” I say. “Trust me.” I stare back out the window. “Honestly?” I mutter. “Sometimes I wish this whole thing would just end.”
Her voice dips. “What do you mean by this whole thing?”
I keep staring outside.
“You wouldn’t,” she says quietly. Her hand grabs my arm, forcing me to look at her. “You wouldn’t,” she repeats, softer now.
I hold her gaze too long, and that’s answer enough.
Her face goes pale. “…You tried,” she whispers.
I exhale slowly. “Yeah.” The word lands heavy between us.
Her hand trembles against my arm. “Jax…”
I shrug, like it’s nothing. “Didn’t work. Nothing ever kills me when it should.”
Her other hand comes up, gripping my shirt now. “You idiot,” she breathes. “You absolute idiot.” She pulls me into her. I almost let myself lean into it, but anger’s easier than this. Much easier, because she cares, and I don’t know how to live with that.
“You would leave me alone here?” she snaps, pulling back. “In this shit hole? After everything?”
“Don’t you get it?” I fire back. “I’m the reason your life looks like this now. Since that fucking night, it’s all been—”
“No.” She cuts me off. “You don’t get to turn that night into anything but you saving me. I won’t let you.”
“I—”
“I know you regret your bargain but—”
I look straight at her. “I don’t regret it.”
She blinks. “What?”
“I’d do it all over again,” I say. “Every fucking time. To save you.” My jaw tightens. “I just… wish I could stay away. Every time I try, it’s like the fucking tar just drags me back.”
Her eyes narrow. “So The Pit brings you to me now?”
I laugh bitterly. “No. Yeah. I mean—no.”
She grabs the first thing within reach—a notebook from the coffee table—and hurls it at me. I stop the magic and let it smack my shoulder.
“Does the tar make you write all these poems too, Jax?” she shouts. “You know what? You are a fucking coward.”
I don’t move. She comes close and shoves me, hard. Again. And again.
“Say it!” she demands. “Say how you actually feel!” Her fists slam against my chest.
“Say you love me!” she screams. “Or say you don’t and let me finally move on!”
“You think this is easy for me?” I shoot back, my own voice rising. “Watching you walk straight into hell every time you decide to fix something broken? Knowing one day I won’t get there in time?”
“Do not change the subject! Tell me how you feel!”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“Because it would mean this… can work, and it can’t.” I choke out.
She looks at me. “You asked me to move in.”
“I don’t know what to do!” I roar, the frustration finally boiling over. “I don’t know how to be close to you without breaking you! I don’t know how to want you and not destroy you! I’m trying to protect you, and all I do is hurt you more!”
“Then say it,” she whispers, her voice a fragile thread. “Just say it, Jax. I need to hear it.”
My throat tightens with the anger, fear, guilt, relief—all of it tangled so tight I can barely breathe. The last thread snaps and I grab her hair. I spin her and push her back against the wall, my body pinning hers. Her eyes go wide, shock warring with the fire still burning there.
“I love you,” I growl, the words torn out of me, ugly and undeniable. “I’ve always fucking loved you. Even when I hated you. Even when I tried to stay away. But I just can’t, even if I still think you’d be safer far away from me.”
My mouth touches hers and I pour every shred of my frustration, my fear, my fucked-up obsession into it. She kisses me back just as hard, meeting my violence with her own. It’s a fight, a war, and we’re both losing.
My hand fists in the front of her shirt, and with a sharp, angry sound, I rip, the fabric tears down the middle.
I don’t give her a chance to react. My mouth is on her neck, biting, sucking, marking her.
My hands are everywhere, my mouth is everywhere.
I need to claim every inch of her. I don’t think I can control myself any longer.
We fucked just a few hours ago. She has to be sore, but if I have my way, she’ll always be a little sore from now on—a constant, tender reminder of me.
And right now? I need more. So much more.
Probably a bad idea to let myself admit what I want, what the monster wants, because this hunger is so vast it’s swallowing me whole.
It’s not enough. It will never be enough.
“Lose control, Jax,” she begs.
“Careful,” I warn her.
I grab her ass and one of her legs wraps around my waist, and I slam her back against the wall, pinning her there with my body.
I’m still so angry, so full of rage, but it’s all tangled up with a lust so powerful it scares me.
I need to be inside her. I need to lose myself in her, to fuck away the pain, the fear, the love that’s eating me alive.
I fumble with my jeans, shoving them down, then I hook my fingers into the side of her underwear, the thin fabric damp with her need, and I don’t even bother pulling it down, I just yank it roughly to the side.
Before I can stop myself, I slide two fingers into her pussy, checking, testing. She’s fucking soaked. I bring my glistening fingers to my lips, my eyes locked on hers as I savor her.
“Look at that,” I drawl, watching her. “If it isn’t the prey getting wet when the monster is near. Are you scared, little rabbit?”
“If it is,” she whispers, “then what does that say about the monster… if he’s the one trembling?”
I kiss her, all teeth and fury, then I’m lining myself up, and with one hard, deep thrust, I’m inside her, stealing the air from both of our lungs.
My hand comes up to wrap around her throat because she’s right—Riot, Jax, every dark thing I am, even the fucking tar itself—the whole monster club inside me gets off on watching her be dominated.
She moans, a sound that’s all surrender, and I tighten my grip enough to make her feel owned.
I thrust again and like I’m surrendering, the magic takes over.
An invisible force lifts her completely off the ground.
I adjust her without touching her, the magic shifting her hips, tilting her exactly where I need her until the angle is perfect—until I’m so deep inside her I can feel her in my fucking soul.
Her back presses harder into the wall, the sudden weightlessness stealing a shaky gasp from her as she realizes what’s happening. Her legs lock around my waist now, both of them, instinctively holding on as she floats there, suspended between the wall and my body.
“Jax—” she breathes, half shock, half pleasure as she realizes how much control I have over her.
She’s weightless in my arms, completely at my mercy, and the power of it is a heady, intoxicating rush.
My desperation pouring into every brutal thrust, and she meets me stroke for stroke.
Her hips roll to meet mine, her nails raking down my back, leaving stinging trails.
And then I really let go. I’m not fucking her anymore; I’m conducting an orchestra with her body.
I use the magic to move her, to lift her higher, to slam her back down onto my cock, over and over, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm that has her screaming in seconds.
I’m just standing there, watching her, watching the way her body responds to me, to the power I have over her.
It’s the most fucking erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I'll be damned if it isn't maddening.
The magic surges, an extension of my own sick need.
An invisible force grips her knees, pulling them wider, spreading her open until she’s completely exposed to me, her body stretched taut in mid-air.
I can see everything—see myself disappearing into her, see the slick evidence of her arousal coating my cock with every brutal, magic-fueled thrust. Her hands scrabble uselessly against the wall, her head thrown back in a silent scream of pure, overwhelming pleasure.
I’m not just inside her; I’m everywhere.
I’m in the air she can’t breathe and in the invisible hands holding her legs apart.
I am the fucking architect of her undoing, and I have never felt more powerful, more terrifyingly alive.
Her pussy clamps down on me and it’s the final push I need.
The coil in my spine snaps, and my own orgasm tears through me, violent and absolute.
It’s not a release; it’s a fucking demolition.
My body jackknifes, and I cum so hard it feels like it’s being ripped from my core, every muscle seizing as I pour myself and my power into her.
I press my forehead to hers, both of us fighting for air. Her hands slide up into my hair. “Promise me one thing,” she whispers, voice still trembling.
“Anything,” I breathe, still inside her, not ready to let go.
Her eyes search mine, scared and stubborn all at once. “Don’t ever try to leave me again.”
The words hit me so hard I swear my fucking knees buckle.
“I fucking love you,” I growl, the words ripped from my throat like they’re tearing me open.
“I love you so goddamn much I’m scared shitless of what the tar will make me do to keep you.
You’re everything, Sisk. My fucking everything.
I’ll burn the world down, I’ll rip the sky apart, I’ll turn into the worst monster this world’s ever seen—whatever it takes—to keep you.
No one’s taking you from me again. Not ever.
I’m done fighting it. I’m all yours. And if you ever doubt that, I’ll make you feel it in every fucking bone in your body. ”
Only then do I finally pull back and slide out of her, setting her gently on her feet. She pushes herself up, presses a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek. “Bad boy… you’re just a big softie, aren’t you?”
I grin, pulling her closer. “Careful. My dick might take that as a personal challenge.”
Then all the humor fades from her face. “I fucking love you too, Jax.”
I kiss her.
She pats my chest. “Now, put your non-negotiable pants on. We’re gonna be late.”