Chapter 63
Sixty-Three
NOW | JAX
My head feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my skull and then poured in a bucket of concrete. My eyes stay shut, but I know the voices.
“There’s gotta be something you can do,” Sisk says.
“I told you,” Murtaugh replies, calm in that infuriating scientist way of his. “This isn’t something I can diagnose with conventional parameters. We’re well outside anything resembling normal physiology.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“What’s happening to him is different than anything I’ve seen in all the years I’ve been tracking his behavior,” Murtaugh continues, like he’s discussing a fucking lab rat. “Something fundamental is shifting.”
“Great,” Sisk mutters. “That’s super comforting.”
My eyelids finally drag open.
A sudden gasp. A chair scrapes hard against the floor. “Pits and ashes,” Sisk says. “You’re awake.”
I try to sit up, but the sharp clink of metal stops me cold, and when I look down, I see my wrists are fucking locked to each other in handcuffs.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” My shoulders scream with the need to extend, to pop the joints back into place after however long I’ve been out.
“That was… well,” Murtaugh says carefully, “everyone’s idea.”
“We didn’t know how you’d be,” Sisk adds quickly, like she’s trying to cover her ass. “You know.”
I flex my hands, testing the chain. It’s tight.
My head pounds like a motherfucker, but otherwise—
“I’m fine.”
No one relaxes. Murtaugh steps closer, watching me the way people watch unstable machinery that’s about to explode. “The tar isn’t pushing right now,” he says slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Which means you fed it.”
Sisk shifts, her whole body tensing.
“If you hadn’t,” he continues with his analytical tone, “the pressure would still be building. The behavioral agitation would be escalating.”
I stare at him.
“We’re also off the cycle now,” he adds, like he’s talking about the fucking weather. “Which means we have no idea when it’s going to want more.”
Sisk studies my face like she’s waiting for me to sprout another head. “What happened?” she asks.
“You saw what happened,” I tell her.
“No, Jax,” she says quietly. “After you left.”
I search my memory. The alley. Matt. Tar. Hunger. Then—Nothing. A big, fucking black hole.
My brow tightens. “I…” The harder I try to remember, the emptier it gets. “I can’t remember.”
A voice from the back of the room scoffs. “Convenient,” Viper lets out.
I ignore her. “Why are you all here?” I ask instead, trying to rub my head with the limited movement the cuffs allow.
I look down and curled against my leg is Scotch. He lifts his head slowly when I move, and his tail thumps against the floor.
“He’s been here the whole time,” Sisk says softly. “Day and night.”
I reach down and scratch behind his ear. He sighs like everything is finally back where it belongs.
The back door swings open and Matt stumbles in, already halfway through a bottle of ashbrew.
He stops dead when he sees me. “Oh, thank fuck.”
Every head in the room snaps toward him.
Matt grins, a real shit-eating grin. “Because if you died without me getting the chance to properly make fun of your new… jewelry—” He says the word ‘jewelry’ like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “—I would’ve been extremely pissed.”
When he turns to take a long swig from the bottle, I see it. A raw, red line cuts across his cheek and into his eyebrow, the skin puffy and tight around a neat row of fresh black stitches.
I fight the urge to fucking puke.
“Matt, I—”
“I know,” he says immediately, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re sorry. Whatever.” He points a finger at me, swaying slightly. “What’s pissing me off is you hiding all this shit.” He squints. “You got fucking superpowers now or something, man?”
I roll my eyes so hard I almost see my own brain. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
“Can we please take this seriously?” Murtaugh cuts in.
Only then do I really look around the bar.
It’s a wreck—tables shoved against walls, blankets thrown on the floor under me like I’m some kind of fucking animal they’re trying to keep comfortable.
Empty ashbrew bottles are everywhere, piled alongside a mountain of takeout containers on the counter.
A first aid kit sits open, bandages scattered around it.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Sisk lets out a long breath. “You showed up about eight hours after you ran off,” she says, her arms crossed over her chest. “Covered in blood. We found you passed out in the alley,” she finishes.
Viper just shrugs, looking me over like I’m a piece of shit. “Had to drag your heavy ass inside.”
“We’ve been waiting for you to wake up ever since,” Murtaugh says from the counter, playing doctor with his medical supplies. “Been two days.”
Right on cue, the door swings open, and Lou walks in, juggling two bags of takeout. His face goes pale when he sees me. “You’re awake.”
I nod once. “I’m fine.”
I look down at the cuffs on my wrists. “Can you take these off now?” I glance at Sisk, annoyed.
Everyone in the room looks at each other.
“Sisk?”
Sisk looks between them, then sighs.
“We have to,” she says firmly. “He’s awake. He’s talking. We can’t keep him chained up.”
Still no one moves.
Fine.
I pull, and the cuffs snap like a toy. The broken pieces of clatter onto the floor.
Lou drops one of the takeout bags and noodles spill everywhere.
Everyone else in the room goes still, as if they’re watching a grenade with the pin pulled.
“Well,” Lou says, his voice barely a whisper. “That answers that.”
Sisk grabs a bottle of water from the counter and walks over, sitting beside me. “Here,” she says.
I snatch the bottle, twist the cap, and drain all of it without stopping. I crush the plastic in my hand and look at her. “So what have you told them?”
Sisk leans closer, her fingers fumbling with the broken cuff on my other wrist. “The basics.”
“What basics?”
“You know. We fell in the pit. We made a bargain. We’ve been doomed ever since.”
I shift on the floor, the concrete digging into my ass. “How about the… offspring?”
Sisk looks at me. “You mean the baby?”
Lou freezes mid-bite, a noodle hanging from his mouth. “WHAT baby?” he asks, spraying food.
Sisk pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a long-suffering sigh. Then she launches into it. The whole insane story, laying it all out for the room.
Halfway through, my eyes start to glaze over. My head still feels like a marching band is using my skull for a drum solo.
“Hold up,” Murtaugh says suddenly, cutting through Sisk’s explanation.
Everyone stops.
He’s staring at me, his eyes wide behind his glasses. “You got the surgery?”
I frown. “Yeah.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice laced with scientific curiosity.
Sisk throws her hands in the air. “What do you mean why? Have you heard a single word I’ve been saying?”
“No,” Murtaugh says calmly, ignoring her completely. “I mean biologically.” He leans forward, studying me like I’m a fascinating new species of insect. “You heal.”
Lou looks between us, his face scrunched up in confusion. “You heal? What, like, you cut yourself and it just… goes away? Like a lizard?”
“Yes,” Murtaugh says, his gaze locked on me.
“The procedure wouldn’t hold. Not with your healing ability.
In a normal subject, you’d expect post-operative inflammation and tissue granulation to last for at least a week before the vas deferens could even begin to form a proper occlusive scar.
Then you’d need another two weeks to verify azoospermia through testing.
But with your accelerated cellular regeneration, the severed tissues would likely re-anastomose within hours. At best, it would’ve worked for a day.”
Sisk and I look at each other. The realization hits us both at the exact same time.
“Shit.”
Lou slowly lowers the container.
“And now you’ve got the piercings…” He squints between us, a slow, dawning comprehension on his face.
Everyone stares at him.
“What?” Lou says defensively. “Everyone knows those piercings go right through rubber. I’m just saying—”
Sisk glares. “I take the shot. It’s fine. It’s worked for years. I haven’t had a period since. I don’t ovulate anymore.”
“But the mark just appeared,” Murtaugh says.
“And?” I ask.
Murtaugh hesitates, choosing his words with care. “Jaxwell… you need to talk to your grandfather.”
My head snaps up. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“I don’t know the full details,” he admits, holding his hands up.
“But there’s history between your family and The Pit.
The mark showing up now? That’s not coincidence.
” He spreads his hands. “I think your family knows more than you’ve been told.
We need real information before we can make the best plan. ”
“Plan?” The word stops me cold. “What plan?”
Sisk looks at me, her eyes dead serious. “To keep you from killing one of us next time.”
Matt grins from his spot against the wall. “Or all of us.”
I stare at them. “Are you all out of your damn minds?”
“Jax,” Sisk starts carefully. “You’re…” She searches for the word, her eyes flicking to the broken cuffs on the floor.
“Out of control,” Viper says flatly from her corner. I’d already forgotten she was there, the damn leech.
“I’ll say,” Lou adds, nodding like he’s an expert on my psyche.
Sisk sighs, rubbing her temples. “We need to do something about it.”
I shake my head, a disbelieving laugh escaping my throat. “This is insane.”
“Well,” Matt says, taking a swig of his beer, “so was you lifting me off the ground like a rag doll.”
“Which,” Lou adds, pointing a finger at me, “I would still like to process emotionally.”
Viper leans back against the wall. “So we’re skipping the ‘kill Jax’ plan, then?”
The room goes dead quiet.
I glance around at their faces. “Well,” I mutter, “from the silence I’m guessing that one made the list.”
“She’s kidding, Jax,” Sisk says, her voice too calm, too fast.
“Honestly? Nothing I haven’t considered myself,” I say, leaning back on my hands. “Trust me. The tar’s not a fan of that plan.”
A few uncomfortable looks pass around the room. Matt actually looks nervous.
Murtaugh claps his hands once, trying to wrestle back control of the conversation. “So. Step one: grandfather. As soon as possible.”
“Not tonight,” Sisk says.
Everyone turns toward her, including me.
“Why not?” I ask.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So?” I say, completely lost.
She stares at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. “We have plans.”
I squint at her. “What plans?”
Sisk lowers her voice, leaning in. “The drug guy. Remember? Vic Danner. Down by the docks.”
Matt blinks. “The what guy?”
Lou leans forward instantly. “Oh, I’m interested now.”
“Please tell them your brilliant idea,” I rumble.
She ignores me completely. “Look. The Ash pops. The girls disappearing. The dealers flooding the streets.” She motions toward the city outside. “Tar City’s worse than when we were kids.”
No one argues with that. It’s a fact as solid as the concrete under my ass.
“My sister’s out there,” she continues, her voice losing its casual edge. “Her friends too.” Her voice hardens. “And I finally have a chance to do something about it.” She looks around the room, her gaze challenging every single one of them. “So I’m going.”
“I’m in,” Matt says immediately, raising his hand like a kid in class.
Lou nods, a serious look on his face. “Same.”
Viper just shrugs, a silent, deadly agreement.
I curse under my breath. This is a fucking disaster.
“No. Absolutely not,” I start.
Sisk’s already pointing at all of them. “This is my thing. It’s dangerous and I’m not dragging you fools into it.”
Viper smirks. “Little late for that.” She gestures around the bar. “Looks like we’re already involved.”