Chapter 64
Sixty-Four
THEN | SISK
The hands slowly release me, but I can’t see a thing; it’s pitch black. I shove backward hard, elbow striking solid muscle. The body behind me doesn’t budge.
“Let me out!” I yell.
I scream again, then, the man, because of course it’s a man, tsks, his tongue clicking against his teeth.
“Ballerina, ballerina…” he drawls. “No need to scream. When the lights go out and this city gets hungry, remember I’m the one who eats in the dark.” A pause. “And I lick before I bite.”
My body shakes. “Jax?”
He chuckles, a dark, warm sound as he moves closer. His hand tightens briefly around my throat and before I can react, his tongue drags slowly across my cheek. A faint, reddish glow bleeds into the darkness in front of me.
“Your… eyes.”
My breath hitches as I realize they’re glowing—not just reflecting, but emitting a deep, unsettling red from within. It’s not human. It’s impossible. My mind scrambles frantically for an explanation that doesn’t exist.
“Oh, right.” He sounds amused. “They do that now. Little gift from our cursed underground friend.” He tilts his head. “You like them?”
“Jax, open the door.”
“Imagine my surprise,” he continues, ignoring me, “when I came here to do business with a supplier and noticed you standing all alone in that corridor like a lost little rabbit.” His mouth brushes my lips. “I don’t like seeing you here, this isn’t a place for good girls Sisk.”
“Let me go or I will scream. You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore. Do you hear me?”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. It’s been years. I’ve moved on. Let me go.”
“Moved on?”
“Yes. I’m engaged.”
That shuts him up.
His hand leaves my neck, but it doesn’t leave my body. It slides slowly down my arm, a trail of heat that makes me tremble. He moves until his fingers brush the ring. I can’t stop the full-body shiver that runs through me and I hate that he can feel it.
The lights flick on, but I swear his other hand was already on my hip, steadying me, holding me in place. It’s dim but enough to sting my eyes after the dark. I blink, trying to focus, trying to ignore the way my whole body is reacting to him.
“Your hair,” he says, his fingers tangling immediately in the dark roots before sliding down the length of it until he reaches the bottom where the color shifts, his fingers stopping there to trace the stark, white ends.
I glare at him, trying to pull away, but his grip on my hip is like iron. “Yes, Jax. I changed my hair. Can you open the fucking door now?”
His gaze drags over me like he’s taking inventory, and unfortunately, my eyes do the same.
He’s wearing a black t-shirt that stretches tight across his chest, and I can see the new lines of his muscles.
I scan his arms, looking for the familiar tattoos.
The thorn vine he had wrapped around his bicep is gone.
In its place is a stark, geometric pattern of interlocking lines that looks nothing like anything I’ve seen before.
My brain stumbles, trying to make sense of it.
Did he just… get it covered? Erased? It makes no sense.
My gaze shifts higher. There’s a heavier scruff along his jaw, but the stupid nose ring is still there.
His mouth curves slightly, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “You think it’s coincidence,” he asks softly, “fate, or just tar pit magic shit that we keep running into each other like this?”
I already know the answer, which is nothing less than terrifying, but I don’t admit it. “I don’t care what you think it is. My fiancé is probably losing his mind right now, so open the door before I start screaming for help.”
“Go ahead,” he says lightly. “Soundproof room. Who knows what happens in here. Although I can guess. My money’s on shibari, over-the-knee spanking, maybe a bit of primal play. Seems to be the specialty of the house.”
My face flushes hot. Has he… done those things? With who? The thought sends a sick jolt through me.
He steps closer and I step back.
He leans in, his body pressing against mine, trapping me against the door.
His voice drops to a low, intimate whisper that sounds like a threat.
“Tell me, ballerina, has your polished new life taught you any of those words? Or are you still just my little rabbit, all teeth and no idea what to do when you’re caught?
Although, I always did like it when you tried to fight back. ”
“I’m not the same girl you knew. I’m engaged. I have a life.” I spit out, trying to sound brave, trying not to let him hear how fast my heart is hammering.
“Is that so?” he teases, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You seem pretty much the same to me. All fired up. Ready to bite.”
“And you’re the same asshole,” I gasp, shoving at his chest, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall.
He chuckles. “Fuck, I missed the way you call me names. It used to turn me on. Makes my cock hard now, too. You think you can just pretend you’re innocent? You think you can erase what we were?”
“I didn’t erase anything,” I snap, my voice rising. “And I don’t need your games.”
“Games?” He pulls back, his monstrous red eyes unreadable. “Is that what you call it? You think you can walk away from this? You think I haven’t tried it myself?”
“You… you disappeared.” I say, my voice shaking slightly.
“Disappeared?” He laughs. “I never left this place. I did what I needed to do. You are the one who left, remember?”
“You knew where I was, and you never came looking. You made it pretty obvious you were done with me. So what do you want now, Jax?”
He stares at me for a long moment. “You’re right about one thing,” he says softly.
“I knew where you were. I know you dance principal for the City Ballet now, even though you’re still listed as second soloist on their brochure.
I know you eat those cheap shrimp noodles on your tiny balcony every Monday after a long rehearsal.
I know you have a favorite spot by the window at that little cafe on Elm, the one where you always order the black coffee and pretend to read a book. ”
My blood runs cold. How? How could he possibly know any of that?
“So yes,” he continues, his voice roughens, and his eyes burn into me. “I saw you were better off, so I stayed away. But you still have this power over me, and now… seeing you this close again, in this dirty place… I can’t control myself. I need my rabbit fix.”
His hand slides from my hip, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of my stomach before his palm presses flat right above the waistband of my jeans.
His thumb hooks into the denim, “Tell me,” he murmurs again, “Is your pussy clenching and soaked for me too, or are you really missing your fiancé on the other side of this door?”
I inhale, “Missing my fiancé,” I lie, and I know he knows. The words feel hollow and brittle.
When he leans in, I’m sure he’s about to kiss me. Instead—the lock clicks.
He steps back, one hand on the door, that familiar taunting grin already forming. “After you,” he says. His eyes flick toward the hallway behind me. “Please, pleeease tell me your fiancé… it’s none other than boring, fucking, gentle Lucas.”
It takes no time for Lucas to rush toward me, pulling me into his arms. “I was—where did you—who’s this?”
“Lucas,” I say tightly. “This is Jax.”
“Well, well,” Jax says smoothly, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “Heard a lot about you, Lucas.”
“Funny,” Lucas replies evenly, his jaw tight as he extends a hand. “Because I haven’t heard a word about you. Jax, is it?”
They shake. A silent, territorial battle passes between them. This can’t be good.
“Can I offer you both a drink?” Jax asks, his tone deceptively casual.
“You work here now?” I ask.
“No.” He grins. “Come on. It’s on the house. My bar. You two can be my first customers.”
“Your bar?”
Jax pushes open the side exit. “Still fixing it up,” he says as we step outside. “Soon it’ll be the best place to forget about this city. Thinking about calling it The Pitfall.”
I shake my head, a headache already forming.
“What, you don’t like it?”
“We can’t, Jax,” I say firmly. “We have plans.”
“Come on.” He throws an arm around Lucas’s shoulders. “Don’t you have a second for an old friend? I want to know all about this… engagement.” He squeezes slightly. “What do you say, Lucas? Up for some good old Tar City fun?”
I’m already turning away when I hear Lucas say, “Sure. Why not.”
I look at him, incredulous. “What?”
“You said you wanted me to see this place.”
“Perfect,” Jax says, his taunting grin widening. “This should be fun.”
I roll my eyes.
“We can’t all fit on my bike though,” he adds. “Hold on.”
He disappears and comes back minutes later with his friend, the bartender.
“You don’t mind if Sisk rides with me, right, Lucas?” Jax asks, already swinging a leg over his bike. “Promise I won’t steal your girl.”
Lucas hesitates, his gaze darting between the two menacing motorcycles.
“I don’t bite,” Matt tells him.
Lucas exhales, a sound of pure resignation. “Fine.”
I stare at all of them. Unbelievable.
“I know what you’re doing,” I say before climbing on behind Jax, my movements stiff with defiance.
“What?” Jax calls over the rumble of the engine. “I’m just being nice.”
He revs the bike. “Watch your hands, Miss.”
“Fuck you,” I reply.
He chuckles.
* * *
By the time the engines stop, I’ve already put space between my body and the memory of my arms around Jax’s.
Jax kicks the stand down. “Home sweet home,” he says.
Lucas steps in, meticulously straightening his coat before removing it carefully, folding it neatly over his arm like we’re entering a restaurant instead of whatever this is.
Inside, the place is half-gutted. The floors are dusted with plaster. There are wires hanging from the ceiling like vines, and a long slab of unfinished wood rests on barrels where the bar will be.
“So when you said bar, you meant…” Lucas gestures to the place, his voice tight with forced politeness.