45
ETHAN
Fucking Jackson.
The night is pitch-black. There are no windows, no light filtering outside—only blackness. I can’t see a foot in front of me.
Why are there no outdoor lights on?
Jax avoided meeting my eyes the entire drive, his knee bouncing. When I went to talk to him, he slammed the door in my face.
He was adamant about getting his motorcycle tonight, despite having no interest in riding prior. Grant left with a girl, and Jax still wanted his bike.
He’s unpredictable, all over the place lately. My fear is he’s taking off. He arranged for us to succeed without him—he transferred everything in our names and provided evidence to Reece—and now, he’s targeting Hugo.
I edge around the garage in search of another entrance. Thorny bushes snag my clothes and scratch my face, adding to my irritation. When I get my hands on him… I don’t know whether I’ll wring his neck or plead with him to stay.
Wring his neck and demand he stay—that’s more my style.
Maybe Reece is right, and I’m too easy on him.
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs, and will my agitation to calm the fuck down. It’s pointless; my chest still aches.
Earlier, I received a text from Robert stating Anaheim offered to buy out Jackson’s contract and management was taking the long weekend to consider it. I wanted to rage, but I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t ruining Aurora’s Thanksgiving with her grandmother.
It’s only an offer , I told myself. Nothing has been confirmed . But the longer I stewed, the angrier I became. Then, we ended up at the same bar—which we should’ve never stepped foot in—as Robert’s family?
Bullshit.
So, I watched Jackson tee-hee with Grant, like my world wasn’t collapsing, and grew increasingly aggravated.
Even with our relationship, I have a hard time believing management would be foolish enough to trade Jax in the middle of the season. They’d let me go first. He initiated the trade. That’s the only explanation.
Anaheim is an hour away; he can still live at home, but does he plan on traveling with Aurora and my baby?
The knife twists deeper in my gut. He wouldn’t fucking dare.
The ground suddenly drops behind the building, and I stumble, losing my footing. I instinctively reach out and find the wall to keep from falling. For a moment, I’m disoriented until a rumble breaks the silence, and I jolt.
A garage door. He must be exiting through the back.
I sneak closer, pressed to the cold stucco. A chill runs down my spine, and my arms bristle with goosebumps.
The door retracts, and light from inside illuminates the property.
It’s not at all what I envisioned—at least, not compared to the front.
The view from the gate was limited, a glimpse of the pristine white mansion blending into the hillside.
The shrubbery obscured everything beyond the house and garage.
Before me appears to be a courtyard, but unlike ours, which is breezy and colorful, this is overgrown and eerie, with bare trees reaching into the dark sky. It reminds me of a creepy graveyard. No tombstones, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few.
Jax guides his bike onto the stone path from the garage, and I hold my breath, remaining as quiet as possible. Gears whine and metal clanks as he parks the bike. He turns away, and I seize the opportunity to jump out and wrap him in a headlock.
“Going somewhere?” I growl.
Without hesitation, he throws his head back, colliding with my mouth.
Sharp pain radiates through my jaw, the metallic taste of blood flooding my tongue. My teeth now have a pulse.
I’m not sure how I expected him to respond to being surprised in the dark, but fuck !
I stagger back and spit blood.
Jax spins around, fists raised and poised for a fight. Recognition strikes him, and his harsh facade crumbles. “Ethan? What the fuck?” Horror resonates in his voice, each word becoming more elevated.
This will hurt him as much as me, but I’ll heal. Jax will carry this mental torment far longer.
I cup my chin and draw my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. By chance, my teeth didn’t completely break through.
The laceration is bleeding profusely, mixing with pooling saliva. The pain in my jaw is bone-deep. My mouth pulsates, likely to swell, but none of my teeth are loose—thank fuck.
“Sorry,” I rasp and roll my stiff neck to assess the damage. It’s not terrible, nothing urgent, but the headache piercing my skull sends waves of nausea through my stomach, and I wince.
Feral green eyes meet mine. “Why?” He clutches his head. “Why would you do that?”
“I…” Why did I sneak up on him? Why did I surprise him in this creepy-ass place? I was seething and acted out of spite. “I wasn’t thinking. I was pissed you were taking off.”
Blood and saliva fill my mouth once again, and I spit, wiping my chin with the back of my hand. It burns like hell, and when I bring my hand away, it’s covered in bright-red blood. Another injury? It’s tough to pinpoint when everything hurts.
His intense gaze fixates on the blood. He clenches his jaw, pulls at his hair, and lets out a stifled scream. His anguish is my own, and my chest constricts.
I step forward, seize his wrists, and guide them around my neck. “Stop.” I wrap him in my arms and weave my fingers through his hair. “Shh. It looks worse than it is.”
He buries his face in the crook of my neck and sucks in shuddering breaths. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His heart pounds violently, and I feel the wetness of his tears on my skin.
Jax puts on a tough exterior, but he feels deeply, loves deeply. The torture it must have been to be him in a world of monsters.
I rest my cheek on his head, resisting the impulse to kiss his temple. It’s not like I can without getting blood all over him anyhow. “I’m okay, Jax. This is my fault.”
He pulls back, his lashes glistening. “No, you’re not.” He tips my chin with trembling fingers and grimaces. “I need to take you to the hospital.”
“Reece is on his way. I’ll have him check it out.”
He narrows his eyes and drops his hand. “You called him .”
I grasp his wrist. “How else were we getting home? Would you rather it be the twins?”
He scowls. “I wasn’t going home.”
“I know,” I snap, once again irritated. “Why do you think I’m out here and Reece is on his way? You’re not leaving. We'll handle Hugo.”
We glare at each other, neither of us willing to back down. A gust of wind howls through the trees and rustles the leaves, and he shivers. He's only in a T-shirt.
“Where’s your button-up?”
“I was going back in for my riding jacket, Dad .” He twists and jerks his arm.
“Don’t.” I tighten my hold. “I will tackle you to the ground and sit on you.”
The thought makes me smile, and I quickly regret it when pain splinters through my mouth. I glide my tongue over my swollen bottom lip, and the pungent metallic taste of blood churns my stomach.
His gaze traces the movement, and he frowns.
“Is it that bad?” I ask.
“Fucking awful. Aurora is going to flip.”
His eyes well with tears, and I draw him into my chest. I find the hem of his shirt and slip my fingers underneath. He doesn’t push me away. His muscular arms encircle my torso, and his body melts into me. He rarely shows me this much affection, and I find I like it—a lot.
Maybe I’m too attached. Maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.
No, fuck that. I can’t imagine Jax playing for anyone else. I’d go mad.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispers.
“I know you are.” I trail my fingertips along his spine. “I’m sorry too.”
His breath hitches, becoming shallow and rapid.
“What’s going on, Jax? Tell me.”
He releases a heavy sigh. “Nothing.”
“Tell me. Let me fix it.”
If it’s Hugo, Reece and I can deal with it. If he doesn’t want to be on the same team as me…well, too fucking bad.
“Nothing to fix.” His forehead drops to my shoulder. “I’m in love with you.”
Ice flows through my veins, then lava as his words hit home.
A grin tugs at my lips, causing a sting, yet I can’t stop, nor can I suppress the chuckle that vibrates my chest. “I know.”
Even though I sensed it, it’s still a relief to hear.
“You’re such an asshole.” He struggles to separate, but I refuse. “Let me go, you big bastard.”
I scoff. “Big bastard?” That’s fine. I can top that. “I’m loving you right now,” I lower my tone and rumble, “ baby boy. ”
He lifts his head to meet my eyes, his pupils dilated. “Do you have a concussion? Did you lose consciousness?”
“Only for a minute,” I joke.
Before I can react, his lips press to my neck and his teeth sink into my skin.
A shudder runs through me, and goosebumps erupt over my arms. I fist his hair, not sure what else to do. “We need to talk about this.”
“Why? You love me,” he says against my throat, a grin clear in his voice. “You should stop fighting it.”
Confused, I pull back, brows furrowed. “I’m not.”
He cocks his head. “Don’t lie. You didn’t even want to be seen together tonight.”
I open my mouth to argue when footsteps echo off the brick walkway.
“Holy fuck. What happened to you?”