Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
A million possibilities burn a path through my mind, taunting me, and I focus on his brother’s death and my family’s potential involvement. “Jax,” I prod, going crazy in my own head right now.
As if my voice snapped him back to the present, as if he was locked in his own mental hell, he takes a deep breath. But still, he doesn’t speak. His spine straightens, and he starts walking, deceptively casual, slow steps that I think will lead him to me, but he cuts toward the sink, steps to it and turns on the water. I blanch, confused at this response. He’s literally washing his hands and even his forearms, his shoulders bunched, instead of speaking to me. Jax isn’t someone to do such a random thing. No. No, that is something I’ve admired about him. He knows who he is and what he wants. He dares to be who he is, to own his place and his actions.
What the hell is this?
“What the hell is this?” I demand voicing my thought, feeling like this is a time bomb about to go off, my heart racing, my adrenaline surging.
I step to the space behind him, at his back as the island is at mine, determined to get answers, but I don’t yell or shout nor does he immediately turn to face me. Nor do I demand that he turn right now and give me an answer despite wanting to do just that. I force calm because that’s what I do. I’m calm. I’m rational and that has nothing to do with my preaching to myself about never making assumptions because assumptions make you look stupid. My mother was always afraid of my father’s contempt for all things stupid. I’m not her, and Jax is not my father, but I recognize that the effects of last night’s events still linger. I recognize that the idea of my family doing bad things is messing with my head.
Jax turns off the water, grabbing a towel to dry his hands, his chin lowering to his chest, an obvious struggle inside him and that calm evaporates. “I can’t take it,” I say. “What’s going on, Jax? What is—”
He tosses the towel and turns around. The next thing I know, he’s pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it. I blink, and he’s leaning forward, planting his hands on the island on either side of me. “Do you know why I just took my shirt off after washing up?”
“You want to have sex?” I ask cautiously, confused right now, my brow furrowing. “Though I’m not sure why you would wash your hands to have sex.”
His expression tightens. “If only we could just have sex and forget the rest of this hell.” He pauses a beat and then adds, “There was an envelope left by the door with your name on it,” he says. “And Savage insisted he test it for toxins. I washed up because I touched the package. I didn’t want to expose you if I’d been exposed. Savage didn’t want me to tell you. He knew I didn’t want you upset.”
I can feel the blood run from my face, demons, my family’s demons, attacking me left and right. They just won’t stop attacking. And this is about my family. It’s clearly all about my family. “What’s in the envelope?”
“Savage is testing it now before we look inside.”
“Before we look?” I ask, worried about the secrets between our families, the possibility of murder in the air. “Did he look?”
“He wanted to. I told him no.”
Heat rushes across my chest and up my neck. “He’s going to look.” I shove against him and slide under his arm, giving myself space, forcing myself to calm my breathing, but my heart is another story. It won’t stop racing. What if my father committed murder? What if my brother knew? What if there’s evidence inside that envelope that proves that? And what does that do to me and Jax?
We face each other, and I point to his phone where it’s resting on the counter. “Call him. I need to see what’s in that envelope. Me. Just me.”
His eyes light, the blue burning amber. “Just you? What happened to us being in this together?”
“Exactly,” I snap back. “Don’t tell me you didn’t plan to hide this from me. Jax, I haven’t known you long, I get that. But I know you well enough to read you now. You want to know what’s in the envelope before I know.”
His jaw tenses, he cuts his stare, and that says all I need to know. “What are we doing Jax?” I demand. “We’re poison to each other.” I turn away and charge toward the bedroom, and I don’t stop at the door. I already found my suitcase and took it to the bathroom. I had to brush my teeth because I imagined myself kissing Jax. I imagined all these wonderful things with him, but that can’t happen now. All I’m doing is setting my brother up for a fall. God, I need to get home to my brother.