“You.”

“But why?”

What did she mean why? He just did. She was the one constant in his life. She’d always been the girl that depended on him and didn’t know it. She’d given him purpose – to look out for someone when everything around him collapsed. And then suddenly he’d wanted her to know it and he wanted her to feel it – that dependency. Maybe it was to feel important to someone, or maybe it was him latching onto one good thing after the shit he went through. Regardless, it manifested into love, and the way he felt for her was unconditional.

“I just do,” he answered.

She nodded but said nothing else.

He moved up the bed and took her into his arms. He was sure she could hear the violent thumping of his heart; this was the reaction she gave him every time she was near. For once he didn’t care about hiding it. He wanted her to know he was hers. She needed to see how in love he was with her. If she knew then maybe… just maybe she’d move on from him once and for all.

Jaxon

Well, nothing could fucking suck more. He was the lowest of the low.

What were the fucking chances she would be here tonight? And to fucking boot, she’d caught him in a situation he wouldn’t have been able to defend against no matter how hard he tried.

Even though he hadn’t done shit. Not since her anyway. He’d kissed the woman, went to push her away from his pants, and then found Sara standing there. Fucking lovely.

Fucking Finley was always watching him, always throwing women in his face and waiting for him to act like he did long before she’d resurfaced. The more he did it, the more he hated him. Finley was a poison that latched onto everything in its wake. He was cunning, manipulative, and self-serving in every way. If Jaxon didn’t start stepping it up again, Finley would take matters into his own hands. And the last thing Jaxon wanted was Sara targeted because of a psychotic prick who wanted to control every living thing around him.

It made sense to him. If she was out of the picture, Jaxon would be straight back on the bandwagon as before. He’d been suspecting for a long while that he’d been the one to send out the killer as a means to rid Jaxon of his distraction and sudden moral dilemma. Before she’d come along, he’d been ruthless. Now… now not so much.

He stood up and left the empty room he had pretended to be reserved in. He ambled down the hallway of the bar, over passed out bodies and half naked women. He felt numb… and pathetic. How had he been tricked into this disgusting lifestyle? How could he have allowed himself to get so desperate?

Now he was just another chess piece in Finley’s well-orchestrated life. And he’d just reached his limit.

He stood outside and stared at the spot she’d stood in, holding him. She’d been crying. He couldn’t remove the image from his mind, and as much as he wanted to tell her what she saw was wrong that moment, he couldn’t do it without Remy blowing up to pieces. He’d tried hard lately to convey to Finley that she’d been forgotten, a blow up from Remy would have fucked it all up.

God, she went home with him. That fucking obsessive lunatic! Had they… Had they fucked? Jaxon gulped and shut his eyes. God, he hoped not. She better not have. Fuck, if she did… He took in a shaky breath as his eyes raked the spot once more. If she did? With him? After all he’d done to Jaxon? He wouldn’t be able to look at her the same again.

He heard the door open behind him.

“You alright, bro?” asked Damien.

“No,” answered Jaxon, feeling like his throat was on fucking fire. “I can’t do this anymore, man. I want out of this fucking club, out of this lifestyle…”

“You got one man standing in the way of that.”

“And he’s got everyone wrapped around his little finger.”

“No,” Damien disagreed. “He doesn’t.”

Jaxon looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Derek and Mark are in there saying he was talkin’ to the Jackal Prez about under the table bribes. They didn’t think they were being listened to. Apparently Manny’s been pocketing money from the mafia out east.”

“Why?”

“Using his trucks to transport their weapons.”

“And the club doesn’t know about this?”

Damien shook his head and smirked. “Apparently not.”

“And why the fuck was he telling Finley this?”

“Finley’s got connections to more organized crime bosses than the Prez. He wants to bring him into the loop to get the names across and offer the same business deal. Finley, being the businessman that he is–”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Yeah, man. The word’s spreading and everyone’s on the down low. Don’t want him to know we know, you know? Shit, that was confusing…”

Jaxon sighed and gave his good friend a hard pat on the back. “Tell everyone to keep an eye out then. We may very well find a way to bury these fuckers.”

Then he sent a text to his trustworthy informant.

Shit is brewing and I’m going to need you.

*****

One look. That’s all it took and Jaxon was being motioned over to where the calm and collected man sat in the corner of the prison yard.

Finley.

He was the leader of the most feared gang there. At least fifteen of his men surrounded him, eyeing Jaxon with deadly looks that he had to pretend he wasn’t intimidated by. Then he stopped, gulped down the need to grimace in his recent agony, and stared at their leader.

He had a deceptively friendly face. You knew there was a simmer there behind those eyes, and you wished he’d just show his cards like all the other psychos in the yard playing leader and screaming their obscenities. No, this man was reserved, too much of a higher esteem than the rest of them. And that made it fucking worse.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, voice low and inquisitive. He leaned back in his chair – a plush chair that the others didn’t have for themselves and that no one in the yard had acquired from the guards – and dangled a lighter in his hands.

Jaxon made sure to keep his eyes drawn away. Making eye contact had landed him in a fair amount of whacks. He was learning prison language well.

“You’ve been starting a lot of fights around here. Saw the last one with them swastika men over there, almost earned yourself a death sentence.”