29. Jaxcen

Chapter twenty-nine

Jaxcen

T he sound of gravel scraping from all directions has me moving to the side as guns are drawn, not just from the officer behind the one talking to me, but from Devon and his men.

“Whoa,” the officer at the back yells. “Let’s all calm down and lower the guns.”

“They know something about the facility,” the cop that questioned me yells back, his gun raised, shifting its aim between Devon, Finn, Miles and the guards.

“No, they don’t. No one said that,” the other cop steps closer to his colleague.

“She did,” the officer snarls over his shoulder while shifting the aim of his gun again, this time to me. “She reacted.”

This isn’t good. They are going to shoot each other, and all because I reacted.

“Hey! Don’t point a fucking gun at her. She isn’t armed!” Devon snarls, and I catch sight of his face, his eyes dark and zeroed in on his target.

The questioning officer.

He does as Devon demands, pointing his gun back at him, and my heart sinks.

No.

Don’t point a gun at Dev.

“Make him back off, Jas,” Devon stalks forward, his aim never wavering .

“Rick, seriously. Lower your gun.” The officer Devon called Jas hisses at his colleague, meanwhile his gaze is on Devon, a message in his eyes like he’s trying to convey something without speaking.

“Like fuck,” Officer Rick snaps. “They drew on us.”

“After you drew on them,” Jas points out, trying to calm the situation.

My heart is anything but calm, the organ hammering against my chest as my fear spikes. But it’s not fear for myself. It’s fear for Devon. Fear for his men.

When did they become important to me too?

What have I done?

“Are we going to have a problem here?” Devon’s voice, although calm, is scary as hell, and I can tell his monster is right there, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to come out at any second.

“No, man.” Officer Jas or Jason or whatever the hell his name is, shakes his head. “We were just following protocol. Rick is new. He’s not up to speed yet.”

“Well get him up to fucking speed before someone gets hurt,” Devon snarls and Officer Rick snarls back.

“You can’t talk to us like that!”

“For fuck’s sake,” Jas mutters, lowering his gun and approaching his partner to stand between him and us. “Lower your weapon, Rick.”

“No,” he snaps, and then, to my surprise, Jason’s hand shoots out and slams into Rick’s face, the crunch of bone loud as Rick wails, his gun falling from his grasp, only for Jason to catch it.

“What the fuck!” Rick screeches, his hands cupped over his nose as blood gushes out, onto his chin and the front of his blue uniform. “Why’d you do that?”

“For not following my order.” Jason shoves his shoulders and Rick stumbles back a few steps. “Get in the fucking car.”

“I’m gonna report this,” Rick cries, but he does as he’s told, rushing to the car and slipping inside.

Now I’m really confused .

Why would one officer punch the other?

“Sorry, Dev. You know I had to come and ask.” Officer Jason holsters his gun and tucks the other in the back of his pants, and I notice that’s when Devon and his men lower theirs.

“I know. Are you sure you can handle him?” Devon asks, his tone less menacing now, like he’s talking to an old friend.

“Yeah. I’ll take him to visit your cousin before we go back to the station.”

“Good idea.” Devon smirks wickedly, “Say hi to Griffin for me.”

“Will do.” Jason smirks back before turning his attention to me, and where I still stand huddled to a tree next to the gates. “Apologies, Miss Summers. Have a lovely Christmas.”

“Ah… yeah… you too.” I frown, my voice a little shaky.

What the hell just happened?

I watch as the officer gets into his car and starts the engine, starting to drive away.

“You okay, little mouse?”

Glancing in the other direction, I see Devon nearing, his gun gone from his grip as he studies me like I’m a caged animal that might run at any moment.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, dumbfounded.

“It’s alright, Jax. It’s over.” He reaches out, snagging my wrist and gently pulling me to him.

“I’m sorry I…”

“It’s not your fault.” Devon cups my jaw, his dark eyes scanning my face as if he’s trying to read my mind. “I’ll kick Jason’s arse later for coming here and bringing a new recruit.”

“But…”

“But what?” He smirks a little, his thumb brushing over my cheek like he can feel its searing heat and he either likes it or is trying to calm it. I can’t be sure which, but it’s gentle and so opposite of what Devon Marx is.

“But, he’s a cop. They are both cops.” I point out the obvious and Devon shrugs.

“And? ”

“And they are cops,” I snap, frustrated as to why he’s not taking this more seriously.

“Yes, they are cops, but little mouse, I’m Devon Marx.”

His familiar and rather frustrating cocky smirk returns, and I want to slap it off his face for treating this like it’s no big deal.

“But…” I try to argue again, and Devon leans close, brushing his lips against mine.

“But nothing.” He nibbles on my lips. “I’m a Marx, love. That’s all you need to know.”

Angling my head, he kisses me hard and deep, his tongue lashing mine like it’s trying to remind me who’s boss. And I guess it really is him. He’s the boss of everyone in this town, and maybe even of the police in the area.

When he pulls back, his dark gaze drops to my lips, and I know he’s staring at how swollen they are. He does that to them so easily, and I know he’s fascinated by them, more naturally plump than average.

Dazed, I look around as I pull back, needing space to think clearly. His presence consumes me so entirely sometimes, that I forget just how dangerous he is.

I glance over his shoulder at his men. The guards, dressed in a black uniform, armed with guns and knives. Miles, his hulking muscles nearly tearing through the fabric of his t-shirt, his tattoos making him look like an evil villain. And Finn, just as big and built as Devon, his blonde hair doing nothing to make him appear any less scary than the man standing before me.

These men… They are something else.

This isn’t just a normal ‘rich guy buying off people’ type of situation. Not with the danger that oozes from each of their pores.

“Am I…” I glance back at Devon, unsure how or what to ask, or even if I should. “Are you…”

“What?” Devon smirks, like he finds my uncertainty cute.

Ugh. I’ll just come right out and ask.

“Is this the mafia? ”

I study his face for a reaction, and it’s his eyes that respond first, glinting a little as a sinister smirk engulfs his face while he chuckles.

“Probably not the kind of mafia you’re used to from Hollywood movies.”

“But, it is the mafia?” I ask again and he shrugs.

“We don’t tend to call it that.” He brushes back my hair behind my ear, once again showing me how much he enjoys doing that.

Is he trying to distract me?

“What do you call it? The mob?” I push and he smirks wider.

“No.”

“Organised crime?” I continue, hoping I’m not pushing my luck too much.

“I guess you could call us businessmen.” He nods.

“Businessmen?” I narrow my eyes and he nods again.

“Yes.”

“Businessmen that are in the business of crime?” I try to clarify.

“Exactly.” He takes my hand, lifting it to his lips where he presses them to the back, and hot damn, I swoon.

Like, wow. It’s such a simple act, but no one has ever kissed the back of my hand before, and there’s something about it that sends butterflies straight to my belly, sending ripples of excitement through me.

“Oh…kay” is all I can muster until I remember the church we met in. “Is that why the confessional doors at St Catherine’s Church are bulletproof? Does your crime family own it?”

He grins at my question. “We don’t own it, but that’s where the Marx family worships, and Father Peters is happy for our added security measures as long as we make sizable donations to the charities of his choosing.”

My brows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “Really.” His eyes light up with something that looks a helluva lot like happiness as he tugs on our joined hands and starts walking towards his men.

“Come on, little mouse. Let’s feed you. ”

At the mention of food, my tummy rumbles loudly, and it becomes all I can think about.

He mentioned gluttony earlier, and it’s a sin I’ve found hard to fight often, but knowing that binge eating my favourite chocolates and treats will end up showing on the outside, I tried my best to steer clear of them. Eddie was always the first to see the moment I put a little weight on.

But he’s not here and I actually don’t care where he is or if he thinks I’m a chubby sinner. I’m hungry, and for once, I have every intention of feasting.

Devon discusses a few more things with his men, that I pay no attention to, and then takes the cute little golf cart, driving us back up the steep hill to the Palace.

When he said he was going to feed me, he didn’t lie.

Mabel prepares a feast, and Devon’s men join us, sitting at a long table in the back room that looks like it’s used for counter meals sometimes.

So we eat. And eat. And eat.

Even though I’m the only female sitting at the table, the men don’t look uncomfortable by my presence, their banter and laughter easy to soak in as I watch these men, who seem more like a big family, enjoy a meal and time together.

“Is my little mouse full?” Devon asks, leaning close so only I can hear, and I nod, rubbing my belly.

“I have a food baby.”

“A what?” He laughs.

“A food baby.” I grin from ear to ear. “Every Christmas, Presley and I would see who could get the biggest food baby belly.” I pat my tummy, pushing it out more for effect, and Devon’s eyes darken.

“Woman if you keep doing that, I’ll throw you on this table and fuck you until I nut inside you ten times just to make sure I see your belly swell like that with my child inside it.”

My lips part and eyes widen, his words both formidable and alluring.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I whisper and Finn leans in on my other side .

“He would.”

My brows shoot high and I turn my gaze to Devon’s best mate as he chuckles.

“Dev’s breeding kink with you seems to surpass the normal realm of playing with the risk.” He shrugs, like what he just said is no big deal. “He genuinely wants to knock you up, and he’d have no qualms with fucking you right here in front of everyone while we try to eat.”

My mouth forms an O as I shoot my gaze back to Devon, who simply shrugs and shoots me a wink.

I should be appalled right?

I shouldn’t want him, someone I barely know, to knock me up. And I absolutely shouldn’t get turned on over the idea of Devon taking me on this very table while his men watch.

But I do.

Fuck. I do.

Why do I want that?

Finn chuckles, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his drink, while Devon’s eyes sear me from the outside in, like he’s wielding his dick magic and knows how it’s affecting me.

“You want me to fuck you right here, little mouse?”

The table falls quiet at Devon’s words, and never in all my life have I felt my cheeks burst with so much heat like they do this very second.

“We could clear away a few plates, make enough room to spread you out so everyone can see.” He slides his plate aside, one of his men taking it and passing it up the table, like they’d all be down for this. “I know you like to watch, so you could watch them fist their cocks, getting off on the sight of you shattering around my cock.”

I can’t breathe. I’m pretty sure my lungs have stopped working, and perhaps even my heart as my gaze roams over each lethal man to see not an ounce of disdain, only lust.

Oh.

My.

God.

Would Devon really do that? Let others see me ?

The thought sends a thrill up my spine, and Cloud 9 comes to the forefront of my mind.

How many times have I wanted to step over the line and join in with the action?

How many times have I wished I was the female in the centre getting worshipped by the men, all at once, taking care of her? How many times have I wished it was me everyone was watching and getting off to?

So many times. So, so many times.

But this isn’t Cloud 9. This is Woodall Ridge. The gated community run by criminal businessmen.

This is Devon’s home.

Clearing my throat, with more than ten sets of eyes on me, I force words past my lips.

“As tempting as that offer is, Mr Marx,” I try to keep my tone formal, just like he did when he made the offer, “I dutifully decline.”

There are some low chuckles that float around the table, but I keep my eyes trained on Devon, as I stand, pushing my chair back to make my escape before slipping it back into position.

“Where are you going, little mouse?” Devon asks, looking a little disappointed that I didn’t take him up on his offer.

“It’s Friday afternoon, isn’t it?”

He nods, his brow furrowing.

“I believe there are cocktails at Miss Barber’s.” I spin before he can say anything else, but only get a few steps before his hand engulfs mine and pulls me up short.

“Jax, you shouldn’t have cocktails after being drugged yesterday and this morning.”

He’s right of course. I half expected I’d be passed out for days, but I obviously didn’t get as much forced into me as Dr Xavier had hoped.

“I’ll have a mocktail.” I smile fakely at him, trying to pull my hand free of his but he holds strong.

“I’ll walk you there. ”

Giving in, I let him do that, partially happy that he’s with me, and partially certain I need to breathe, which is hard when he’s offering me up as a visual feast for his men so he can fill my belly with his child.

We are quiet as we walk through the Palace and out onto the street, the warm December afternoon reminding me how close Christmas is, and how it’s unlikely I’ll be spending it with my sister.

My sister, who was taken away by my mother so I couldn’t see her when I arrived at her apartment.

My sister, who was used as a pawn to try and trick me at first.

She must be so upset.

“I took that too far, didn’t I?” Devon’s deep rasp gains my attention, and I glance up at him as we stroll up the path, hand in hand like boyfriend and girlfriend. “I’m sorry, little mouse. I shouldn’t have done that after what you just went through.”

I frown. “I’m not annoyed because of that. I have a feeling anything you do to or with me just helps me forget that nightmare.”

My admission has his dark brows quirking up. “Something about what I did has made you quiet.”

I mull over what I should say, because I doubt he’ll give up unless I tell him something, and he has a damn good bullshit radar, so lying is out of the question.

So I go with a naked truth. “I think I got scared of how much I wanted to take you up on the offer.”

Feet halting, Devon spins me to face him. “What scared you about it?”

I scoff and laugh at the same time, the sound more like a snort. “Where do I start?” I shrug. “I shouldn’t want people to watch that, Devon. Let alone your men. And there’s a part of me that is a little annoyed that you’d want them to see me like that.”

He nods, not looking insulted by my admission. “You watch at Cloud 9, but it’s natural to want to be the one everyone is watching and getting off on seeing. I imagine you’ve thought about that when you went to the club.”

I nod, not even ashamed to admit that, which is weird in itself. Normally I would be very ashamed.

“And while I am very fucking possessive over you, as long as no one touches you, and you’re okay with being watched, I would share that with my men, but it wouldn’t be for them, little mouse. It’d be all for you.”

His dark eyes roam over my face, locking in on my lips before they travel lower to where his free hand glides down my side and comes to settle on my stomach.

“You have no idea how much I want to fill you with my cum. How much I want this food baby to turn into a real one.”

A shiver ripples up my spine, and not one of disgust, but instead excitement.

How does Devon Marx have this control over me?

Reminding me of my food baby, my thoughts shift back to my sister again, and I push any heat I have building in my core aside, for some real talk.

“I’m worried about my sister’s safety. My dad might be in hospital, but my mum… well she does everything he asks of her, and I don’t trust her with Presley.”

“Leave it with me, love. I’ll make sure she’s kept safe.”

I nod, not sure how he’ll do that, but certain he’s a man of his word.

We walk the rest of the way in silence, but it isn’t strained. It’s just comfortable. Easy.

Something I’m not used to.

Devon walks me into Miss Barber’s backyard, giving the famous Miss Barber strict instructions to only make me mocktails, and the other women engulf me, practically pulling me from Devon’s grip to welcome me into their fold.

Devon shoots me a wink, and leaves, and then all eyes are on me.

“Oh my god. He’s in love with you.” Miss Barber looks nothing like I imagined.

I was sure I was about to meet an older woman with a neat French roll, wearing a suit, but instead I find what I can only describe as a hippy, with dreadlocks.

She’s delightful.

Thankfully, with Allegra and Eden here, I’m not the only one drinking non-alcoholic cocktails, and I notice that so too, is Marilda.

Her son is off to the side, playing in a sandpit with a couple of other children, and I wonder if she doesn’t like to drink around her son, or if there’s another reason… Like maybe she’s pregnant. With Devon’s child.

Ugh. I don’t want to think such a thing and I really have no claim over Devon, but the thought has me jealous as hell, and I hate that Marilda seems so lovely, because I’d love nothing more than to claw her eyes out.

I mean. Not that I know her story, but you can’t tell me that her son doesn’t resemble Devon.

I wave off Miss Barber’s comment about Devon loving me, and instead ask about all of them.

“Tell me how you all came to be a part of this town.”

“We all came here for the same reason,” a female speaks up, and her familiar smile takes me back to the beer garden at the back of the Palace. I’m sure Devon said her name is Natasha. She played the guitar. “Devon and his men saved us and offered us sanctuary.”

I frown. Did I hear that right?

“I can see Natasha has confused you.” Miss Barber hands me a mocktail and takes a seat next to me on the wicker bench. “Each of us were in a bad situation. A situation not even the police could save us from. The Marx family were the only ones that could help.”

“And Angel Org,” the woman that jogged by me yesterday and told me women throw themselves off the cliff adds.

“Angel Org?” I ask.

“Angel Org is run by the Angel sisters. Bec and Amanda Angel. They help women and girls get out of violent situations when the law fails them.” Celeste explains. “And they’re backed by the Marx family.”

“Yeah, Dev and his cousins are the muscle.” Allegra wags her brows, and the women snicker. “And then they offered us this place to recoup. Get back on our feet until we’re ready to leave and start a life somewhere else.”

“Only a couple of women have left.” Marilda speaks up for the first time. “Most of us are happy here. It’s a simple life. Safe for not just us but our children too.”

“Don’t you miss your families?” I ask, knowing I would miss Presley.

“We can still see them if and when it’s safe,” Melissa, the girl who was in Devon’s office the first time I went to see him there, adds, offering me a small smile.

“Do they know you’re here?”

They all shake their heads.

“No, sweetie. It’s safer for them as well as all of us if no one knows our location,” Miss Barber says, her smile warm when I glance her way again.

“Don’t you get lonely. What about… you know?” I lift my brows looking pointedly at Miss Barber who smirks knowingly.

“Sex? Oh, that’s not a problem here, sweetie. Have you seen all the men guarding us?”

All the women giggle and Allegra scoffs. “Speak for yourself. Apparently, I’m too young to be touched. Why can’t they save a woman with a teenage son? Ugh.” Allegra lulls her head back dramatically, and the women laugh at her. “You can all laugh all you like, but I have needs you know. Just ask my kitty.”

“No one here wants to talk to your kitty, Allegra.” Celeste cringes.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, Alle, I’ll talk to your kitty.” Eden grins, and Allegra waves her off.

“You don’t count. We fool around all the time. I want me a dic— ”

“That’s enough!” Marilda leaps up, glancing at her son before glaring at Allegra. “Mind your language around Damon.”

“Fine, whatever.” Allegra slumps in her chair and sips on her mocktail

“So what about the women that jump over the cliff? Why did they do that?”

In unison, everyone turns to glare at Celeste.

“What?” She shrugs. “I was just being honest.” She doesn’t look concerned with their glares and Melissa rolls her eyes.

“Sadie was the only one to do that, Celeste, and she was beyond help. No one could save her from her demons.”

They all fall quiet, like they are remembering this Sadie woman who obviously took her own life.

I feel bad for ruining the mood.

“Enough about poor Sadie.” Miss Barber waves a dismissive hand. “I’m more interested in you, Jaxcen.”

“Oh, uhhh. There’s nothing interesting about me.”

“Pfft. As if.” Allegra waves a hand at me. “Devon brought you here as a guest. A guest .” She enunciates the word guest like it’s important.

“And you stay in his suite.” Eden grins from ear to ear, wagging her brows.

“Uhhh. Yes.” I’m not entirely sure why this is a big deal, but Celeste, who obviously likes to say whatever comes to mind, fills me in.

“Devon has never brought his fucks back here.”

I gape and Marilda snaps, “Language, Celeste. Seriously you women act like we don’t go over this every damn week.”

“Marilda is right.” Miss Barber speaks up as Celeste goes to say something. “We need to remember there are children here.”

“I, ah… I’m not his…” I can’t string more than two words together, both from the shock of what Celeste said and being called out so plainly.

“Oh we know he’s protecting you from someone.” Natasha smirks. “I got that out of Bruno the second day you were here. ”

“Tell them how you got it out of him.” Allegra giggles, and Natasha shrugs.

“He can never say no to a blowie.”

Marilda glares at Natasha, but Natasha just shrugs. “I could be talking about a blow fly, Ril, calm down. Damon has no idea what we are talking about.”

Marilda rolls her eyes, and I remain shocked at this group of women, who aren’t at all what I thought they’d be like.

“Devon protects all of us.” Miss Barber gains my attention again. “But he’s never invited any of us to his suite before.” She winks at me, and there’s my blush, calling me out like a beacon.

“Have you seen the way he looks at her?” Eden coos. “I want a man to look at me like that one day.”

They continue chatting about their experiences encountering Devon and I together like I’m not even here, and my mind feels like it’s about to explode from what they told me.

It’s hard to believe Devon really hasn’t taken any of them to his suite, and it makes me wonder if he’s even really a monster at all.

He is though. I know it. I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it. And still, I want him and his monster like I want my next breath.

I spend a few hours with the women, watching them interact, answer questions as vaguely as I can, my eyes always returning to Marilda, and her son Damon.

Is it really just a coincidence that Damon looks so much like Devon?

Were Marilda and him a thing before she came here, and now they are simply co-parents?

I want to ask, but not in front of everyone, so I table those thoughts for another time, which is when my tall, dark and lethal keeper returns to collect me.

Allegra leaps at him and shoves a Santa hat on his head before he chats to the women for a few minutes, and even goes to the children playing, but only picks up one child.

Damon .

They are familiar with each other, Damon kissing Devon’s cheek, and when Devon puts Damon down, the little toddler doesn’t want him to leave.

Marilda steps in to save Devon, picking up Damon who is crying and reaching for Devon as he approaches me, and my heart sinks.

Even though Marilda doesn’t display it, she’s affected by Devon coming to me, there’s a split second that her eyes meet mine and I’m met with a hint of a glare.

“Ready to go, little mouse?” Devon asks, his hand pressing to the small of my back as he leads me to the gate, and I risk another glance over my shoulder at Marilda, only now her back is to me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused by what I just witnessed.

“You’ve been sinning again, Miss Summers.” Devon’s deep rasp snaps all of my attention to him, and I glance up to see his dark eyes smouldering with lust. “It’s time to confess to the devil.”