5. Jaxcen

Chapter five

Jaxcen

T he way my skin flushes can’t be normal. Yes, I’m humiliated about what I’m about to do. But is that really why I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out? Maybe it’s because I’ve never had to admit these things face to face before. Or maybe it’s because I’m admitting them to this man. The devil .

But what’s the alternative? If I don’t tell him, he’s going to kill me. So to hell with my dignity. I have to do this. I have to survive.

“I went to see Father Peters tonight because—”

“No.” He cuts me off. “Don't explain to me why you went. Confess to me exactly like you did to Father Peters.”

“What?” I squeak.

“You heard me, little mouse. Confess to me. Pretend I'm Father Peters. Pretend I’m the person on the other side of the confessional for you to divulge your most wicked sins to.”

“I don’t want to do this. I’ve changed my mind,” I rush out, shaking my head.

“So you’d rather die?” he asks, dark brows raised. “Okay then.”

Flipping on the indicator, Devon veers across four lanes of what would normally be packed with traffic, and speeds up an exit.

“What are you doing?” I stiffen, glancing out the windscreen.

“I’m taking you bush.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“But…”

He chuckles darkly. “But nothing, little mouse. The deal was, you confess and you get to live. But since you seem to have so much trouble doing that, then let’s cut the shit and get the killing part over with.”

Oh my God, he can’t be serious. Is he really going to force me to treat him like he’s a father? Like he’s a man of the cloth?

My stomach churns. Unease rushes through my whole body, my palms so sweaty that I need to wipe them over my skirt to dry them off.

At the top of the exit, he pulls the sleek red car to a stop before turning his dark eyes to me.

“So what’s it gonna be, little mouse? Are you going to confess? Or shall we turn left and head to the mountains to find you a nice place to rest for eternity?”

Tears well in my eyes. My chest aching from the fear racing my heart at knowing I have to do this. I have to tell him.

“Fine,” I snap, waving my hand in the direction of the freeway we just exited. “I’ll tell you. I’ll confess.”

“Atta girl.” He grins, and then plants his foot down on the accelerator and speeds straight through the intersection, and back onto the freeway.

“Don’t even think about making your confession up, little mouse. I’ll know if you’re lying.” He shoots me a warning glare that sends a chill up my spine. “Which is one of the twelve cardinal sins. Don’t forget that.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, it is. You must have forgotten that murder is also one of the twelve cardinal sins.”

I can’t believe I just said that to a man that has the ability to kill me before I take my next breath. But then the wicked grin he shoots me tells me he’s not at all angry. In fact, he looks damn proud about the fact he murdered someone.

What kind of sick and twisted man is he?

A sick and twisted man that will kill me if I don’t do what he says.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” I start, my voice shaky with embarrassment as he nods in satisfaction. I want to punch him. I want to dig my nails into his unfortunately attractive face, and tear his flesh from his bones. “It’s been one week since my last confession.”

“One week?” he asks, dragging his gaze from the road momentarily. “Is that all? You seem to be a little sinner .” He draws the word sinner out like it’s a delectable treat. Like it’s something to be proud of. Like it’s not the bane of my existence.

“Yes.” I nod, trying to ignore his curious gaze. “One week. Can I continue?” I snap, and even though he’s smirking, he nods.

“I went back.” I repeat the words I said to Father Peters, and Devon’s brows shoot up, his dark gaze darting to mine before returning to the road.

“Back where, little mouse?”

“I don’t have to tell you that part. Father Peters already knew.”

Devon chuckles, his teeth flashing briefly as he bites his lower lip.

“Well, Father Devon doesn’t know. So how about you tell me?”

My God, he’s really gonna make me do this, isn’t he?

“I went back to the club,” I rush out, wanting this to be over already.

“What club?”

“Cloud 9,” I admit, and at the mention of one of the city’s most exclusive sex clubs, I risk a glance to see his brows have shot high as his foot lifts off the accelerator, the car slowing before he realises what’s happened.

Holy shit. Did I just shock Devon Marx?

“ You went to Cloud 9?” he asks in disbelief, and I glare at him.

“Yes, I went to Cloud 9, and not for the first time I might add.”

Dammit. Why did I say that like I’m proud of that fact? I’m not. It’s… wrong.

“Wow, little mouse, you don’t really look like the type of girl that would go to a sex club.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover?” I retort.

“Oh, I’ve heard it all right. And now I’m fucking intrigued to know what happened in Cloud 9 when little Miss Jaxcen Summers made an appearance.”

“That’s not part of my confession,” I snap, hoping to God he doesn’t dig for more information. This is already humiliating enough.

“Of course.” He lifts his hand from the steering wheel and waves it in the air. “Miss Summers, continue with your confession.”

I roll my eyes so hard it brings on an instant headache which is the last thing I need.

I clear my throat. “Father Peters asked when it happened, and I admitted that I went there tonight. And Sunday night. And Friday night.”

Throwing his head back, Devon’s laugh is loud in the confined space. “Oh wow. You’re a frequent flyer. I would never have fucking guessed.” He shakes his head, his grin wide. “Damn, little mouse.”

“I’m not a frequent flyer. I just go to watch.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I slap my hand over my lips, completely mortified. This is utterly humiliating and my gaze darts to the door handle.

Open it and jump, Jaxcen.

Before I can follow through with my inner demon’s demand, my gaze travels back to Devon to see the most sinister gaze staring back at me.

“So my little mouse is a voyeur.”

My lips thin, and I force them to remain sealed shut, not wanting to admit to that, but Devon simply shakes his head, pointing out the window to a road sign we pass on the side of the freeway.

“The next exit has an even better place I can bury you.”

Ugh. This man.

Never in my life have I wanted to punch someone more than I want to punch him.

“Fine.” I huff. “I guess I am kind of a voyeur.”

And there’s that shit-eating grin again.

Goddammit.

“So, little mouse, what did Father Peters have to say about you going to Cloud 9 so frequently?”

“He asked me what keeps drawing me back,” I divulge, not sure that I care about my pride anymore.

“Hell, I know what keeps drawing you back.” He nods, “But please continue. What is it that keeps drawing my little mouse back to Cloud 9?”

For another moment I contemplate opening the door of the Corvette and just slipping out to my death. Surely that would be less painful than having to admit my most darkest secrets to this animal. But then again, I get the feeling he probably wouldn’t be all that shocked by the thoughts I have. By the needs that drive me so many times back to a sex club despite the fact I’m engaged. Despite the fact my fiancé shames me for getting aroused and wanting to do more with him.

Maybe Devon Marx is exactly the right person to confess these types of sins to.

“My impure thoughts are what send me back,” I finally admit.

“So you have impure thoughts, and you go to a sex club to indulge a little, yet when you leave, you have the urge to confess this for God’s forgiveness?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asks so seriously, and this time I’m not that ashamed to admit the reason why.

“I’m scared.”

There. I’ve said it out loud to this wicked man. Nothing can be worse than that.

Well, I guess death by his hands could be.

“Scared of what, little mouse?”

“Indulging,” I admit so freely. It’s like he has a hold of me. Like I’m a puppet he’s controlling.

I guess I really would do just about anything to save my own life.

“What did Father Peters say about indulging?” Devon nudges, his tone laced with curiosity.

“He said something about temptation being acknowledged by God. That resisting it can bring strong personal growth, but that the Lord does not wish us to face temptations that are beyond our ability to resist. And then he pointed out that Cloud 9 seems to be beyond my ability.”

“And what do you think about that? Do you think going to Cloud 9 is beyond your ability to resist?” The deep gravel of his tone, no longer harsh or playful, but rather utterly mindful, penetrates beneath my flesh, settling over me like a second skin as I part my lips to answer in a whisper.

“Sometimes I think the temptation will suffocate me if I don’t give in to it.”

Something that sounds a helluva lot like a growl rumbles in his chest, and I notice his hands gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white like he’s trying to strangle it. I’m not sure what it is about my words that has him reacting this way, but I don’t think it’s good.

“So you go to Cloud 9. You watch but you haven’t given in to temptation. The temptation of what little mouse?” he asks. “Of joining in? Of stepping into the throes of an orgy laid out before you? Of letting other men and women touch you in places you ache to be touched?”

“Stop.” I rush out as heat pools between my legs, reminding me of my devious desires.

“What’s so wrong with that?” he asks in all seriousness.

“What do you mean?” I snap, staring at him in disbelief. “It’s so inappropriate.”

“For who exactly?” he asks, his eyes watching something in the rearview mirror before he returns his attention to the road. “Is it inappropriate for the people that are there because they want to be? They’re there because they want to indulge, little mouse. They are there because they want to be explored and to explore. To push their boundaries and give in to the temptations. Why is that wrong?”

“It just is,” I rush out, my lower lip quivering as shame washes over me.

What would Eddie say if he knew? Would he cancel our engagement? Would he insist on counselling with Father Peters? Hell, I know Father Peters has already offered so many times, knowing the struggles I have. Knowing I’m about to be married.

I know Eddie would cancel our engagement. Without a doubt.

Hell, he hasn’t even let me kiss him properly. Nothing more than a peck. How many times have I practically begged him to even touch me? Sometimes I wonder why we’re even getting married. And yes, I know it was always something that’s meant to happen. Growing up together, our parents always threw us together, smiling and talking about the day we would get married. So is that really why I said yes to him? To appease my family?

It’s not the first time I’ve had that thought, but it’s the first time I want to scream. Because yes, I think that’s exactly why I said yes. Everything I’ve been doing, my schooling, my work, my friends, my relationships, are all to appease my family and Eddie. No one’s ever asked me what I want to do. No one has ever asked me if I even want to be married. If that’s the type of future I want for myself.

Everything is just expected.

“So I’m guessing by your reaction that you don’t go to Cloud 9 with your fiancé.”

My eyes dart to his and his gaze shoots to my hand telling me he’s noticed my engagement ring.

Even though it’s too late and I know he’s seen it, I still shove my hand under my thigh, covering up the evidence like it will somehow make a difference.

“Why don’t you go to Cloud 9 with your fiancé, little mouse? Surely you would both get some enjoyment out of it and you wouldn’ t have to only watch. I’m guessing that’s why you stand on the sidelines because you’re a taken woman and adultery is a sin you’re not willing to commit.”

My cheeks flare remembering how I kissed this man not that long ago.

Yes, it was because I thought I was giving him his dying wish, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did that. I still gave in and pressed my lips to his despite the fact he’s not my fiancé.

I internally scoff. Eddie thinks kissing before we are married is a sin.

“Eddie isn’t like that,” I rush out, for some reason trying to defend the man that isn’t even here, that would so quickly throw me under the bus and shame me for my thoughts and desires. For my attendance at such a club.

“Your fiancé doesn’t like sex clubs?” Devon asks, surprise lacing his tone, like it’s absurd.

“He’s a very religious man.” I point out.

“Is that why you go to church, little mouse? For your fiancé?”

I want to say no, but the fact of the matter is that is exactly why I go to church. It’s exactly why I’ve been going to church since I was fourteen years old. For Eddie. For his parents.

“Like I said, he’s a very religious man.”

The car is now surrounded by darkness, not a light in sight as we travel further into the country. I still have no idea if I can take his word that he won’t kill me, but I have to hope that wherever he is taking me, isn’t to my grave.

“Am I to take it that your fiancé, given he is such a religious man, also doesn’t believe in premarital sex?”

Oh my God, is he really going there?

I want to slap myself just for wondering that because of course he is going there. He’s been on a mission to get inside my head, to see my darkest thoughts since the moment we got inside this car.

“You don’t need to know that. It’s not part of my confession.” I rebuke, but he just snickers .

“Since your life is in my hands, little mouse, then you’ll tell me what I want to know,” he snaps, an air of danger lacing his tone.

Goddammit.

“Fine,” I huff. “Eddie doesn’t believe in premarital sex, okay? Are you happy? Does that make you feel better?”

“Fuck, no. That only makes me feel sad for you. That your arsehole fiancé has been holding out on you. No wonder you’re going to a club.”

“That’s not why I go to the club.”

“Isn’t it?”

I worry my lip as I consider it. It’s absolutely why I go to the club. My curiosity got the better of me. Watching things online just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I wanted real. I wanted to see how people actually behave when they aren’t in front of a camera filming a scene. I wanted to see it in the flesh since it seems so far from anything I’ve experienced.

“I guess perhaps it’s part of why I go,” I admit, but I don’t dare look at him.

I can see in my peripheral that he watches me every now and then, dragging his eyes from the road. But I can’t bear to see those dark eyes. Smouldering, sinfully dark eyes.

“Are you a virgin, little mouse?” he asks, and I nearly choke on my own saliva as my gaze darts back in his direction.

“That is none of your business,” I snap, and he chuckles.

“Actually, right now it is my business. Answer me,” he demands and another shiver runs up my spine.

I hate him.

“Fine, if you must know, no, I’m not a virgin.”

“Huh. Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

Shame engulfs my cheeks as memories swarm me. I have never told anyone this. As far as everyone knows, I am a virgin and I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to explain it to Eddie on our wedding night.

Will he notice the lack of blood ?

I’m sure it will still hurt to an extent given it only happened one time, but I haven’t been able to tell my fiancé. I haven’t been able to tell my sister. I haven’t been able to tell anyone.

“I don’t understand why you need to know this,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest again. “I’ve confessed. I told you what I went to see Father Peters about.”

“Yes, but that just opens up so many more questions, little mouse.” He points out. “You said so yourself. You’ve been going to that club on the regular. You’re engaged. You don’t engage in premarital sex, yet claim not to be a virgin. So why not push your fiancé for a little bit of intimacy?”

“He doesn’t know,” I admit, almost hating myself for saying it out loud

“He doesn’t know you’re not a virgin?” Devon asks and I don’t need to look at him to know he’s surprised by that. It’s in his tone, so I nod. “How interesting, little mouse.”

“I wouldn’t call it interesting.” I deadpan, feeling the weight of that lie settle in my gut.

When Eddie finds out, will he ask for an annulment? Will he demand our marriage be dissolved?

And will I care?

Sometimes I wonder if perhaps that’s all I’m waiting for. For Eddie to find out the truth. For Eddie to find out that I’m not pure. That I’m not innocent. That I haven’t abstained.

It’s easier for me to accept him walking away from me than having the courage for me to do it myself. Which just makes me a coward, really.

It makes me that weak, little mouse.

“From where I’m sitting, it’s very interesting. You’re getting married to a man who’s very religious. Abstains from premarital sex and who assumes his wife will be a virgin on their wedding night. How exactly do you think you’re going to get out of that, little mouse? Because I can guarantee, he will notice.”

“Will he?” I ask, genuinely curious. “He’s a virgin. How will he notice? How will he know if he has nothing to compare it to?”

I glance over to see Devon nodding. “You have a point, if he is indeed a virgin then he won’t notice. But how do you know that he is one?”

I frown. “We’ve been together since we were kids. Officially since we were fourteen. He hasn’t been with anyone.”

“But he could have.” Devon continues, and I really get the feeling he just likes fucking with people’s emotions. “How would you know? How do you know that while you’re at Cloud 9 he’s not with another woman? Because you have secrets too, you know, little mouse. So why wouldn’t he?”

The thought makes me feel sick. And then I want to slap myself for even feeling that way because I have been lying to Eddie for so long.

Why do I even care if Eddie has been with someone else when I know deep down I don’t even want to marry him? Hell, I don’t even know if I want to kiss him. Not anymore. Not the way I used to want to. But he’s turned me down so many times over the years, and now I just look at him like he’s my brother or something. Which is a whole other issue that I’m going to have to get over before our wedding in a couple of months.

“I guess I don’t know,” I admit, kind of hating to say the words out loud.

“How old is he?” Devon asks.

“He’s the same age as me. Older by a few months. He’ll be twenty-five in the new year.”

“Did you both go to university?”

I nod. “Yes. We attended universities in the city, but we didn’t go to the same one.”

“So in a way, you have your own lives outside of your relationship.”

“Well, yes, doesn’t everyone?”

“To an extent, but what I’m about to say to you, little mouse, isn’t to make you feel like shit. I’m not saying it to be a mean motherfucker, even though I am most of the time.” His serious gaze locks with mine for a minute before he returns it to the road. “I’m saying it to be honest.”

I gulp, not sure if I’m ready to hear what he has to say.

“There’s a ninety-five percent chance that your fiancé hasn’t been a virgin for a long time.”

“You can’t know that. You don’t know him. He’s… different.”

“Unless he’s an ugly fucker, I’m gonna tell you right now that he’s already given in to temptation and sunk his dick that he refuses to use on you, into some bitch in the city. Hell even if he’s a little on the dorky side, he probably paid for it.”

I gasp. “Eddie would never go to a prostitute.”

Devon throws his head back, laughing. “Oh little mouse, you have so much to learn. He probably went to a prostitute before he was even 18 years old.”

“If that’s the case, then why wouldn’t he want to have sex with me?” I snap, feeling proud that I’ve put a kink in his theory. That is, until he speaks.

“Well, there’s a few reasons that could be.” He glances at me, and I’m expecting that infuriating shit-eating grin again, but all I see is something that looks a helluva lot like sympathy. “One, because he’s likely a lying arsehole. Two because he could be gay, and you are his beard. And three, some men see their wife as the mother of their children, and they can’t imagine doing the things to their wives that they like to do to the whores. He could be seeking his dirty desires elsewhere, outside the marital bed.”

I feel sick.

Not because his words are a lie, but because I feel like they are so close to the truth.

Have I really been abstaining for someone who doesn’t really want me?

Would it really be such a sin to give in to my desires and just indulge?

I consider that for a moment. The fact that tonight I nearly did it. I walked up to a man and woman at Cloud 9 and was about to let them touch me, and then not an hour later, I kissed a man inside a confessional that wasn’t my fiancé.

I’ve already sinned, and in return, I was nearly shot and somehow wound up in the lap of the devil himself.

At the sound of the indicator, I glance out the windscreen to see that we are turning off the freeway, taking the exit that has a sign reading, Welcome to the Timber Valley region .

I’ve never been out this way before, but I know it’s surrounded by pine trees. Lots and lots of pine trees and bushland. A lot of good places to bury someone.

“Where are we going?” I ask again, hoping this time he’ll tell me the truth.

He chuckles wickedly. “I’ve already told you, little mouse. We’re going to hell.”

Suddenly, the idea of going somewhere that is most likely my final resting place with this savage is an unbearable thought. If he’s going to kill me, then I’ll make him work for it. I won’t die without a fight.

As the dark pine forest flashes past the window, I reach for the door handle while simultaneously unclipping my seatbelt. The moment it unlatches, a ding of warning sounds in the car, and as Devon yells a surprised ‘ hey ,’ I open the door and prepare to jump.