27. Jax

Jax

T he house could light up its own town with the glow from every window. There are too many to count in the quick strides before we reach the top of the landing. The door opens, and a black and white clad servant smiles and welcomes us into the house.

A wave of nostalgia sweeps over me, and I see River running with Stevie close behind, children screaming while our father stomps his feet and roars before playfully chasing after them. On the landing, a tiny, scared face of a nine-year-old me, watching in growing awe and longing. Tiny little Andy had grabbed my hand and dragged me down the stairs, leading me to a hiding spot. She could barely walk, and she hadn't learned to hate me yet.

"Mmm, children snacks." Booms the giant man.

Andy squeals and lets out a peal of giggles. I look down at her and can't help but smile. Her eyes are twinkling, and her cheeks are rosy. She looks like a little angel. The door opens, and my father grabs Andy and kisses her all over her face before turning to me.

"A new snack."

He grabs me up so carefully and kisses my cheeks. It's not the same, but no one but mama has kissed me before. I'm in awe of this huge man.

"Mwahaha, but I'm still hungry," he growls and cuddles me close. I relax in his hold, giggling helplessly. Andy piles on, and he scoops her up in one arm. Stevie and River appear, and he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around them, squeezing us all close.

"Come on, kids, let's go harass Ms Diamond. I heard she made cake," my father booms.

The kids scream and race for the kitchen, but I stay and nervously hold the hand of my father. He walks slowly with me, pointing out various pieces of art and telling outrageous lies about them.

The memory slips away, and I glance to my left and find Dane standing close enough that our sleeves are brushing. He glances at me, but his eyes are guarded, and his face is a mask.

I suck in a breath and hold it before blowing it out slowly. Andy and Jeraldine slowly descend the stairs, and I'm in awe of how perfect they are. They look like supermodels, they are both in tailored, expensive dresses, Jeraldine's in gold, while Andy is wearing grey and has a lower on the bust line. It's the standard uniform for dinner. We must always look our best. Stevie comes down a few moments later, moving with less care and a look of complete boredom in her expression. Her red hair glints like fire in the yellow lights, and her black dress is classy sophistication.

"Here we go," I say under my breath. "Prepare yourselves."

River races out from a side door, sliding across the marble floor, and interrupts their carefully staged descent with a wild whoop. Gods, I love that boy. He is so much like Dad. He's wearing a blue shirt and black slacks but has made the inexcusable error of forgetting his jacket and tie. I love it.

He ignores the way Dane stiffens and picks me up, swinging me around, and slaps a wet kiss to my cheek.

"Eww!"

"You love it." River holds his hand out to Dane. "Hey, man, nice to see you again."

Dane takes it and glances at me. I smirk and raise a brow.

I ignore their chatter as I watch Rafael smoothly intercept Jeraldine and Andy. He looks really good, simple, with a white shirt and dark jeans. Casual. I want to peel that shirt off him, taste him again. I'm aware of everything he does, and I can't stop looking at him, even out of the corner of my eye. My stepmother flushes and raises a hand to pat her hair. Every movement is artful and everything I'm not.

Stevie approaches and widens her eyes. "So, back to steal our fortunes or ruin us?"

I roll my eyes, but the entrance has fallen silent with her bitchy words. Which she knows full well, it was no doubt her intent. Those words were designed to remind everyone who I am and why I shouldn't be here.

"Simply eating tonight, Stevie," I say politely.

"How unusually tactful of you." Stevie narrows her eyes and purses her painted lips, but before she can say anything, Dane takes my hand in his and raises my hand to his lips. I watch in complete fascination. His black shirt clings to his chest like a second skin. He looks hotter than he has any right to, and he knows it. Rafe might be unaware, but Dane uses his sensuality as a weapon, and right now, it's directed at me. A small flame of something ignites in my chest as his tongue flicks over my knuckle.

"This is my Dane," I say in a breathy murmur and almost bite off my own tongue when I realise what I've just said.

Stevie glances between the two of us and mutters something before bowing out of this strange pissing contest. ‘My Dane' sounds right, and yet, I rip my eyes from his and find Rafael. He raises a glass of champagne slightly and smiles. It confuses me enough that I pull my hand free and take a step back.

"Thanks," I mutter.

"No problem." Dane's voice is equally quiet. "Can't help but feel there's a bit of tension here."

"Yeah, well, don't expect it to be pleasant. We are entering a whole new world of polite warfare." I clench my teeth and smile at my stepmother as she approaches.

"Jeraldine, so good to see you."

She blinks at me and turns to Dane. "And who is this handsome young man?"

"This is-"

"I'm her boyfriend," Dane says quickly and smirks lazily.

I'm so flustered for a moment I can't do anything but stare at him.

"Right, this is Dane Galbraith."

Jeraldine gives me a strange look. "Funny, the young man over there introduced himself as your boyfriend."

"I have two," I say and immediately panic when my mind corrects me with three. Where the hell did that come from, and why did it feel right and wrong at the same time? A dark voice and hands I know better than I know my own pops into my mind and whispers the word ‘mine' so loud it's all I can hear. My heart aches. I miss him.

I shiver, and Dane moves closer. "Cold, love?"

I look up at him, and he leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of my lips. I want to lick the spot and see if I can taste him there. He almost pushes Gideon from my mind.

I belatedly shake my head.

"Ahh, there she is." My father's booming voice drags me from the confusing thoughts. He comes striding in, his partner Richard at his side. My father looks impeccable as always in his normal suit. I wonder if he even owns a t-shirt.

Richard gives the room a bored, level look but doesn't peel away when Edward comes marching towards me. He doesn't hesitate to hug me, and I hug him back, laughing softly.

"Hello, Miss Shade," Richard says politely, but he turns to Dane and starts chatting away, leaving my father drawing me away from the group.

"I took care of that thing for you, my darling."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You are most welcome. He is charming, enchanting, even. Reminds me of River when he was a little tyke." My father rubs his hand across his chin, and there is a dark concern in his eyes. "Have you heard anything about the young woman, his mother?"

"No. Nothing yet." I let out a defeated sigh.

"Do we have to keep up this pretense? Can't we just be family? I don't understand what you're so afraid of. I can take care of it, whatever it is."

I jerk my head back and look around. "Dad, leave it. I…You can't, just trust me."

My mouth opens and closes, but I can't think of anything to say. The guilt wells up, threatening to drown me, steal my sanity, and pull me into darkness. There are secrets and demons waiting for me there, but my father pulls me into a hug, and it fades away.

"I'm here for you. This time, I'm going to be here for you. I just couldn't bear it if you disappeared again."

I blink back tears and hug him tighter. "I won't, I promise."

"Dinner is served," A voice says from the doorway.

My father leads me into the dining room and guides me to a seat on his right. I narrow my eyes at my father, shake my head a tiny fraction, and move down one. River catches on quickly and slides into the spot between my father and I. Dane sits next to me on the left, and Rafael beside him. On the other side, Richard sits beside Dad, Jeraldine beside him, then Stevie and Andy.

Plates are set before us. I try to determine what the food is, but there's barely three mouthfuls on the plate, and I don't recognise anything. I pick up my fork and poke at it dubiously.

Dane leans in close. "It's salmon. Try it."

I scowl and lift a delicate forkful to my lips. The taste is full of flavours I can't identify, but it does taste good.

Edward and Richard talk of local events with Rafael. It amazes me how easily he's able to slip into a persona that enables him to so completely charm my dad.

The door opens, and Phil stomps in. "Sorry, I'm late." His tie is crooked, and his shirt is buttoned in the wrong hole. Phil looks harried.

He pulls out the empty seat beside Andy and sits down before he looks down the table, and his eyes darken when they see me. He leans in close to Andy and whispers something in her ear. She shies away from him and shoots him a dirty look.

The server places a plate in front of him and pours him a glass. He squints down the table and eyes Rafael for a long enough moment that my hackles start to rise.

"Did you sort out your business the other night?" Phil inquires.

The table falls silent, and I can almost feel my stepmother's burning glare.

"I did, thank you. I apologise that we interrupt-"

"Don't apologise, Jax." My father draws himself up, turning to face Phil. A long, silent conversation happens, and satisfaction fills me when Phil looks away first.

"What kind of business?" Jeraldine snaps. "Surely, she's not asking for more money."

I close my eyes and remind myself that she's family and I can't punch her.

"Jerry!" My father snaps. "She was fourteen when she asked for that money. And it was a gift. For fuck's sake, woman! Get over it!"

"Well, seriously, you can't be helping her out of all her problems. She's old enough to do it herself."

My father flushes beet red. "Enough."

"It's just like her to come crawling back after all this time, thinking she can weasel herself back into your graces and take advantage of your generosity."

Edward slams his hand on the table, shaking with his fury. "I said enough!"

Jeraldine slowly puts down her fork and stands up. "I don't feel very well. Please, excuse me."

I glance up and catch Richard's eye. He smiles, a kind of commiserating smile that hurts more than it helps. My throat feels tight, and I don't know whether to stand up and leave or sit and keep eating. Dane slides his hand over my thigh. The warm pressure gives me the strength to pick up my fork and continue eating like I don't care.

He leans in to me and breathes two words that make me flush and catch my breath.

"Good girl."

I snap my head in his direction and narrow my eyes at the challenging tilt to his chin.

"I am not a good girl," I hiss back.

"Mmm." He takes a bite of his food, all polite manners, and ignores me.

River nudges my elbow. "You right?"

I nod tightly. "Sure am, little brother."

"Now, say that again like you mean it." River snorts and leans closer still. I lean towards him. "Phil is on the outs with Dear Old Papa, not just tonight, but there are rumours of him and a certain young woman. Andy remains tight-lipped and denies it, of course. But I'm sure she's much more discreet with her lover."

I gape at River. "Oh, my god, why are you telling me this?"

"Because I had to suffer through the entire episode, and now you, too, shall know my pain. Stevie is silent as the grave, as always, but for her cutting remarks and strange observations. Jeraldine is beside herself with the shame of such unworthy offspring. Which is why she is lashing out at you this evening. Of the four of us, you are the least embarrassing, and she loathes it."

I snicker and raise a brow at Dane when his hand tightens on my thigh.

"And what about you?"

"Well, I stole a motorcycle yesterday because I was desperate for some much needed attention, but alas, my sisters upstaged me. I shall endeavor to cause more mayhem so that I, too, may be screamed at until three in the morning."

"River, if you are going to fill her head with shit, say it out loud so the rest of us can call you out on your bullshit lies." Stevie's eyes flash, but her smile is pure evil.

Dad grumbles a warning at us.

I glance down the table and catch Andy in a rare moment. She stares with longing at Dad. My stomach clenches. I wish I could help her. Maybe she really doesn't want to marry him. Maybe she's doing this for Dad. I should talk to her, but she won't listen to me. How stupid. Andy looks up, and her face smooths out. Phil ignores her completely and eats with a single-minded intensity.

They're angled away from each other, and neither of them speaks. Dane clears his throat and reaches in front of my plate for my water. He takes a sip and replaces it in front of me. I stare at the glass, mesmerised, such a small thing, but it's so personal.

"That was mine," I say belatedly.

"Was." Dane smiles and strokes his hand from my knee all the way up my leg. I snap them closed and glower at my glass.

"Are you all right, Jax? You look constipated." River laughs and takes a mouthful of his wine.

"I'll kick your ass, River, I swear," I say with a scorching hot face.

"You can try," River dares me.

Dane removes his hand, and it's a welcome relief that comes shockingly with a bolt of regret. I don't have time to wallow because he leans back and places his arm behind my chair and lets his fingers dance up and down my nape, rubbing tiny circles in the bottom of the hairline.

I sit stiffly, cursing Rafael for convincing me to wear it up, and try to hide the shivers. All my body wants to do is melt into the touch, turn into a complete puddle, and purr with pleasure. I hold it together by a thread. But when River taps my hand, I almost jump out of my skin, tipping over my glass.

River explodes into laughter as I curse and silently rail at the perverse nature of men.

"Bit distracted tonight, sister? I guess I would be, too, if I had a boyfriend for each arm."

I exhale through my teeth and pick up my spoon to stab into the dessert. By the time I've finished it, I have no idea what it tasted like, and my attention is evenly split between Dane and his stroking fingers and River and his jokes. I feel coiled tighter than a windup toy.

Mason opens the door and slips in. He heads straight to my dad, but he looks over at me. My stomach sinks. I push to my feet and move around the table. Dad and Mason meet me there. I'm barely aware of River, Dane, and Rafe beside me.

As soon as the door closes behind us, I grip Mason's hand. "Is it Cherise?"

He glances at my father, who nods slightly.

"Yes. I'm so sorry."

"Where?"

He turns towards the garden, and I just know. I take off running, jumping the steps two at a time, and following the path until I get to the gazebo in the middle of Jeraldine's dahlia garden.

In the dim light, she looks peaceful. She's sitting up, and her eyes are closed. She's dressed in a beautiful white gown, and there is a dahlia on her lap. It could be a beautiful scene. It could be so innocent, and that's what is so perverse about it. The corruption of innocence. My mind traces over every detail, comparing it to the photos, to what I know. Bruises on her wrists and ankles, burns on her calves and forearms, cuts on her chest. The gaping wound of the killing slice straight from ear to ear.

Mason shines a light, and the stark white of her skin and the white of the dress contrasts with the exquisite, painful crimson hue that covers her chest and the top of the bodice and that dahlia.

The dahlia that is a calling card. The dahlia dipped in blood.

"Mason, I need you to lift her dress. I need to see her hip."

Mason checks in with my father, and then edges forward. He is hesitant and gentle when he lifts the dress. More wounds are exposed, too many to count.

I did this.

I should have known better. I don't look at Dane or Rafael, but I see them there, throat sliced, so many wounds. Cherise wears so many faces. I see my father there, my siblings, her son, Jacob, Sparrow, Astaire, Titan, every person I know lays there in that moment.

I suck in a startled breath as the dress inches up to her hips. I'm shocked even though I was half prepared to see it. The dahlia brand on her hip, identical to mine. Did she scream the way I screamed or was there mercy for my friend?

Rafe glances over at me. I can feel his eyes, but I ignore him. There is nothing I can tell him right now. Even if I was capable, I still wouldn't tell him. Some secrets are better left in the dark, and this one is between me and the dead.

"That's impossible," I whisper so quietly no one hears me. In some distant part of myself, I know that I've gone numb, that the pain is there, and I will soon feel it in stereo, but for now, the floating part of myself turns and walks away.