Page 9 of Rising

I rolled my eyes, blushing at the words that I knew deep down were true.

“What if Jax doesn’t make it?”

“He will.”

“But what if he doesn’t? What if I lose him?” He handed me a ceramic mug and picked up the coffee kettle that hung over the fireplace behind me. Stopping to grab three cubes of brown sugar, he dropped them into my mug, and poured me a cup of my comfort drink.

“Then we’ll get through it together. We had a vision for this place, all three of us. We’ll continue on for him, with his piece ofourvision in mind. Everything he wanted, we’ll accomplish. But for now, we’ll sip this coffee and he’ll be pissed we had it without him.”

I chuckled at that. Every evening the three of us sat in Prescott’s study, sipping on coffee and whatever effort of dessert The Kitchens made. Using the time to recount the day we had before diving into the needs of The Compound. Jax, who was chronically late, always got pissed if we started without him.

There was coffee readily available in The Kitchens at breakfast and dinner for the overnight crew, but occasionally on patrol trips Jax or I would find some name brand coffee container, stashed away or tossed in rubble. We’d stock it in Prescott’s study to enjoy for ourselves later on. It was no slight to the earth elementals who grew our coffee in The Gardens. Just sometimes it was nice to have a taste from The Before.

We had a council of citizens that also had a say in the happenings around here, but the three of us had started this place. It was our baby. Every decision we made was always fair, always taking the Council’s votes into account, but our votes counted twice theirs. Mostly, we followed the majority, but there’d been a few instances where we had to step in for fear of the stability of The Compound. Even if it wasn’t an option we wanted to follow through with ourselves.

Each Council member held their seat as respective to their powers, representing those who possessed similar gifts. But simply possessing magic didn’t make them knowledgeable when it came to the safety of The Compound, and that’s whyourvotes mattered the most. Our role was to put Compound first, our wants second.

Prescott sat at my side, a feeling of comfort washed over me as we sat in silence, allowing the minutes to pass us by until he left to meet with the Council on today’s incident. My absence would be excused, for now.

* * *

By the time I left,the rain had stopped. Sloshing through the puddles, I made my way back to Reina’s quarters, stopping only once to pick up a surprise from The Library.

I hadn’t noticed the blood on the white hides she used as decor on the floor before. Reina was adamant that every part of the animals be used if we were going to raise livestock. I’d always assumed that’s what her parents did back on the ranch.

Pulling the wooden chair from the table under the window and I brought it over to the light oak poster bed, Jax lay in, his breath still shallow.

“Hey, Jaxy,” I blubbered, putting his large hand into mine as I sat down. His light brown eyes shuttered open slightly, and I swore a smile tried to pull across his thin pale pink lips on his heavily freckled face. The tips of his fingers tapped faintly against my own.

“I brought Lord of the Flies. Your favorite.”

This time I was certain he smiled as he huffed a quipped laugh, followed by a groan at the pain it caused. “That’s your favorite, you goon.”

I shifted over, allowing him to face me, his now cleaned auburn hair fell towards his face. Reina must have ordered someone to clean him off a bit while we were at The Pit.

“I know, but now you can’t run from it, or cover your ears.” Smiling back at him, I cracked open the book.

It had always been a favorite, and Jax had always teased me for having anold white man’s taste in books. I’d first read it my freshman year and was fascinated. Always felt it embodied humanity perfectly. Id, Ego, and Superego. It represented civilization and its fight against savagery, how certain conditions could result in the loss of innocence, even in society’s purest population. Children. To me, it had always been a timeless read, one that would be relevant no matter the era humanity tumbled into.

Holding his hand, I read to him for hours and he listened. Watching me intently, studying my every feature. He’d always had a way of making me feel truly heard, I rambled for hours about anything and everything. Jax would hang on to every word, asking questions when appropriate, and staying silent as I processed my next thought.

“I love you, Amaia.” I stopped reading.

Each syllable left his lips with emotionally charged intent. Trying to express everything he felt and wanted to say, plus more. We didn’t say those words. I’d hated them after Xavier. Never wanted to hear them again. Jax had lost his fiancé in an accident months before bombs were dropped. This was something to which we’d always been on the same page.

Our union was more for the benefit of The Compound than it was for ourselves. A representation of strength and hope for the future. Neither he nor I protested it because we understood that in this new world, love and romantic soulmates were a luxury many couldn’t afford to nourish.

We were life partners and occasional lovers, but more than anything, we were family. Soulmates in a way that romantic love couldn’t touch. His inner fire only fueled my flames. He nourished my soul, and I his.

So even if those words meant to me what they meant to others, they weren’t words that we’d throw around the way he was now. They represented nothing but death and loss to us. Ifeltlove, sure. I would show it to everyone I cared for always, but I refused to say them because I refused to say goodbye.

“Stop Jax.” I glared at him. “Whatever you’re about to say, stop. I don’t want to hear them because this isn’t goodbye. Next week you’ll be walking around on the mend, laughing over a cup of coffee and crappy pie with me and Prescott. Just like we did without you tonight.”

“You prick, I knew it. Guess you could say I felt it in my gut.” He smiled, as if he had a sudden burst of energy. Leave it to him to find a way to throw in a morbid joke, one I would typically build on, but not today. Not in his condition.

“Yup, I’m an asshole. Prescott’s an asshole. Now channel that anger and get better because I need you.Weneed you.”

Squeezing my hand once more, a tear fell from his eye and he moved his finger to tip the back of the book. “Finish reading your shitty book.”