Page 35 of Jax

He parts my folds and inserts two thick fingers into my pussy as he focuses on my clit. I suction onto him, and he groans into my pussy before starting a rhythm he knows I can’t resist.

I tighten my hold on his hair. “Wait, Jax. Don’t.” He peers up at me, brows furrowing. “I want it to last,” I explain, my voice catching. When he doesn’t move, I snap my jaw shut. “Please.”

More tears spill over involuntarily, and Jax’s face hardens. He slows his rhythm, taking his time. I can almost fool myself into thinking he’s enjoying me now, and that’s the thought that does it. It doesn’t matter how fast or how slow he’s going, I come. I come so hard I nearly scream, ending my orgasm with a sigh of his name. Something I haven’t done in a very, very long time.

16

In the supply closet, I could fool myself into thinking Jax is still here for me, but the moment we exit, he disappears. Considering the shit I’ve done to him, I try not to take it personally but it became more obvious that I broke the Jax I used to know when I had to wipe my own tears.

The Ring is even busier tonight than last night. Still, it’s not difficult to find Leenie in the crowd. She spots me in the mess of bodies as I walk toward her seat at the bar. The look on her face says she’s already appraised me and is thinking of running recon. “You look like you need a drink.” She flags down a waiter and then uses a napkin to wipe at my face before handing it to me.

“You’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met,” I tell her as I take it from her and run it underneath my eyes. It’s a good thing I didn’t have makeup on or I’d be a mess.

She sighs. “Hardly. I’m not really on your side, Sadie. I’m on Jax’s.” She takes a sip of her own drink as we wait for mine. “The thing is, you’re also in troubleand,” she emphasizes, “Jax is too stubborn for his own good to see what’s in front of his face. So, do you want to talk about it?”

The waiter stops by with a drink. I peer at the slight green concoction, and Leenie tips it toward my face. I take a sip, a sour flavor coating the back of my throat. I give her a nod of appreciation while still avoiding her question. I haven’t really ever had a girl to talk to about shit. The girls at Psycho’s place would just as soon rat you out than fix your makeup. “I don’t know how to do this,” I confess.

“Well, lucky for you, I have a history of being a really good friend. Why don’t you start with this asshole who mistreats you?”

The Ring hardly seems like a good place to have a heart-to-heart but I like the anonymity of it. Plus, the guys aren’t around and everyone else is so caught up in their own stuff that they’re not even paying attention to us. “After I got kicked out of the Heights, he found me,” I say, knowing that’s only the last stroke of a painting that’s taken hours and hours and hours to complete. “He was the only avenue I had to put a roof over my head and food in my belly. I didn’t see the monster underneath for a very long time.”

Looking back, I understand now that I’d been groomed to be his accomplice from the beginning. He plied me with talk of love and then manipulated me into doing things I never would’ve done if I’d had the choice. Knowing Psycho, he planned it that way all along. I thought we were the Flat’s power couple, and we are, just not in ways I want to be.

“You should get help,” Leenie advises. “There are houses for young, abused women. Programs. I can help you get to one.”

I shake my head. It’s nothing that I hadn’t thought of before but to Psycho I’m an investment. He’s not going to let me go easily. These guys don’t understand that he’s not only an abuser, he’s depraved. He’s sick.

Leenie frowns. I can tell I’ve disappointed her. “It’s not like that,” I say. “I want to get out.”

My words hit me like a ten-ton truck to the face. I’d never allowed myself to fully feel that until now. Probably because in the Flats, I was completely hopeless. There are no ways out when you’re in the thick of things. However, being away from him—away from his games and torment—has shown me what I could have.

“Hey,” Leenie says when my lip starts to wobble. “Let’s see if the guys want to go home. We can continue talking there.”

“I don’t deserve Jax’s sympathy,” I say to her. “I know that. You can’t say anything to him if you want me to talk to you.”

Leenie searches my gaze. A slight nod tells me she hears me. She downs the rest of her drink, and I do the same before following her back to where the fighters have been hanging out. When Finn spots Leenie, he nods. It’s as if they have some sort of telepathic abilities because he immediately begins to say goodbye to his fighters and the others in their circle.

When we arrive, he puts his arm around her shoulders, and we walk back toward the door in the corner. Once we’re clear of the crowd, Leenie asks where Jax is.

“Haven’t seen him. I’ll text him when we get to the car.” He slides his fingers through hers, and I amble behind them like a broken third wheel. I guess I’m staying with these guys for now, based completely on Leenie’s need to help me, apparently. Finn has been less than welcoming, and Jax even worse than that.

We exit out a side door that might be the same one Security took Psycho’s crew out last night. We step out into the alleyway, and I immediately find the spot on the cement where Psycho had me on my knees. Tiny splatters of blood decorate the ground there. Seeing it again makes my face throb. The small amount of alcohol I consumed can’t even numb it.

We turn the opposite way and head to where Leenie parked the car earlier. The snap of cold air whipping down the alley makes me wrap my arms around myself. When we finally clear the edge of the building, Jax is leaning against the stark black vehicle, a piece of paper in his hand.

“We were wondering where you were,” Finn calls out.

Jax lifts his head. Instead of greeting his brother, he stares directly at me. The darkness in his gaze sends another shiver through me, and I stop. Something is off. His fist closes around the paper in his hand. Apprehension skirts over my skin. “What’s that?”

Finn jogs up to him, Leenie and I following closely behind. When he gets there, Finn plucks the object from his hand and stares down at it. “Really? Wow.”

Leenie moves to Finn’s side and peers around his arm. “Is that Clive?”

I have to stand up on my tiptoes to look around Finn’s shoulder but I see it then. It’s a picture of two fighters beating the shit out of each other in the warehouse. The photo is grainy as hell, most likely taken with a shitty cell phone. Scrawled across the top is a line saying,Guess your boy likes it here better.

“Wait, Clive?” I ask. “Isn’t he the one who was supposed to fight tonight?”

Finn’s jaw ticks. “Where did you find this?”

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