Page 102 of Triple Power Play 3
45
ETHAN
Fucking Jackson.
The night is pitch-black. There are no windows, no light filtering outside—only blackness. I can’t see a foot in front of me.
Why are there no outdoor lights on?
Jax avoided meeting my eyes the entire drive, his knee bouncing. When I went to talk to him, he slammed the door in my face.
He was adamant about getting his motorcycle tonight, despite having no interest in riding prior. Grant left with a girl, and Jax still wanted his bike.
He’s unpredictable, all over the place lately. My fear is he’s taking off. He arranged for us to succeed without him—he transferred everything in our names and provided evidence to Reece—and now, he’s targeting Hugo.
I edge around the garage in search of another entrance. Thorny bushes snag my clothes and scratch my face, adding to my irritation. When I get my hands on him… I don’t know whether I’ll wring his neck or plead with him to stay.
Wring his neck and demand he stay—that’s more my style.
Maybe Reece is right, and I’m too easy on him.
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs, and will my agitation to calm the fuck down. It’s pointless; my chest still aches.
Earlier, I received a text from Robert stating Anaheim offered to buy out Jackson’s contract and management was taking the long weekend to consider it. I wanted to rage, but I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t ruining Aurora’s Thanksgiving with her grandmother.
It’s only an offer, I told myself.Nothing has been confirmed. But the longer I stewed, the angrier I became. Then, we ended up at the same bar—which we should’ve never stepped foot in—as Robert’s family?
Bullshit.
So, I watched Jackson tee-hee with Grant, like my world wasn’t collapsing, and grew increasingly aggravated.
Even with our relationship, I have a hard time believing management would be foolish enough to trade Jax in the middle of the season. They’d let me go first. He initiated the trade. That’s the only explanation.
Anaheim is an hour away; he can still live at home, but does he plan on traveling with Aurora and my baby?
The knife twists deeper in my gut. He wouldn’t fucking dare.
The ground suddenly drops behind the building, and I stumble, losing my footing. I instinctively reach out and find the wall to keep from falling. For a moment, I’m disoriented until a rumble breaks the silence, and I jolt.
A garage door. He must be exiting through the back.
I sneak closer, pressed to the cold stucco. A chill runs down my spine, and my arms bristle with goosebumps.
The door retracts, and light from inside illuminates the property. It’s not at all what I envisioned—at least, not compared to the front. The view from the gate was limited, a glimpse of the pristine white mansion blending into the hillside. The shrubbery obscured everything beyond the house and garage.
Before me appears to be a courtyard, but unlike ours, which is breezy and colorful, this is overgrown and eerie, with bare trees reaching into the dark sky. It reminds me of a creepy graveyard. No tombstones, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few.
Jax guides his bike onto the stone path from the garage, and I hold my breath, remaining as quiet as possible. Gears whine and metal clanks as he parks the bike. He turns away, and I seize the opportunity to jump out and wrap him in a headlock.
“Going somewhere?” I growl.
Without hesitation, he throws his head back, colliding with my mouth.
Sharp pain radiates through my jaw, the metallic taste of blood flooding my tongue. My teeth now have a pulse.
I’m not sure how I expected him to respond to being surprised in the dark, butfuck!
I stagger back and spit blood.
