by Mj Fields
I showered and dressed before walking out into the living room and it’s a good thing I dressed; Russ was at the kitchen island.
“Good morning, Francesca,” he says without even turning around.
“Good morning, Russ. Where is Jax?” I ask after looking around and seeing he isn’t in the room.
“Should be back soon.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I grumble as I walk over and see the note, a note that gives me no answers at all.
I grab the phone and try to call, it goes to voicemail. I send a text asking him where he is, no answer. Another asking him when he’ll be back, again, no response. The third was direct; this is making me question things.
I have waited enough, worried enough, and questioned where he was… enough. I grab my keys and head out the door, fully aware I am being followed by the six foot four, blond haired brute that is grumbling behind my back. I get in the SUV, immediately lock the door, ensuring I am flying solo.
I throw it in reverse and look behind me to back out, ready to take off, yet still lacking a clear destination, when Jax pulls in behind me boxing me in. As soon as I see him step out of the car I feel relief flood over me. He is wearing his aviators so I can’t see his eyes but he stands tall, as he runs his uncast hand through his black hair that is longer than normal, due to the disruption of the demands of the military’s grooming requirements. His square jaw is lightly covered with dark stubble and his broad shoulders square.
He stands, waiting for me to get out and I hesitate. I am filled with emotions; happy he is alright, angry that the last time he left he went to her, confused as to which emotion is stronger. I close my eyes and try to push away the doubt that fills me.
I open my eyes when I hear a click and realize the doors have been unlocked and Jax is opening the driver’s side door.
“Move over, Frankie,” he says at the same time I hear his car starting up and looking in the rearview mirror to see Russ moving his car so it is no longer blocking me in.
I hesitate too long for his liking. “Angel,” his whispered plea is for my ears only and I hear vulnerability in it.
I crawl over the console and keep my eyes, that are burning, locked on the window.
The vehicle starts and he backs out. We are pulling forward when he reaches up and turns off the radio.
“You’re angry with me,” I say nothing. “You have no reason to be.”
I have every reason, I scream in my head.
He lets out a slow breath as the SUV comes to a stop at the light, “You can’t doubt me every second I’m not around, Frankie. This isn’t gonna work if-”
“What?” I croak out, unable to hold back, floored by the fact Jaxson is telling me we won’t work, angry because I know he saw her. The tears spill out and I try to open the door, needing to get away.
“Christ,” he grabs my arm and pulls me away from my escape, “You need to believe in the fucking vows we took. Don’t do that shit again.” I turn to him, ready to fire back. When he sees my tears his facial expression changes, “Don’t cry, don’t do that.”
He grabs my chin in his hand and his thumb wipes frantically at my tears. “I love you, Angel. I don’t want to make you cry-”
“Did you go to her?”
His mouth gapes momentarily and then his brows knit, “Of course not.”
I am relieved instantly but I am still angry, hurt, overcome with a feeling of betrayal. A betrayal that if I dig deep enough, I know stems from insecurities that Jax, the man I love, never caused me to have. He didn’t do this.
Even with the realization, I am still angry.
“Why? Why can’t you just--”
“You were sleeping, Francesca Irons,” he over pronounces his last name, my last name. “Even if you weren’t I would have never taken you with me to poke the bear.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, pulling away and wiping my tears.
“I went to see Mother.”
“Alone? Jax, I-”
His face turns rigid, his features become sharper, even his eyes turn icy, “She knows more than she has let on, I told her I knew she did. I asked her how it was that I ended up in bed with Mimi, all those years ago. I told her I was going to take back everything she has stolen from me.”
He turns away when a car behind us blows its horn, and he punches the gas.
I reach over and rest my hand on his leg, “I know you are angry, Jax. But understand that so am I. Don’t do that to me again, don’t leave without telling me where you are. Hell, don’t go without me. If she has anything to do with-”
“I won’t put you in danger; damn it, Francesca.”
“And I won’t accept that you are putting yourself in danger, Jaxson!” I pull my hand away and he pulls over to the side of the road. He throws the car in park and grabs my hand.
“What you will do is listen to me, trust me, and do as I tell you. I have started a war, Francesca. I have chosen you, me, and.” He stops
“And who, Jaxson,” I half cry, half yell.
His eyes close tight and he shakes his head.
“Say it,” I whisper, knowing that she has weighed heavily on the heart he believes is not capable of giving enough love.
“Firefly,” he whispers back.
My tears flow faster, harder, and freer, because I know he needs this, he needs her, he needs to right the wrongs of the past. Wronging an honorable man, like Jaxson, who never asked for, or was aware of any wrongdoing; he didn’t even know.
“I love you,” I say as I hold his face gently in my hands.
The noise that comes from deep in his chest is one of a pained man, a man whose emotions have never been allowed to fully release.
“I love you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
I repeat the words over and over as I feel his body stop trembling and I feel him shake slightly.
His head falls to my shoulder and rests on it. “We can do this.”
He sits up and nods once. His eyes focus forward as he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. “In the end, everything is going to be just fine.”
“Of course it is.” I squeeze his hand.
I LAY BESIDE HER, DRAPED in sheets, watching her sleep. Loving the fact that after I am inside of her she is able to drift off, even if only for ten minutes, and I’m envious that I can’t do the same. My hope is that someday soon, I may enjoy that luxury too.
I sit up and know that now is the time to bring my brothers in on what I have started. I know they are expecting a call. I’m sure that, by now, they have gotten word that I poked the bear today.
After maneuvering my way into some ball shorts and a tee-shirt, I hobble out to the kitchen and the door opens.
“You wanna tell me why you can’t let us know this shit storm is starting before it starts?” Shadows throws his aviators on his head as he walks over to the Keurig.
I sit on the stool and lean my crutch against the island counter, “I assumed you’d be informed. Besides, it was a last minute decision.”
“You going after the kid?” Titan grabs the cup of coffee out of the machine before Shadows has a chance and sits next to me.
“Asshole,” Shadows grumbles as he pops another cup in the machine.
“Keep it down,” I say in a hushed tone and nod towards my room. “She’s resting.”
“She’s pissed, huh?” Shadows asks as he leans against the counter.
“Yes, which poses a problem.”
“Problem?” Titan takes a sip.
“She has to be kept safe. She is my number one priority. If something happens-”
“You trust us to handle it?” Titan, takes another drink and Shadows sits next to him.
“I trust you with my life.”
“Say no more.”
I sit back and look up at the ceiling. There are a few ways to deal with this situation. After seeing Francesca just a short time ago, I realize two things. First, Francesca loves me. Second, as s
trong as we are in our relationship and commitment to it, she is not strong enough to control her emotions.
Emotions are weakness. She cannot turn them off, and I would never want her to. But I will not have her weak and vulnerable.
The world is a cruel place; it’s dark and uncertain. Frankie is my privilege, my light, my hope, but she is also a woman who is easily prone to insecurity. A woman, unlike my mother, whose heart is as black as her soul. A woman I have the responsibility and honor to protect.
I look at Titan and Shadows who are watching me, trying to read me. Titan’s head shakes from side to side, slightly, and Shadows smirks.
“When?” Titan asks, settling back in his stool.
“The sooner the better,” I answer.
~*~
Frankie came out after Titan and Shadows left, she is in my gray Navy shirt that hangs to her knees. Her hair is still tussled and her full lips still a deeper red than normal.
“Did I hear Titan and Shadows earlier?”
I nod, my eyes trained on hers as I try to gauge if she overheard our conversation; when she walks towards me I know she hasn’t.
She is now standing between my legs, eyes locked on mine. I lean forward and rub my nose along her jawbone. I inhale the scent that now is mixed with mine. Hers sweet and fragrant, mine earthy and masculine.
Her hands link behind my neck as her head rests against mine.
“It’s only noon and you’ve put me to bed twice already.”
“I like you in bed,” I say as I lean back.
Momentarily, I see her youth, her innocence, and the open vulnerability that only a few short months ago infected me. Little did I know what that would lead to. It opened me up to an unknown vulnerability.
A weakness.
Revelations strike when least expected. In knowing ones weakness we become stronger. We are better able to strategize for a battle and to plan a war. In her softness, I found more strength than I could have ever imagined.
“Talk to me, Jax,” she says as her petite hand cups my chin.
“I realize that you are still upset with me about earlier, Francesca, but for now, just let me look at you.” The words come out without thought.
She looks at me curiously for a moment and then stands taller.
After several moments she finally takes in a breath, “Enough?”
I shake my head slowly back and forth, “No, not ever enough.”
“We have a lifetime,” a question lingers in a statement that is meant to be delivered with the confidence Frankie and all her innocence holds.
“Even that’s not enough.”
“You’re worried, and you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I won’t let you.”
Like revelations, lightning rarely strikes alone and I nod.
“There is a fundraiser tomorrow night. I was scheduled to go with-”
“I won’t let you,” her eyes narrow and her voice shakes.
“You didn’t let me finish, Mrs. Irons.” I pull her onto my lap without her resistance, “We will go together.”
“Your mother will freak.”
“And she’ll do so in front of men and women who fund campaigns, who are standing beside Father, who have all been played for years to focus on a family whose political aspirations don’t end with Father like they assume, they end with me.”
“With you as President.”
“With us. One step at a time. Before we take DC, Francesca, we take Virginia.”
“We,” she closes her eyes deep in thought.
“I won’t do it without you.”
Her eyes open quickly, “I won’t let you.”
“When do you get Lily?” She asks.
The sound of her name causes me a pain, one that I felt only one other time, when I was in Pensacola, when I worried about Frankie.
I missed her, yearned for her. I wanted her, but the desire was not purely sexual. I am a man who has been able to have everything he’s wanted his entire life. My mother tried to raise an entitled son, my father fought to raise a man who worked towards his goals with perseverance, a soldier and a patriot. Father won. Now, I want my child. I want to protect her, raise her, and love her.
Now armed with the knowledge that she struggles and with Francesca by my side, I no longer doubt that I can be a father and help my little firefly shine.
~*~
“Do I look alright?” Francesca asks me for what seems like the thousandth time in less than an hour, as she turns and looks in the mirror, again.
“Stunning.” And she does. She is dressed in a floor length strapless black gown. The back is cut lower than the front. Low enough that, moments ago, I looked too long and nearly could not stop the blood flow from causing the half erection to become full and uncontrollable. The front is very modest, revealing just enough for a man who devours her body, sometimes several times a day, to want to tear the dress from her. Her hair is placed over her left shoulder, in waves and her lips are red with lipstick. Francesca rarely wears makeup, never lipstick; tonight, my angel looks older and more like a siren than the name I call her now.
“Are you sure, Jax? I have never been to-” I stand in front of her, take her hand, and place it on my now fully erect dick. “Oh,” she gasps.
“If you looked any better we wouldn’t be leaving tonight. As it is, we must. So please, Angel, don’t ask me again, because then I’m forced to look at you and I’m sure if I get any harder, my skin will split from the pressure.”
“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” she smirks.
“You’re playing with fire right now, you know that don’t you?”
Her hand slides slowly up and down me on the outside of my pants and she bites her lip, then smirks. “I’m pretty sure I’m playing with Iron.”
Control. I am merely praying for control and she is tempting me. I force myself to step back and she sways her hips ever so slightly.
“Go get your ass in the vehicle before I pin you to the wall.”
~*~
I walk into the ballroom and look around. My eyes immediately notice Mimi walking towards me in a red dress. She is smiling. She hasn’t smiled in some time.
“Look at you,” she says as she lifts herself on her toes and presses her cheek against mine, making a kissing sound.
“You look well, Mimi,” I say as I step back.
“Well. Okay, I’ll take well.” I don’t respond. She is fishing. Mimi is a beautiful woman. Men watch her as she walks by. They stare. But I am unaffected. I wouldn’t want Frankie to be upset if I told her she looked anything more than well. “Your mother is there,” she points her empty champagne flute towards the bar. “Come say hello.”
She attempts to link her arm in mine and I walk towards Mother, avoiding her. I hear her gasp in surprise from behind me. Her annoyance is clearly caused by my blatant avoidance.
Mother looks up and then whispers something into Mimi’s father, Arthur’s, ear as she hands Mimi’s mother, Maxine, another drink. I look around the ballroom for my father as I walk with one crutch towards Mother.
“Jaxson, what a pleasant surprise.” She smiles as she leans forward, giving me her cheek to kiss. This is a public display I am used to with her, but today I don’t lean in.
“Where’s Father?” I ask, looking around.
“He had a call, told me to go ahead without him, he should be here anytime,” she answers as she looks behind me.
The expression on her face is enough to tell me Francesca is coming. She purposely used the restroom to give me time to say hello to Mother, to give her the illusion that I may have had a change of heart.
I turn and watch her walk up to us. Her shoulders are squared, her head held high. She exudes a confidence; it’s a mask, but no one knows this but me. Francesca is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman in this room, in the world.
I reach out my hand and she takes it. I pull her to my side and lean down to kiss her cheek, taking the opportunity to whisper in her ear, “You
were supposed to wait longer.”
“I chose not to.”
“I see that.” I wink at her as I look up at my mother, Mimi, and Mimi’s parents.
“Jaxson, a word,” Mother hisses.
“Not now, Mother, I’m going to dance with my wife.”
“She is not-”
“Helen,” Arthur says sternly and she stops. His eyes leave hers and he looks at me, “Are you really willing to throw away all the time and effort that has been put into building your political career for a piece of-”
“Watch it Deveroux,” I say, as I lean towards him.
“You watch it,” he pauses, “Son.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? You are a fucking pawn a-”
“Come on, Jax,” Frankie says, gripping my hand tighter. “They don’t deserve even a second of your time.”
I watch the disdain in my mother’s face when she spoke, and it sickens me.
I look at Frankie, her eyes are warm, soft, and there is nothing but what I have come to know as love in them. She wraps her arm around me and we make our way to the dance floor.
“Can’t dance so great right now,” I say as I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her tight against me.
“You can dance, Jax,” she smiles as she links her hands around my neck.
I rest my chin on top of her head and close my eyes, attempting to lose myself in her touch, her smell…her love.
I am beyond angry at Mother. I am beyond certain that this war makes me nervous, knowing that I am allowing emotions to set in. I don’t want Francesca, my wife, my angel, more than an arm’s reach away from me.
“I have to use the bathroom, Jax,” she whispers as she pulls away.
“I’ll go too.”
She smiles as she shakes her head. “No, go speak to the people you need to. I will find you when I’m done.” She turns back to me. “Will it be long?”
“No, Angel.”
“Good. I can’t wait to be home with you.”
She turns back around to leave. I look away, making sure Mother and the Deveroux family are not near her. When I look back I notice the eyes on her. Men and women, old and young. Her beauty doesn’t go unnoticed; her grace is more apparent than before, as she very gracefully floats away. My wife is stunning.
