Dangerous Curves

by James, Marysol

  There was a flurry of movement in the room now, with Kane’s friends all launching themselves at King and Jax. The men turned to meet the attack, and Sarah watched in horror as Jax and King started punching the hell out of anyone who came within arm’s-reach.

  Curtis and Dillon joined the fray, and suddenly bodies were flying everywhere. Tables crashed and glass shattered, and Sarah stood there with a knife to her throat and watched the gentle, loving man that she was sleeping with turn in to a brutal, violent machine.

  The power in Jax’s punches stunned her – everyone he touched seemed to almost explode in blood. The one man he hit went down right away and without a sound; another one was crawling away when Jax beat his head on the floor. The sound of flesh and bone making contact with concrete shocked and sickened her, and she retched. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see any more.

  Kane shook her again, twisted the point of the knife. “You shut the fuck up, bitch.”

  Despite being outnumbered, Jax and the guys were handling the situation surprisingly easily. The drugged men were off-balance, uncontrolled, and that made them vulnerable and clumsy. Within minutes, Kane’s buddies were on the floor, all knocked out cold, and Jax was facing him down again.

  Sarah opened her eyes, then wished she hadn’t. Jax was covered in blood, his knuckles raw and swollen. He was enraged now, and any control he’d had over himself was long gone. He was ferocious, furious, and Kane knew it. He dug the knife deeper in to her throat and a sound of pain escaped her.

  “I said shut the fuck up!” Kane roared. “You want me to cut your throat right here?”

  “Let. Her. Go.” Jax’s eyes and tone were both steel. “You’re all alone here, man, and if you do anything more to her, I’ll deliver you to Jensen in pieces. I mean that literally.”

  “You care if I kill your little cunt, Hamill?” Kane held her out to Jax, taunting and teasing, then yanked her back, his fingers digging in to her throat and cutting off her air again. “You want to watch me slice her up?” He pushed the knife deeper and some drops of blood fell on the floor.

  Sarah watched Jax look down at her blood, then watched him turn in to someone she didn’t know and certainly didn’t recognize. He was seconds away from killing Kane… she felt it.

  Suddenly, she was jerked backwards, hard and fast. She gave a cry as she went, and it was part-shock at falling, and part-relief that the pain of the knife was gone. Kane’s arms weren’t around her anymore, and without them, her balance was thrown. She flailed, trying to get her feet back under her, and she couldn’t.

  Then Jax was there, pulling her up and towards him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, the other caught behind her knees, and he lifted her. She gasped, still fighting to breathe, and he carried her away from the room, down the hall. Sarah buried her face in his chest, trying to understand how she could be against his familiar body.

  What the fuck just happened? How did I get here?

  Jax kicked the office door closed behind them and sat down on the massive leather sofa, with Sarah in his lap. He cupped her face in his wrecked hands, still unable to believe that she was away from that fucking monster.

  “Sarah.” He saw her eyes spark to life. “Sarah.”

  “Jax…”

  A wave of relief smashed right through him. “Yeah, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  “But – how…who…”

  “Aidan.” Jax leaned back a bit, trying to take her in all at once. “He hit Kane from behind.”

  She shook her head, bewildered.

  “Hey, it’s OK.” He kissed her forehead now, gentle and soft. “You’re safe.”

  “I – I don’t… what happened?”

  “Aidan.” Jax spoke more slowly now. “Aidan was behind you, and Kane didn’t see him coming.”

  Sarah nodded now. “Aidan…”

  “Yeah.” Jax smoothed her hair back, then extended her neck. “Let me take a look at this.”

  She winced when he touched the cut on her throat, and his eyes changed. That look was back now, the one that she’d seen just before falling. Cold, unforgiving, unrelenting. The eyes of a man who’d hurt and kill and not care at all. A man who might even enjoy it.

  “Jax,” she whispered.

  His face softened, and he looked like himself again. Still angry, still worried, but reachable now. She let her whole body sink on to him, and when he held her gently, she fully relaxed.

  “Shhh, baby.” He rocked her a bit, trying to help her feel secure. “You’re OK now, I promise you.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Sarah jumped. Jax ran a soothing hand down her back.

  “Come in,” he called.

  It opened and Aidan sauntered in. His blond hair was tousled, and he sported a welt on his cheek. He grinned at Sarah like nothing at all had happened, so cocky and unconcerned, but his golden eyes were watchful.

  “You doing OK?”

  She nodded again.

  “I brought the first-aid kit,” Aidan said to Jax. “You want to clean her up, or you want me to call Mac?”

  “I’ll do it.” Jax held her closer. “You get everyone out and lock up. Curves is closed until tomorrow.”

  “No problem, boss.” He set the kit on the sofa next to Jax, along with Sarah’s purse and jean jacket.

  “Aidan?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Yeah, hon?”

  “Thank you.”

  He paused, then gently touched her hand. “You’re welcome, Sarah. I’m just glad you’re OK.” He gave her a smile, then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  “Wait,” Sarah said to Jax. “What are they going to do with – with those guys?”

  His face tightened. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll get them back to their clubhouse.”

  “In pieces?” she said, trying to make a joke.

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed at the total lack of emotion in his voice, and dropped her eyes. He stared at her again, starting to really get the full sense of what could have happened out there. He looked at the purple fingermarks on her throat, at the oozing blood dripping on to her shirt, and he felt nothing but relief to be holding her now.

  He wasn’t about to tell Sarah that Donovan Kane had killed four women, that Jax knew of – though the man always seemed to have a convenient alibi for the times of the murders, courtesy of Kirk Jensen – and that every one of those poor souls had had their throat slashed. If Jax were a betting man, he’d say that Kane had used that exact same fucking knife that had just been pressing down on Sarah’s wildly pulsing jugular.

  Jax also wasn’t about to enlighten her about Kane’s rap sheet of crimes that had actually stuck: three counts of rape, four counts of physical assault, a grand total of eleven years in jail. He was a dangerous, twisted fuck, and the truth was that he’d have killed her without batting an eyelash, just to make a point. Sure, Jax would have beaten him to death in retaliation, but that wouldn’t have brought Sarah back.

  If I’d lost her – goddamn. I’d have died right along with her, one way or another.

  He shook himself. He had to hold it together for Sarah. She looked shocked and unfocused right now, but it was going to hit her soon enough. When it did, he’d have to be comforting.

  “OK, Red.” She looked up at him, surprised at him using that teasing nickname in a light tone. “Let me fix you up.”

  He cleaned the cut, then gently stuck a bandage on it, barely pressing down at all. His large hands were tender, careful, and she closed her eyes at his touch. She felt shattered now, almost weak, and she longed to just curl up and go to sleep.

  “Sarah?”

  “Hmmmm?” she murmured.

  “Hey, you here?”

  “Yeah. I’m just tired all of a sudden.”

  “It’s the shock. Lie down with me f
or a few minutes.”

  Jax yanked off his bloody t-shirt, pulled her down on to the sofa. He stretched out on his back and she rested her head on his shoulder. She lay her palm flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, its steady rhythm calming and centering her. Jax pulled her in tight and stroked her hair, listened to her breathing deepen and slow. In less than two minutes, she was fast asleep, and he closed his own eyes, willing himself to relax.

  She’s OK. She’s OK. She’s OK.

  After about twenty minutes, there was another knock at the door, and Sarah tensed, muttered in her sleep. Jax didn’t answer, and the door opened slowly. King poked his head in, then looked apologetic when he saw Sarah.

  “Sorry.” He kept his voice low. “She doing alright?”

  Jax nodded, still running his fingers through Sarah’s curls.

  “I just wanted to let you know that we’ve cleaned the place up. I’ll lock everything behind me, and Aidan’s put up a sign that you’re closed until noon tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, man. And not just for this – I mean for being by my side and having my back tonight.”

  “No problem, Jax. I hate those fuckers like poison, and I kind of enjoyed kicking their damn heads in.” He paused. “You want me to talk to Jensen for you?”

  “Would you?”

  “Hell, yeah. We have an understanding, me and him.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll take care of all of it.”

  “Thanks, Matt.” Jax rarely used King’s real name, but it felt right to do so at this moment. “I owe you. Big time.”

  King waved a huge hand. “Just take care of that girl, huh?”

  “I will.”

  “OK, good.” King switched on the desk lamp, pointed the glare away from the sofa, then he turned off the office light. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sarah opened her eyes, and blinked in confusion.

  What the hell? Why am I lying down in Jax’s office?

  “Baby? You awake?”

  Startled, she lifted her head. “Jax?” Then she saw his face in the dim light: it was bruised, his one eye was badly swollen, his lip split. She gasped. “Jax! What happened to you?”

  “Hey, shhhh, now.” He held her a bit closer. “I’m not the one to worry about here.”

  Sarah stared at him, clueless about just what the hell he meant. Then her neck gave a sharp throb, and she raised her hand to it. When her fingers touched the bandage, she remembered everything. Her breath caught.

  “Oh, God… Kane.”

  “Yeah.” Those green eyes were watching her steadily. “You OK?”

  “I – I think so.”

  “You in pain?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “You telling me the truth, doll?”

  “I am.”

  Jax nodded. “OK, then. You’ve been out for almost three hours. You feel better?”

  “Three hours?” She raised her wrist to squint at her watch. “What time is it?”

  “Just after one.”

  “Damn.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take you back to my place soon. I just want to make sure you’re alright to get up and walk.”

  He touched her face now, and her attention was captured by a flash of dark red in her peripheral vision. She glanced down at Jax’s other hand and gasped: it was twice its normal size, puffy and purple. She tugged his hand off her face now, and stared at it too. The skin was scraped clean off the knuckles, and his palm was streaked with blood.

  “My God, Jax.” She sat up and held his hand in both of hers. “Are you OK?”

  “Yeah.” He gave her that trademark Jax Hamill grin: slow, sexy, and one hundred percent devil-may-care. “Nothing new for me. They’re used to it, and they’ve been way worse, trust me.”

  She was quiet as she stared down at his damaged hands, and he gazed at her. She looked thoughtful, maybe even troubled.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

  “I’m just – I’m remembering something.”

  “What?”

  She glanced up at him. “How you looked when Kane cut me. The – the look in your eyes.”

  He was silent. He could only imagine what he must have looked like.

  “Did I scare you?” he said in a small voice, afraid to hear the answer.

  She really thought about that, and he held his breath. If she was frightened of him, it was over between them, he knew. He wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of it, and he wasn’t about to force Sarah to be around him if that was how she felt. But God, he hoped she was able to look past what he’d done right in front of her. He’d beaten three men damn near to death, and truthfully, he’d have loved to have had a few swings at Kane.

  I’d have fucking knocked his head clean off his shoulders, I swear.

  “No,” she said at last. “I wasn’t scared. But…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “But I saw a side of you that I’ve never seen before.” Her eyes held his, not letting him off the hook. “I mean, I knew it had to be there… you said you had a tough childhood, and that does something to people.” She looked down at his naked chest. “I can see the scars on your body, and all these tattoos… I’m no expert, but some look like prison ink to me. And those punches tonight weren’t anything like the first you’ve ever thrown.”

  Jax swallowed hard. She was laying it all out now, and he had a choice to make. There was no judgment on her face, though, and no disgust. She just looked like a woman who had a lot on her mind, and who was offering him a chance to hold up his half of a long-overdue conversation.

  “In some ways, what I saw of you tonight seemed like a completely different man – but deep down, I know that’s not right. What I saw? That’s you, too, and it always has been. That ferocity, and domination, and rage.” She was amazingly gentle, even kind. “I’m not afraid of it, Jax, but I do want to know where it comes from, and what you’ve done with it before, and the places it’s led you in your life.”

  The silence stretched out between them. Jax was frozen solid, scared out of his fucking mind. He wanted to tell her – and God knows, after tonight, he had to tell her – but the thought of her reaction was overwhelming. Was he about to lose her?

  Fuck. I hope not.

  “It’s taken me lots of bad places in my life,” Jax said at last. “But the worst one was when it landed me in jail.”

  She waited, still holding his hand, her face open and trusting. That was when Jax knew that he had to fully own his life; after all, she had every right to know who the hell she was with. The fact that it had all happened so long ago didn’t mean that it had never happened.

  Truth time, man.

  He took a deep breath. “I went to jail because I killed a man.”

  Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. There it is… now she’s going to up and run screaming.

  Sarah studied him. “Why did you?”

  Jax blinked at her simple acceptance, at the softness of the question. “Because he killed my mother.”

  “Oh, God, Jax. I’m sorry.” She curled up against his side again, and his arms went around her right away, pulling her closer. “Tell me.”

  He sighed. “Mom raised me and my sister alone. Dad took off when I was ten and Megan was seven, and to be honest with you, we were all pretty fucking relieved. The man was abusive as hell, and even though we were dirt-poor after he left, we could finally go to bed at night without bruises and broken limbs.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Mom did her best, but a waitress’ salary isn’t much.” He looked at Sarah. “Your Mom reminds me of my own in lots of ways, you know. Both abandoned, both raising kids on their own, both getting up every single fucking day and just getting it done. No weeping and wailing and giving
up…not much happiness, I figure, but no defeat.”

  “Yeah.” Sarah stroked his forearm. “Tough women.”

  “Damn right. Anyway, I got in to trouble, and that was mostly my own fault. I made lots of bad choices, and let me tell you, doll, if you want to find trouble in Detroit, it’s damn easy to do. I ran with a gang and I was a petty criminal and a street fighter, and I landed in juvie a few times. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to stay in school and actually learn a few things, but mostly, I treated the streets as my place of education.” He started to stroke her hair, over and over, finding it soothing. “I was a selfish little prick, and I basically left Mom and Megan on their own to cope as best they could. Mom had boyfriends over the years, and most of ‘em were fucking losers – until Len Murdoch came along. Rich, classy… and married.”

  Sarah sighed. “Yeah.”

  “So, Megan and I told her to get out of the relationship, but she wouldn’t. Murdoch was financially generous to her, and when we pointed out that Mom was, in effect, a hooker, she said we needed the money.”

  “It all went along fine, until Mom got the brilliant idea to blackmail her married boyfriend. She had a friend of hers from the restaurant where she worked take pictures of her and Murdoch together – like, together in bed – and then she presented them to him. Said she wanted some absurd amount of money to stay quiet.”

  Jax’s whole body tensed up now, and Sarah closed her eyes, knowing that it was bad.

  “Murdoch lost it. He fucking flipped out, totally. They were in the park late at night, and he dragged her in to some bushes and strangled her. It was late autumn, so he was wearing gloves, and he took the pictures with him, of course.”

  “Was there a trial?”

  “Nope. Not enough evidence.”

  Sarah paused. “The friend from the restaurant would have had copies of the pictures, right? Wouldn’t they be able to testify to the blackmail plan? Isn’t that motive?”

  “Sure. Except for the fact that this woman claimed that none of that ever happened.”

  “Len Murdoch got to her.” Sarah touched his chest. “Paid her off. Bought her silence.”

  “Sure did. She quit her waitressing job, bought a house in Miami, moved away, never to be heard from again. That was the end of the case, since no witness was found, and there was no strong suspect.”