by Ashley Lane
Her shoulders slump. “When he moved his operations from our farm to a warehouse out of state, we thought we’d be safe. But he…” Oakley stands and folds her clothes as she talks as though the action will lessen the impact of her words. “He made a deal with some cartel. He’d already been trafficking guns for years but they brought something new to the table—drugs. Dad thought it’d bring in more money. It did, but it wasn’t enough. He went deeper and deeper into the criminal underworld obsessed with making as much money as he could. He started distributing drugs through the church but instead of giving his supplier their fair share, Dad started skimming off the top. A little at first and more as it went unnoticed. By the time the FBI got involved, half the suppliers men were dead, and for three years we thought he’d died too.”
She sighs. “I wasn’t even sad. I didn’t miss him because there was nothing left of him to miss. Anyway, he showed up one night, drunk and ranting about his money, accusing Mom of stealing it. She swore she didn’t, and obviously I had no idea what he was talking about but he wasn’t hearing it. He was out of his mind, demanding his money… millions that he was convinced my mom had somehow stolen and hidden from him. When mom wouldn’t tell him where it was, he had two of his men ra—rape her in front of me. My dad watched and didn’t bat an eye.”
A heavy tremor rocks my body and I step toward Jax, seeking his strength, his silent calm. I’m seconds away from fucking exploding and I know I need to get a handle on it before I scare the fuck out of Oakley.
“Angel, are you okay?” Oakley whispers, but Jax tells her to continue.
“When they couldn’t get anything out of my mom, they turned their attention to me. One of the men—Renshaw, he tied me to a chair, my ankles and wrists were bound with rope. I was terrified and just froze, I couldn’t fight… couldn’t even scream. They forced my mom to watch while he—he—” She stops, unable to speak through her sobs and the already loose hold I had on my anger snaps. With a menacing roar, I swing my fist into the fall, the sheetrock giving way from the force. The thought of anyone touching her, violating her… silencing her voice and taking by force. My brain threatens to shut down. I’ve experienced each of those things, and the possibility that she’s endured them too, is almost too much to handle. Oakley falls to her knees. Jax and I rush to her, falling to the floor and pulling her between us.
“I think that’s enough,” I say.
“No,” she cries. She clears her throat. “No. I need to do this, to tell someone. To tell you both. Please.”
Fucking hell. I don’t know how much more I can take. One glance at Jax shows his grip also giving way.
“He pulled out a thin lead pipe, but on the end of it, he’d welded a bunch of metal wires that he’d twisted into an image… it was of a tree—or more specifically, the roots. The logo of my dad’s church has a tree of life. He heated the wire with a blowtorch and while he branded me, my dad let me know that it was a reminder of where I came from…to remember my true roots.”
There are no tears now, she merely stares blankly at the wall. Then while I was still tied to the chair, my dad held a gun to my mom’s head. He told me if I’d just been on his side instead of hers—If I hadn’t helped her hide the money, everything would have been okay. Then he told me if I didn’t tell him where she’d hidden the money, he was going to kill her.” She laughs, but it’s empty and she looks at us before she shakes her head. “There was no money.”
By the time Oakley finishes her story, we find out that dear ole’ dad himself set the house on fire leaving Oakley there tied to a chair. But not before he shot her mother in front of her. It was by pure luck that Oakley survived the fire, and more so her second and third-degree burns, and the scars that remain from skin grafts and plastic surgery. She spent months in a private burn rehab facility as she recovered from countless skin grafts and three plastic surgeries to repair the worst of the burns. Even though her dad hadn’t been seen or heard from since the incident, she was discharged into witness protection for her safety.
“Wait, you’re in witness protection?”
She bites her lip, then looks up at us. “I ah... I told them I wanted out when I was twenty—”
I cut her off. “Oakley! Why would you do that?”
“It’s no way to live...” she says. “I was tired of being followed around and watched every minute of every day. Guess it doesn’t matter now anyway.”
“So all these years, there’s been no trace of your dad and all of a sudden you’re getting phone calls from his second in command?” Jax asks. “Why now?”
Oakley shrugs before her shoulders drop in defeat. “I have no idea. Maybe my dad wants to come out of hiding, maybe he’s been watching me this entire time just waiting for me to be happy so he can rip it all away.” She lifts her head and tired eyes meet ours. “Look, I’m so thankful for all you’ve done for me, I really am. But my contact at WITSEC said I had to leave if I was ever afraid for my life. When I contact him, he’ll come get me and I’ll be safe.”
“No fucking way,” I say. “You’re not leaving.”
She stands and pushes her sleeves up her forearms like she’s preparing for a fight. “You can’t stop me.” she challenges, and I smirk. Jax stands and kisses her forehead before looking down at me. “Let’s talk outside.”
I get to my feet, kiss Oakley’s cheek, then follow Maddox out the door.
When it closes behind me, I know damn well Oakley’s in there repacking her goddamn suitcase. “We’re not letting her go,” I state, almost as a challenge.
“Of course not,” Jax says, like I’m an idiot. “Do you trust me?”
I give him a look. Really?
“Follow my lead.”
“Got it.”
CHAPTER 21
JAX
“Ready to go?” I ask Oakley.
The look of pure sorrow on her face kills me and makes me feel like the biggest fucking dick on the face of the earth. But if this is the only way I can get her to agree to get into the car with us, so be it.
Shelly gives her one last hug and swipes the tears from her eyes. “I really wish you’d reconsider, Oak,” she says. “I’m gonna miss you.” She smooths her hand down Oakley’s hair, says a quick goodbye, then rushes to her bedroom.
Oakley looks up at Maddox, and her eyes are begging. For what? I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for him to fight for her. Make her stay. Don’t worry, little one, we’re not letting you go.
I place a hand in the small of her back and lead her down the front steps to my truck. I throw her suitcase onto the tail bed while Maddox climbs into the front passenger seat, Oakley climbs in behind him.
The ride through town is silent. My rear-view mirror gives me a front row seat to Oakley’s heartache. Sorrow and agony weep from her features as she stares, unseeing, at the buildings and streets passing her by. As much as it hurts to witness her misery, her mental absence works to our advantage. Even still, the pain in my heart matches her own as it cries out for me to hold her, fix her, love her.
It’s not until we’re pulling into the parking lot outside my apartment building that she seems to come out of her stupor. “What...? What are we doing here, Jax?” she questions.
Maddox laughs at her genuine confusion as he climbs out of the truck and turns to open her door.
I cut the engine and turn in my seat, staring at Oakley. “Did you actually think we’d let you leave? That we’d put you on a train or a bus and send you away?”
“Well... yeah.”
I shake my head. “That’s not going to work for us, sweetheart,”
Maddox leans into the truck and cups the side of her face. “Baby, I know you haven’t quite gotten this yet, but you belong to us, and you’re not going anywhere.”
Oakley’s eyes widen and she sits up in her seat. Her finger waves between us. “Oh my God, you set me up.” Eyes narrowed, she glares at us, “You were never going to let me go.”
We shake our head and give her some ti
me to come to terms with her new normal. While Maddox and I have been together for years, we understand that this is all new to Oakley. It’s going to take time for her to realize she’s not in this alone anymore.
Her eyes fill with tears and she bites on her bottom lip. “You should have let me go.” she whispers before dropping her head into her hands, hiding her face from us. “I’m scared,” she admits. “What if he finds me and one of you gets hurt? I’ll never forgive myself.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Maddox promises her with certainty.
“You don’t know that,” she argues.
“He knows,” I counter.
Maddox leans over Oakley to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Now come on, let’s get inside, we need to call Shelly, then we need to talk.”
“We?” she asks hesitantly.
I nod. “We. As in you, me, and Maddox.”
She glances between us nervously before climbing out of my truck. Over her shoulder, Maddox and I share a knowing glance. We’ve known where this was going for some time. Now it’s time we let Oakley know too.
***
OAKLEY
Oh my God. This cannot be happening. They were supposed to take me somewhere in town, drop me off so that I could call Jones, and find out where I needed to go next. Jones, a U.S. Marshall and my contact in WITSEC. Now they’ve brought me back to their home when Ren could already be following me and now know who they are. They’ve literally just painted targets on their backs. How did this happen? How could they put their lives on the line for mine? They barely know me, but with the way they’re talking, I’m not sure that they know that. As much as it’s going to hurt, I have to convince them to let me go.
Once we get inside, Angel excuses himself, continuing in the direction of the bedroom as he pulls his phone from his pocket. While he’s gone, I decide to start on Jax, hoping if I can get one of them to see reason. Surely the other will quickly follow.
“Jax…” I start, but with one glance of those deep green eyes, my mouth snaps shut and the words die on my lips.
He comes to me, his strides full of purpose and once he reaches me, presses his body against mine, moving us both back until my rear is flush against the wall. Caged inside his arms, he brings his forehead to mine and holds it there as we breathe each other in. “Don’t,” he finally whispers. “You can try all you want to push us away, but you should know, sweetheart, it’s only going to make us chase you harder.”
God.
God.
These men.
“Do you really think Angel will be able to help?”
He nods, his nose sliding against the length of mine. “Yeah, baby. I do. Not only does he have his MC brothers, but his Prez—Priest, knows a lot of people. You’ll be safe with us, I can promise you that.”
Angel walks back into the room and Jax lifts his head. “How’d it go?” he asks as he pulls away from me. Angel walks up, his fingers reaching out and playing along Jax’s before taking Jax’s place at my front. “Bullet is doing his best to trace the number that called and sent the texts to Oakley’s phone.” he answers before kissing me long and slow. When he pulls away, he glances back to Jax. “I’ll know as soon as they find something.”
“You ready to talk?” Jax asks.
The answer to that would be a resounding fuck no. Instead of saying that, I nod as I nervously chew on my bottom lip. Angel takes my hand and tugs me toward the living room where we sit on the sofa.
Jax drapes his arm over my shoulder where his fingers play lazily over the fabric of my shirt. Angel’s hand takes a different route, instead, cupping my thigh.
“What’s happening here…?” My stomach is so clenched in nerves I worry for a moment I might throw up.
Angel gives my thigh a gentle but firm squeeze. “Sweetheart, you know what’s happening. You just aren’t ready to admit it.”
I swallow hard, trying to get past the lump in my throat, but I fail miserably. My breath hitches when Jax’s fingers move from my shoulder to my neck where he puts a steady pressure against my muscles there. “Breathe, little one.”
My breath escapes me in a rush and for a beat I feel lightheaded. “I don’t—I can’t… I thought we were just having fun,” I admit. “This was supposed to be a fling,” I say the words so fast I’m not sure they make sense.
“No,” Maddox says, sounding slightly offended. “This has never been a fling for us, Oakley. Not since day one.”
I give him an apologetic look and he softens.
“It’s okay,” Jax says. “You’re not a mind reader. And I know if you’ve been around Tasha for longer than thirty seconds, you’ve probably heard about me and Madd and our past… hookups.” He cringes on the last word, but he shouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed about anything they’ve done together. I would never judge them for that.
Cheeks flushed, I can only nod. “I—I didn’t ask. And I’m not judging…” Really not judging. More like wanting. “Oh god.” I slap my palm to my forehead and spit it out. “Okay, yeah, I heard the girls talking about your... hookups. And Tasha told me you guys are into threesomes and that maybe she’s seen—” I cringe and lower my voice. “She said she watched you on the dancefloor once with a woman between you.”
Angel smirks. “Told ya’ they all talk about us,” he says to Jax who just shakes his head and sighs. “It’s in the past,” Angel assures. “It’s been years since we shared anyone.”
Jax nods in agreement. “Yes, Maddox and I love each other, but we’ve also both always been very appreciative of a woman’s soft curves. And in the beginning, it was fun. But that’s all it’s always been, Oakley. Fun.”
I nod because even though I’m not bisexual, I get what they’re saying one hundred percent.
“But Oakley—it’s never been about just having fun, not with you,” Angel vows.
“When you found us, we were broken. And honestly, if it weren’t for you, I’m not sure if we’d be sitting here today,” Jax says as he pushes my hair behind my ear and cups his hand along my jaw. “You brought him back to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You brought him back and since then you’ve done nothing but hold us together.”
“You’re the glue, Oakley. You’ve seeped into the cracks where the pieces of Jax and I meet, and you’ve burrowed deep. Even if we wanted it, there’s no getting you out now,” Angel ads. “This is where you were always meant to be.”
Tears course freely down my face as my heart struggles to accept what they’re saying. “I don’t know how to do this…” I admit. “I’ve never been in a relationship before.” I shake my head, wondering how this could possibly work. Relationships are hard enough between two people, but three?
“It’s okay.” Jax promises and nods at Angel over my shoulder. “Let us show you.”
***
ANGEL
Following Jax’s unspoken command, I lean forward and run my lips along the length of Oakley’s neck. She shivers but leans into my touch and I growl in approval. My lips meet the slightly thicker skin of her scars and I press an extra gentle kiss there before I pull away.
“Do they ever hurt?” I ask. “I did some research and found out that scar tissue can still be painful even years after the incident.”
Tears well in Oakley’s eyes. Well fuck. Probably not the best time to bring it up, dickhead.
“You did research… for me?” she questions.
I swallow hard and nod, fucking terrified I just said the wrong thing. She sniffles, but she’s smiling, so I take that as a good sign. “You’re so sweet,” she cries. “No one has ever cared enough to do anything like that before.”
I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. “You may not believe it, but you’re beautiful, Oakley. And I’m not talking about just the outside. Your scars make you unique and there is beauty even in them, but it’s the inside that makes you shine.”
Jax nods in agreement. “And we plan on spending the rest of our days proving it to you.”
Silently, Oa
kley closes her eyes and begins to unbutton her long sleeve shirt. Jax and I share a glance, and he nods—his unspoken words telling me to let her continue.
When her shirt is removed, Oakley is left sitting between us in a white cotton bra. Her entire left side is scarred, but these scars are deeper and thicker than the ones that cover her face, and there are no branches extending from them, so these must be from the actual fire and not Ren’s torture.
Oakley extends her arm, her hand trembles slightly. “Other than doctors, no one has ever seen me like this.” She sighs. “It’s bad enough people have to see my face—”
Jax follows the path of scars down her arm. “Stop,” he says. “If anyone can’t see the beauty in your face, they’re fucking blind. They’re also the unluckiest sons-of-bitches because they’ll never get to experience true beauty. And that’s a tragedy, sweetheart.”
Before she can deny his truth, Jax and I move closer, hugging Oakley between us. I flatten my palm over her chest, my pinkie finger sneaking underneath the strap of her simple white bra. I press a kiss to her hair and whisper, “Can I kiss you?”
Her needy whimper is all the confirmation I need, and if that wasn’t enough, Oakley crawling onto my lap and straddling my thighs seals the fucking deal in a heartbeat.
Body pressed against mine, she curls her fingers through the back of my hair and drops her lips to mine. There’s a stark difference between Jax’s lips and Oakley’s. Oakley’s are plump and soft, her movements gentle. Almost feather-like touches as her tongue seeks mine and her soft, breathy whimpers are swallowed up by my own mouth.
