Bounty: Fury Riders MC
Page 37
“So this is your new girl, huh? Cute. You always had good taste.” The way his watery eyes run up and down my body makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. I pull my coat tighter around myself, making him laugh.
“Man, seriously. Listen. This isn’t the time or place. If you wanna talk, meet me out at the house. I’ll be happy to talk about anything you want. We can go right now.”
He stares hard at Jax. “You act like you don’t know what I want to talk to you about. That’s hilarious.”
Jax sighs deeply. “Fine. We’ll talk about her. Just not here.”
“No, I think here is the perfect place, and this is the perfect time.” He turns back toward me. “I want her to hear this.”
“This is my property,” I point out, trying to sound stronger than I feel. “I think it might be best for you to leave.” In my head, all I see is visions of a brawl on my front lawn.
“Fair enough. But don’t you wanna know about your boy here? Don’t you wanna know what he’s really capable of doing?”
“Adam, stop.” Jax’s voice is so low, I can hardly hear him. I barely make out the other man’s name.
“Don’t tell me to stop. Don’t you ever tell me what to do.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect.”
“Bullshit! Since when do you care about respect or disrespect?” Adam laughs bitterly, a little too loudly. “If you gave a shit about respect you wouldn’t show your face in this town ever again. You made a deal, which you’re breaking right now.”
“I know how you feel, man. But she needed me.” Jax motions toward me. I’m stunned. Has he been banished or something? Is that why people are so nasty toward him? How much did he risk by coming to me last night?
Another bitter laugh. “I’m sure she did, buddy. Lots of women have needed you, haven’t they? Especially since Marissa.”
“Don’t talk that way in front of her.” Jax nods his head in my direction.
“Don’t tell me how to talk! You wanna settle this right now?” Adam’s aching for a fight.
I grip the porch railing so hard in my hands that I can feel the splinters in the wood.
“Please, don’t. Stop this!” I might as well be shouting into the wind, they’re paying so little attention to me.
Adam tries to work his hooded sweatshirt over his head, but he’s off-balance, staggering. His shirt, and the tee beneath it, ride up on his abdomen. I can see ink on his torso…then I realize he has the same angel in flames I’ve seen on Jax’s torso.
He’s one of them! I watch even more closely. There’s so much animosity here. What happened between Jax and the club to cause this?
A glimmer of hope flickers in my brain. If Jax is on the outs with the club, that would mean he’d have nothing to do with them. Maybe he’s not involved with them anymore. Maybe he did something to alienate himself. Better yet, maybe he left the club of his own accord. Oh, I can hope, can’t I?
“Adam, stop this. I don’t want to fight you.” Jax is relaxed, hands at his sides. I know he could easily tear this stumbling, flabby man apart. He probably knows it, too.
Adam finally gives up trying to remove the sweatshirt. He’s out of breath. “Why do you keep showing your face around here? Why do you keep starting shit?”
“I told you before. I wasn’t trying to start anything.”
“Oh, right, right. This girl needed you. Does she know who she slept with last night?”
I pull my coat around me again. I don’t like his intimate tone, the way he talks like he knows me. I especially don’t like the implication that Jax is a monster. I’ve already done enough second-guessing.
“I’m begging you, man. I don’t beg anybody, but I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”
Adam stares daggers at Jax. “You’re begging? Did she beg at the last minute, too? Did she ask you not to do it?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve never known.”
Adam scoffs, then turns his head to me. I feel sick. “You’re pretty good friends with this guy, huh?”
I shrug. “I guess so. We’re friends, yes.” I glance desperately at Jax.
“So you know everything about him, huh?”
I can tell from his tone of voice this isn’t going anywhere nice. “I know who he is. I know where he’s from. If that’s what you mean.” I’m becoming distinctly uncomfortable now.
“Did he tell you how he killed my sister?” My eyes widen, making him smirk. “Yeah. My sister. His wife.”
Chapter 24
“Adam, I’ve told you.” Jax’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife. But Adam’s not paying attention to Jax. He’s staring at me.
“Right, right. You didn’t kill her. Okay.”
“Your sister?” I look at Jax, desperate to make sense of this. Wishing he’d step in somehow and make it all go away.
Adam laughs. “Yeah. I’m the prodigal brother-in-law. Or, seeing as how he’s the guy who killed her, maybe he’s the prodigal one. Not sure. It’s been a long time since I read the story.” He’s swaying on his feet, I notice. Already a little tipsy and it’s not even noon.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I feel like a jackass for saying it, but it’s the only thing I can come up with. This situation isn’t exactly indicative of my everyday life.
He seems to appreciate the thought, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” He turns his head toward Jax. “A nice girl like this, a sweet girl. What the hell are you doing with her? Trying to ruin her life, too?”
“Adam.” Jax’s hands are in fists, hanging down by his sides. He’s beyond furious. I get the impression he’s only holding back for my sake. Or maybe he feels bad for this poor, drunk man.
“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” Adam turns back to me. “Isn’t it?”
“Isn’t what? He’s not ruining my life.”
“Oh, really? Do you know how long it took for word to get around that Jax Fairbanks’s bike was sitting out in front of your house? How do you think I found him here in the first place?”
I’m not sure what to say now. My eyes find Jax’s. He looks like a man who’s being proven right, but isn’t happy about it. Hadn’t he predicted this just minutes ago?
“People are talking?”
“You’re damn right they are. The Angels aren’t exactly loved around here. And they’re the only people in the area who ride motorcycles. A few people saw him riding through town last night. One of them saw him pull in here and run up the steps. Come on, guys.” He looks from me to Jax, then back to me again.
I square my shoulders. “I don’t give a shit what people say.”
Adam nods his head. “Very noble. Very brave.”
“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm. If that’s all you’ve come to say, you can leave now.”
“So you don’t care about your reputation. Fine.” He’s completely ignored me, continuing with his diatribe. “What about your life? What’s that mean to you?”
“Adam, stop this.” Jax moves a step closer to him.
“Do you know how she died? You never did answer me.”
“Yes. I know how your sister died. I read all about it. It was very sad.”
“Mmmhmm. A gunshot wound, right to the chest. Point-blank range. Cold. Deliberate. Whoever killed her had to be looking her right in the eye. And then they left her there in the woods. Eyes open, looking up at the sky. I wonder how long she lived, if she had a moment or two when she knew she was dying. But at least she got a chance to look at the clouds one more time. We used to spread picnic blankets on the ground and spend hours on our backs, looking at the clouds. You know, when we were kids.”
I nod my head, struggling not to cry for this broken man. He’s so tormented.
“Either way, she died. And her body was left right there on the ground, for anything to get at her. At least they found her before the animals started eating her.” His voice breaks a little. “She might as well have been a piece of garbage, or a toy a kid got
tired of and threw away. My sister. My fucking sister.” His voice breaks.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. He is.” Adam jerks a thumb in Jax’s direction.
“Adam, come on. Let’s at least go inside. We can talk about this.”
“I’m fine out here. Don’t start thinking about this nice girl’s reputation now. You’ve already fucked her life up enough, man. It’s too late.” He looks at me again. “Did he tell you they matched the bullet they found in my sister’s body?”
“What?” I’d only read they’d found no weapon. I glance at Jax.
“Oh, yeah. They didn’t find the actual gun, but they know the sort of weapon it came from. A Glock 19. Guess who carries a Glock 19? Or at least he used to, before he killed my sister with it.”
I look at Jax again, my eyes searching his. This can’t be true. The look on his face tells me it is.
“Did I forget to tell you the best part?”
“Best part?”
“Okay, bad choice of words, maybe. My sister didn’t die in just any woods. She died in the woods behind Jax’s house.”
All the air leaves my lungs in one big whooshing noise, as though I’ve been punched in the stomach. All I can do is stare at Jax. The last bit of the story has finally been revealed, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s been taken apart by this sad, drunk man on my lawn.
“No. You didn’t know that, did you? I’m not surprised.” He turns to Jax. “I hope you haven’t done too much damage to this poor girl already. I’m sure she doesn’t deserve it. Just like Marissa didn’t.”
“Adam, you need to leave. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Jax places his hand on Adam’s arm, only to have the arm yanked away as though his touch burned.
“Don’t ever touch me again. Not if you wanna live another day.” The tension could be cut with a knife. They stand there, staring at each other.
“Is this true, Jax? Is it all true?”
He breaks the staring contest he’s having with Adam, looking over at me. He won’t say a word.
“Please. Jax. Please, I know it’s not true. Or if what he’s saying is true there’s a good explanation. Why don’t you just tell him the whole story? I believe in you.”
“Oh, this has to be a joke!” Adam laughs at me. “You’re worse than I thought. Like one of those women who writes to convicts because you feel sorry for them. Will you have a jailhouse wedding with him, too? Once he’s thrown inside a cell for everything he’s done?”
I ignore him. “Jax, all you have to do is tell the truth. I don’t see why you won’t explain all of this.”
“I shouldn’t have to.” Stubborn, pigheaded brat.
“Not for me. For yourself. For him.” I nod my head in Adam’s direction. “Give him a little peace, at least.”
“I shouldn’t have to do that either. I’ve told him I had nothing to do with it, same as I told you. That’s not good enough for him. I’m starting to wonder if it’s not good enough for you either.”
“Don’t say that. Stop assuming I think the worst of you.”
“Oh, forget this shit.” Adam throws his hands into the air. “I didn’t come here to watch some bullshit domestic drama.” He turns toward his bike, climbing on. Before he pulls away, he looks at me once more.
“What did you come here for, then, man? To make things even worse?” Jax follows Adam to the bike, trying to confront him.
“Jax, don’t. Please. Let him go.” I’m desperate for him to leave now. I’ve heard enough.
“I hope you get your head screwed on straight. Before it’s too late.” Adam pulls away, revving his engine before speeding out of sight.
It’s just Jax and me again. The silence between us is deafening. I’m at a loss, torn between embarrassment for him and confusion.
“Jax.” I walk toward him, starting down the short flight of stairs leading to the lawn.
“Don’t. Just don’t.” He stalks away toward his bike without another word. I can only watch helplessly as he backs out of the driveway, then pulls down the street.
Now I’m alone. Again. I look around, wondering how many pairs of eyes are watching from behind closed doors and pulled curtains. They sure got an eyeful out here, didn’t they?
I also remember Tommy. For a minute there I’d forgotten all about him. I guess I can thank Adam for that much. I wonder if he’s here somewhere. Am I becoming completely paranoid?
No matter what the answer, I turn to head back into the house. Only after the door is locked behind me do I give myself the luxury of trying to think things over.
It’s useless, however. I can’t make sense of the jumbled mess in my head. All I know is I’m terrified—only now it’s not Tommy I’m afraid of.
It’s the idea of losing Jax forever.
Chapter 25
I sit down in front of my open laptop again, doing another search. This time, I’m looking for any available information on Marissa Fairbanks. Who was she? What sort of things was she into? Was she wrapped up in the club, or just an outsider?
I remember the tattoo I saw on Adam’s chest, just like the one on Jax’s. He’s a member of the club, too—or at the very least, he was at one time. Odds are she had something to do with the club, too, outside of being married to Jax. Maybe it ran in the family. Maybe her father was a member, or an uncle. Or maybe she got involved with the guys in the club after her brother joined.
Maybe she was never involved at all. Just an innocent party. Like me.
I can’t think about that now.
There’s not much on Marissa, or her murder. I was sure there would be a million articles about it, especially seeing as how the town hates the club. From what I’d already read, one of the guys could sneeze and it would make the news. I was certain I’d find all sorts of salacious details on the murder of the wife of a club member—a prominent one, if what Adam said was true.
Marissa is a mystery, it seems. I think about the way she decorated the house in which Jax still lives. She was a simple, sweet person, I think. Not fancy. Homey, cozy. She wanted to create a refuge for her man. I can understand the impulse, having had it myself. Why else would I have been driven to bake cookies for Jax when I hardly knew him?
She didn’t deserve to die the way she did, alone in the woods, left there to rot, going by the way Adam had described. I remember the pain in his voice when he talked about her. Now that I’ve met him, I get the idea he only let himself go after she died. He’s drinking himself into an early grave.
I understand what pain like that can do to a person. He’s desperate for an answer to how his sister’s life ended. He wants to pin the crime on any convenient person. Jax is just the most convenient.
It doesn’t help the bullet matched the gun he carried. I can understand why Adam would jump to conclusions when that’s the case.
I can’t believe it, though. I won’t believe it. Jax is innocent.
No, he’s not. He’s not innocent. Maybe of his wife’s murder. But not of other things.
I accept that. A person can make mistakes. They can also move on from them. They deserve the chance to.
I have to talk this out with somebody. If I hang around the house like this, I’ll go crazy. Just going over and over it in my head until I lose it. I’m still nervous about leaving the house, but I need to take the chance.
Minutes later, I’m at the coffee shop. It’s lunchtime as a handful of employees of the little shops up and down Main Street coming in for a cup of coffee or dessert on their break. I walk in, saying hi to everyone.
“I thought you were sick!” Amy’s behind the counter, busy as a bee. I notice her voice sounds higher-pitched than usual. Unnatural.
Shit. Everybody knows Jax was at my house, and I conveniently happened to call out sick. I’m sure people have been jumping to conclusions all morning. How much whispering has been going on right here in my own shop?
“I’m feeling bett
er, so I thought I’d come in for a while. You know how it is, you wake up feeling lousy, but once you get moving, it’s not so bad anymore.” I wash my hands and tie on an apron, diving in alongside my friend as though there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Anything to take my mind off the mess for a while. If Tommy’s out there somewhere, he wouldn’t dare try something now. Not while I’m surrounded by people. Would he?
Once things quiet down, I lean against the counter, facing Amy. “I have to ask you something.”
“Sure. What’s up?” I take her by the elbow, leading her to a quiet corner where I can still keep an eye on things in the shop.
“Do you know anything else about the murder of Jax’s wife? You know, something you heard people gossiping about, maybe?”
“What happened? Why are you asking me this?”
I wonder if I can trust her. I love her and she’s become my closest friend even though she started out as an employee. But she’s a talker, very social and bubbly. No, I need to trust my gut. At the end of the day, she’s also reliable.
“I know I can trust you. I have to tell you what happened earlier today.” I give her the brief rundown, explaining what went on with Adam. I’ve been glancing over at the customers every once in a while as I speak, and I can’t miss their eyes on me. I remember now what Adam said, about people talking when Jax’s motorcycle was seen outside my house. Are they whispering about me now?
“Wow, Chris. I can’t believe it.”
I nod my head. “I wanted to see if there was anything else online about Marissa’s murder, but there’s nothing. I mean not a single thing! Don’t you think that’s odd?”
“We’re still a small town. News flares up, but it dies down quickly.”
“Not gossip, though. That’s why I was wondering if you knew anything I wouldn’t otherwise be able to find.”
She looks uncomfortable. “You can tell me, Amy. It won’t hurt me. Not knowing the truth hurts more than anything else, I think.”
“I guess you’re right.” She looks around—there are only two people still drinking coffee and reading their papers. “Well, I’ll tell you this first: people try to make Marissa out to be a saint now that she’s dead. I don’t think that was the case, not really.”