he replied. The pop of bacon grease hit the back of my hand, and I released him.
“How did you both work through the Jules situation?” I asked timidly. I knew her betrayal and Huxley’s erratic fists were still a sore spot for them all.
Jacob tensed when I asked and focused on the food before speaking. “It took a while before I could talk. Maverick rushed me to a neighboring province to use their healing pod. My jaw and ribs were broken. I don’t even want to think about how much it cost him.” Jacob absentmindedly rubbed his jaw. “It’s hard to think of Huxley as the cause of that.”
“During my two weeks in the pod, Huxley went on a bender. He picked fights with the other miners, drank himself stupid, and a few other things he probably wouldn’t want me sharing with you.”
I imagined Huxley’s self-destructive behavior going into overdrive, and the image was painful to think about. I also hated to think of Jacob’s wounds. Two weeks in a healing pod meant that he sustained very extensive injuries.
“Do you . . .” I trailed off, unsure if I should ask, or if I could handle the answer. “Do you know why Huxley reacted the way he did? It just seems so irrational and out of character for him. He’s always three steps ahead of the rest of us.”
Jacob tensed up and looked at me with devastated eyes. “I don’t think that’s my story to tell, Ash.” I nodded in understanding. I wanted to know all the things that tormented them but knew when not to push.
“Anyway,” Jacob began again with a frown, “when I finally came to, the guys begged me to find Huxley and bring him back to his senses. I wandered around Dormas until I found him in the mines, drunk off his ass.” Jacob let out a light chuckle while turning off the burner and placing bacon, eggs, and toast on a white porcelain plate.
“I knew Huxley was punishing himself. He’s self-destructive by nature, so I just did the first thing that came to my mind. I punched him. Hard. It hurt me more than it hurt him probably. Poor guy was so drunk he couldn’t speak. I knew we couldn’t move past this unless I did that. We threw punches while the rest of the guys waited outside. We both ended up leaving the mines bloodied but laughing, and we haven’t brought it up since.”
“Men are so strange.” I sighed while popping a bite of eggs into my mouth.
“No,” Jacob began. He thrust out a thumb and wiped food from the corner of my lips. “Huxley is strange. I was more than happy to talk about my feelings and hold hands, or whatever it is normal people do, but that’s not what Huxley needed . He needed to feel like things were even between us. He needed someone to kick his ass. Even though punching him damn near broke my hand, I gave that to him because our friendship meant more to me than my anger.”
I watched Jacob with a slightly broader sense of understanding. Their group was his whole life. They meant more to him than his pain, his grief, and his anger.
“Did you ever allow yourself to feel angry, Jacob?” I asked. Jacob seemed to push down all his emotions, an impulse I could relate to lately.
“Of course. But I was more motivated by the fear of losing the only family I’ve ever known,” Jacob said while pushing away a completely cleared plate. He ate his breakfast fast and was happily leaning back in his chair despite the dark mood of our conversation.
“Everyone called her Momma Black—Cy’s Mom. She was just this extremely nurturing and selfless woman. Momma Black found me when I was four years old at the Train station. I—I don’t remember much before that,” Jacob said while looking at his hands. “I have these vague memories of my birth mom sneaking me onto a train to Dormas. I think she hoped I’d have better luck here than in the Zone. Momma Black took me in. Raised me like her own. Loved me until her death.”
I wished in that moment, that I could have met Momma Black. I desperately wanted to know the woman that shaped such strong and caring men.
“Cy, Maverick, Hux, Patrick, Kemper, and even Jules are the only family I’ve ever known. I’d do anything to preserve that,” Jacob said. I noticed his eyes shimmering with emotion, and