way before he rolls violently, trying to reverse our positions.
“Get the fuck off me,” he shouts.
The first punch lands on his jaw and I relish the new wave of pain in his eyes.
“The fuck is wrong with you!” he snarls, throwing his fists. He grazes the side of my jaw and kicks out in an attempt to free himself.
“Thought no one would see that, didn’t you? Guess what motherfucker—I did.”
Malcolm smiles, blood oozes from his nose and coats his teeth. “It was worth it to watch her burn.”
His words set fire to my monster within—I don’t hold him back from the flames. Instead, I set him free, letting him climb through my body to Malcolm’s, enveloping him until I’m vibrating from the rage within.
In an instant, my fingers release the hold on his hair and before I can blink, they’re wrapped around his throat. The sounds of the night are muted, only the roaring of blood pumping through my veins can be heard. I’m lost—transfixed on the way my knuckles have turned white, gripping his windpipe between my thumb and finger.
Red seeps into my vision and I focus on it. Malcolm’s hands scratch and claw at me, trying uselessly to pull my hand away from where I’m bleeding the life from his eyes.
Suddenly, in one swift movement, I’m yanked off Malcolm and thrown to the ground. Fists clenched, ready to fight, I leap to my feet only to find Rhys standing in front of me, pale and wide eyed as fuck.
Malcolm is rolling on the ground, clutching his throat and trying to catch his breath. When I lunge for him again, a strong, steady hand touches my arm. “Boss… this—this isn’t the time…” He pauses and glances around at a few hundred witnesses. “Or the place,” he adds.
Malcolm finally gets his bearings and stares me down as though I’m intimidated by him. The stupid fuck. I stare back, taunting him. “You can run, but you can’t hide. Your time for confession is coming.”
Malcolm’s eyes go wide because he fucking knows what that means. He’s fucked. When he makes a break for the exit, Rhys calls security to follow him out.
“Let me handle everything here…” he trails off before glancing over my shoulder. “I think there’s somewhere you need to be.”
Oakley. Seeing my panic, Rhys pats my shoulder.
“He took her upstairs.”
I push through the crowd, relieved to see that the party is back in full swing. Making my way up the stairs, my mind is on Oakley, hoping like hell she wasn’t injured or burned by the alcohol. When I reach the office, I unlock the door then throw it open.
My feet freeze in place at the scene before me. Jax is sitting on the large leather sofa with Oakley curled up impossibly small in his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Her head is nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair and whispers against her ear. Minutes pass as I stand and watch them. Oakley—so fragile, yet so beautiful—shaking and crying. And Jax—my strong, steady Jax—calming her. Like he does for me, Jax has her swathed in a blanket of protection only he can offer.
Over Oakley’s head, Jax meets my stare. A thousand words are exchanged between us in that moment, and yet not a sound is made. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but somehow this beautiful, scarred woman has wormed her way under our skin.
In the past when we’ve shared women, it was always a heat of the moment decision. We both appreciate the soft, sweet curves of a woman’s body. There has never been any jealousy because the woman in question was never a threat. She was a means to an end. A moment of ecstasy we couldn’t deny. We may have shared our bodies with women, but we never shared our hearts.
Standing here, watching Jax hold Oakley the same way he holds me, I expect the onslaught of jealousy to overtake me. But all I can manage to feel is relief that she’s okay. Relief that he’s got her, because I know with every ounce of my being that Jax has the strength to save us both.
Jax eyes the seat next to him, a silent command for me to sit down. When I’m settled in the seat, Oakley breaks free from Jax’s strong hold and throws herself against my chest. My eyes close as her body molds against me. Her soft curves fit beautifully against the hard