“Were you baking?” He enters my office with a confused expression.
I ignore his question and settle behind my desk, offering him the chair facing me.
“You sure got a lot of Christmas decorations.” Jax huffs out a nervous laugh. “Looks like Cheryl went all out.”
I keep my poker face intact. I’ve been told over the years that I can look fuckin’ scary when I want to, and this is one of those times. What Jax did went against every street code, and although I am pissed as shit at him, he’s still like a brother to me, and I’m not gonna hand him over into Graham’s slimy hands.
“I was surprised you wanted to meet here instead of Wicked. I’m also surprised you’re not at Wicked.”
I steeple my fingers, and Jax shifts in his seat. Then I draw in a long, deep breath. “I’ve been surprised by a few things over the last few hours too.”
Jax keeps eye contact with me as we stare each other down. First one to speak is the loser. Another old rule.
“You gonna tell me what you want?” Jax asks and shifts again.
“What I want? Interesting question.” I inhale and exhale. “I guess what I want is a lifelong friend who’s loyal.”
“I’m loyal.” A bead of sweat pops out on the big man’s forehead.
“Who says I’m taking about you?”
“I just figured since I’m here, that a . . .” he stammers.
“Are you loyal?”
Now I got the fucker twitching. “Yeah, of course.”
“You gonna compound this shit by lying?”
“Lying? I’m not?—”
“Portia’s waiting for me to watchElfwith her, so I’ll cut to the chase.” I lean forward, resting my arms on my desk. “You sold us out to that fucker Pierce.”
“No, no,” Jax yells.
“Save it. I know you were feeding him information about Wicked, along with our lease agreement and a whole bunch of other shit about our past.” I cock my head. “But what I don’t get is why, after all these years. I mean, you and me met in juvie. We were what, fourteen, fifteen years old?”
“Fifteen,” Jax confirms.
“We ran the streets together since we were kids. Even before I hooked up with Samson.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“You lost me.”
“It was always you and me, then Frank took on Samson, and all of a sudden it was you and Samson who Frank came to. It was you and Samson who took over the Oasis. He gave me shit.”
“Sounds more like you’re pissed at Frank.”
“Then you guys got tight, opened up the club in Manhattan, and I was left with nothing.”
“You always said you didn’t wanna deal with all the spreadsheets and headaches of running a club. That you were happy staying in the background running security and busting heads.”
“Then you moved out here, and you still treated me like your lackey.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that,” I admit.
Jax’s eyes bug out at my admission.
