Gauge shrugs, but his lips twists. “Just saying, Jax has his obsessions. He can be intense. You guys know that. I thought maybe you should know where it comes from.”
I nod, not because I agree, but because I don’t want to drag out this conversation while Knox is winding up for a fight. “He’s protective. We know.”
“Yeah,” Gauge says, but there’s a challenge there. He wants me to ask more, to dig for something ugly. I don’t give him the satisfaction. I’ve learned from years with my dad—never ask a question you don’t want the answer to.
He drops it, but only for a minute. “You guys ever worry about him? Like, actually worry?”
If I say no, he calls me a liar. If I say yes, I’m giving him what he wants. So, I just look up at the building. “We all have our shit, Gauge. I’m sure Jax will appreciate the care package.”
“Sure,” Gauge says, rolling his eyes. “Just… keep an eye on him, okay?”
The urge to punch his shit face is there, to knock him down a notch, or at least make him stop talking about Jaxon like he’s a loose grenade. But I don’t. I just push through the lobby and up the stairs, hearing Gauge’s footsteps a little behind mine.
“I know how Jax likes things, is all. Or I did. He ever tell you he used to sleepwalk?”
I stare at Gauge, at his face, the perfect copy of Jax right down to the smirk but with none of the kindness underneath. “He never mentioned it,” I say, though I remember too well the nights Jax would wake up screaming.
“Anyway,” Gauge says, “I got a tip about Coach.”
I freeze. So does Knox.
Gauge grins, slow and wide. “A guy I know in the police said they’re getting close. They found tire tracks up on the ridge, the old cabin road. Odd, isn’t it, how no one’s seen Coach, but all these little clues keep popping up?”
I shrug. “Cops always say shit like that to rattle people.”
“Yeah,” Knox agrees, but he’s chewing his cheek. “Waste of time.”
Gauge licks his teeth. “Maybe. Or maybe someone knows more than they’re saying.”
He lets that hang there. For a moment, I want to tell this fucker to go shove his “maybe” straight up his ass. But instead, I just muster a smile and unlock our apartment door.
I meet Jaxon’s eyes the second I step in. Jaxon’s standing at the kitchen island, not moving a muscle except for the flicker in his jaw and the way his thumb keeps circling the corner of Hope’s phone.
Knox and Gauge follow behind me and Jaxon quickly slides the phone into his pocket.
I raise an eyebrow at Jax and he shrugs as if nothing is bothering him. Liar.
Gauge stares him down, a little too pleased with himself. I hate that they look so alike, every line of their faces the same, the way they move just a hair too tight, like they’re both ready to throw the first punch if someone so much as blinks at them wrong.
“It was nice to see you, brother. Now, if you don’t mind,” Jaxon starts and nods towards the door.
Gauge throws his hands up in surrender. “Come on, bro. I haven’t even talked to you yet.”
“Not interested,” Jaxon mumbles. “Leave. Now.”
Gauge leans across the island, too close, but that’s his move; he wants everyone off balance. “Dimi, you still letting him call the shots, or have you grown some balls since high school?”
Stupid fucking nickname. I roll my eyes and stand beside Jaxon. “I’m not getting in this mess,” I mutter.
Gauge shrugs. “Remember what I said about Jax’s history of getting a little… unhinged. Especially when it comes to things that aren’t his.”
Jaxon bares his teeth in something like a smile. “You want to say something, say it.”
Gauge lifts his chin, eyes sharp. “Just that you always did have a thing for broken things, bro. You got obsessed, and then when things didn’t go your way, you—”
Jaxon moves before I even register it, slamming Gauge back into the fridge with a bang.
“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Jaxon spits and I’m already moving. My hand closes around Jaxon’s arm as I try to rip him off his brother.
