The bedroom door creaks behind me. “Jax?” Hope’s voice is small and full of sleep.
I loosen my grip, but not all the way, and flick my eyes to her as she steps closer. She’s wearing Jaxon’s jersey and nothing else, hair a fucking riot, with a flush on her cheeks.
“Wow, little brother. You don’t waste time, do you?” Gauge’s eyes flick up and down Hope, and he grins in this way that curdles my blood.
Did they…?
Hope’s face goes from confusion to crimson in about two seconds. She tugs the shirt down, crossing her arms. “Get out of our house, Gauge,” she snaps, voice steadier than I’d expect.
Gauge smirks, pushing Jaxon off with a practiced twist. “Feisty.”
Jax’s knuckles turn white as his grip on Gauge’s collar tightens, but his voice is calm. “You don’t know anything about it. About her. About me.”
Gauge doesn’t move and seems unbothered about having his little brother in his face. He’s not here for a fight. He’s here to get under our skin, and he’s doing a damn good job. “Alright, alright. But you should probably let your girl know what kind of crazy shit is going on with the cops. They’re going to find Coach, you know. Cops always do. Theydigup everything.”
Hope’s eyes narrow, the shift in her instant. “There’s nothing to dig up. I have no clue where my father is. Let him leave, Jax.”
Jaxon huffs, releases his hold, and takes a step back from his brother.
Gauge almost looks delighted. “I wonder who here has the most to hide.”
Knox sighs. “Enough. You delivered your message, now fuck off, Gauge.”
Gauge gives me a long, appraising look as he stalks to the front door, then gives me a little mock-salute. “Nice seeing you, Dimi. Say hello to your father for me.”
He doesn’t break his stare as he leaves, and the silence that follows is thick—too thick.
“What the fuck was that all about?” I spit out without a second thought.
Hope glances up at me, and there’s something like an apology in her eyes. I want to tell her not to bother, that I don’t need her to explain or justify or even care about my shit. I want to be the guy who shrugs it off, who can take it and move on, but I’m not. I’m the guy who wanted her first and lost her to the only person more broken than I am.
I don’t know what to do with that feeling, except let it rot.
Hope pads over to me on bare feet, arms hugging herself tight. “Are you…” She trails off, words running out before she even starts. She smells like Jax and I can’t look at her.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I turn away from her, wanting to find something to do with my hands, but the kitchen is too clean.
“Dimitri,” she starts and I hold up my hand.
“Please, not now, Hope.” I hate this side of me, but I can’t help it. I just somehow… can’t.
Knox clears his throat. “That was a lot.”
“It always is,” Jaxon grumbles.
“He said the cops are getting close. To the cabin,” Hope says.
“He’s just trying to scare us,” I say, but my voice cracks on the last word.
Twenty-one
HOPE
Work is awkward. Dimitri isn’t looking at me, let alone talking to me, like seeing me in Jax’s jersey drained something of him, put up a wall between us. I want to knock itdown, but since talking is clearly not an option, it makes for a tense ride to work.
Knox tries to say something to Jax, but Jax shakes his head, saying now isn’t the time. Jaxon starts to walk into the building, then turns and kisses me gently. He gives me a threadbare smile. “I feel better today.”
“Your back?” I ask.
