“Been better.”
She looks between us. “Where’s Jax?”
Long pause.
“In his room,” I say carefully.
“Is he okay?”
“Probably not.”
Her face crumples slightly. “I should call him.” She pulls the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands. “But I don’t know what to say to him.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “He’s the one who opted out.”
“But maybe if I—”
“Tiger.” Callum’s voice is firm. “This isn’t on you to fix. He’s the one who needs to figure his shit out.”
She nods but doesn’t look convinced.
“Tell us about Marcus,” I say, changing the subject. “You said the meeting went well?”
She lets us redirect her. She tells us about the appeal process, about how Marcus thinks they have a strong case, and she’s terrified.
We talk for almost an hour. About everything except Jax.
When we finally hang up, Callum says, “She’s going to call him.”
“Probably.”
“And he’s going to make her feel like shit for not choosing him.”
“Maybe.”
“We should talk to him.”
“He won’t listen.”
“We have to try.”
I’m about to respond when there’s a knock on the door.
I open it.
Jax is standing there. His hair is wet like he just showered.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I let him in.
He stands in the middle of the room. Callum sits up on his bed.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Jax says.
“Do what?” I ask like an idiot.
He looks…tortured. “I’m fucking pissed.”
