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Chapter Four
Rebel
Fuck. My head still feels like it’s going to explode, even now. I wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop the other day, I just happened to be around the corner when Jax and Thorn started talking about Raven training with Ace. I was going to join them and say how happy I was to see her too when Jax’s derisive snort stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I listened. And ever since I’ve been questioning myself, wondering if I heard them right?
Jax used Raven.
He had sex with her.
Justto get her to come out of her room.
Two days later and I’m no calmer. I’m still raging. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad as hell that she’s out of Nix’s room and fighting, but at what cost?
The thing that pisses me off the most is the hypocrisy. That Jax of all people, Mr play by the rules, slept with her after badgering us to leave her alone with his stupid ‘no romance’ directive.
I was so close to storming after him and confronting him. The red mist came down and I wanted to hurt him. Probably still do. Instead, I forced myself to go to my room and I’ve stayed here ever since. Raven missed me but I claimed to have a headache when she came to check on me. I didn’t open the door. I knew that as soon as I saw her face, I’d either burn up with rage all over again and go hunt Jax down, or my control would snap and I’d throw myself at Raven.
While both of those options sounded quite appealing, I didn’t think they’d be good choices to make in the long run, hence staying shut up in my room for two days now.
Today I’ve been calmer. It’s been so long since I’ve played my guitar properly, but mindlessly strumming helps clear my thoughts. It’s a relief to be able to sit on my bed and play around with different riffs. Lyrics have been taunting me all night, and I know that I won’t have any peace until I get them down. But fuck am I rusty. The floor is littered with all my fucked up and failed attempts to convey what I’m feeling. At least I’m no longer mad at Jax, now I’m mad at myself for not being able to find the words I want to say.
And to make matters worse, my brain has decided it wants to slip into the dark and murky past. I don’t want to think about Casey and Beth right now, but ever since I stupidly brought it up with Baxter, I’ve not been able to stop.
He’s so misguided.
For some reason he wears the guilt of their deaths heavily upon him like a shroud. But I don’t see it that way at all. We were kids, there was no way Bax or I could have saved my big sister and baby niece. I owe Bax everything for going after my sister’s killers. He did the one thing I couldn’t: served up justice where the authorities failed.
My phone buzzes, distracting me from reliving their deaths on repeat, and it’s a welcome interruption. Until I see that the message is from Thorn.
Get your head out your ass, stop sulking and come the fuck downstairs! We have shit to do.
He’s a fine one to talk about sulking! He’s barely been sober for more than twenty-four-hours at a time the last four years. I shake my head at his crappy reformed angelic attitude, not buying it for a second, and rattle off a quick reply.
Busy. Working. Some of us have contracts to uphold.
I can’t resist the little dig. He’s such a spoiled little brat. I don’t think he’s ever done a day’s hard work in his life.
My phone buzzes again, with a call this time. His annoying ugly mug flashes up on my screen.
“What?” I snap.
“Dude. One: I told you not to sign that contract. You've literally handed over a piece of your soul.”
“Your second point?” I sigh. There’s no point in telling him I didn’t sign shit. My band’s manager has been hounding us to sign the new contracts for weeks now but there’s no way in hell I’m signing it. I can’t go on tour. I’m not leaving Raven, and I’m sure as shit not leaving Phoenix. I’m convinced she’s mine, and even if a crappy piece of paper says she isn’t, I’m going to love her like she damn well is.
“There isn’t another point,” Thorn says, confused. I shake my head. He clearly started his little speech indicating that he had more to say, but he obviously doesn’t have the brain cells anymore to remember that.
“Fine. Can I go now? I’m working.”
“No! I told you, we have shit to do.”
“And I told you, I’m busy.” I run my hand through my hair, frustrated.
“You’re going to want to help with this. Trust me. Get your ass downstairs.”
Grumbling, I hang up and toss my phone down on the bed. I could do with stretching my legs anyway. But first I’ll have a damn shower and take my time to show Thorn I’m nobody’s bitch.
***
