Page 24 of Jaxon

Jaxon’s face crumpled. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You just—you drive me crazy, you know that?”

When he finally met her gaze again, the fury had vanished, leaving something else in its wake. Something fragile and broken that made her chest ache.

Rachel took a tentative step forward, then another, until she could reach out and take his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry too. I should have known you would never—” Her voice caught in her throat. “I trust you, Jaxon. I do. My head’s just taking a while to catch up with my heart.”

Jaxon’s eyes darkened, flickering to her lips. He pulled her closer, his hands settling on her waist in a possessive grip. Even through her shirt, his touch seared her skin.

“You can’t do that again,” he said. “Scare me like that. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Rachel’s breath hitched as he dipped his head, nuzzling against her neck. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the brush of stubble against her throat. Her pulse raced under his lips.

“I’m right here,” she whispered. She slid her arms around his shoulders, anchoring him to her.

He shuddered against her, his embrace tightening. The raw emotion in it made her eyes sting. How had this man broken through her defenses so easily? Stripped away the layers of armor she’d built up over years?

“I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you,” Jaxon said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine. The only good thing.”

Rachel closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek. She thought of the tattoos on his back, the secrets they held, the grief and guilt he carried with him always.

Her fingers curled into his hair as she held him close. “You have me,” she said. “For as long as you want me. As long as you’ll let me stay.”

Jaxon pulled back to look at her, his eyes glassy with tears. Rachel’s heart clenched at the sight. She reached up to cup his cheek, brushing her thumb over the rough stubble.

“Talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He swallowed hard, struggling to compose himself. “You can’t do that again,” he repeated hoarsely. “Put yourself in danger like that. I can’t lose you too.”

Too. The word echoed in Rachel’s mind, realization dawning. She thought of the angel wings on his back, the secrets etched into his skin.

“Who did you lose?” she asked softly.

Jaxon’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides for a moment before he turned away, shoulders hunching. Rachel waited patiently, giving him the space to gather himself.

When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with pain. “My sister. She was killed five years ago.” He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “It was my fault. I was supposed to protect her, but I failed.”

Rachel’s heart broke at the anguish in his tone. She moved to stand beside him, slipping her arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently.

Jaxon’s hand came up to cover hers, his grip almost bruising. But she didn’t pull away. She only held on tighter, offering what little comfort she could.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the only sound their mingled breaths. A profound sadness filled the space between them, tinged by the ghosts of loss and regret. But beneath it all was a fragile tendril of hope-the promise of solace in shared grief, of healing in the light they had found in each other.

Jaxon swallowed hard, staring unseeingly ahead. “Her name was Sophia. There was a fight over territory with the Wolverines that got out of hand. Sophie...she jumped in to defend me. Took a bullet meant for me.”

His voice broke on the last word. Rachel felt her own eyes burn with tears at the image he painted. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a sibling that way, or the guilt that must have haunted him ever since.

“I’m the reason she’s not here anymore. If I hadn’t gotten her involved in this life...” He trailed off with a ragged sigh.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Rachel said. She turned to face him, gripping his arms. “You didn’t pull the trigger. You loved your sister, and she loved you. That’s why she did what she did--to protect you. Not because of the life you led, but because of who you were to each other.”

Jaxon stared at her for a long moment, eyes shadowed. “Can’t I?” His eyes flashed, anger and grief twisting his features.

But she could see the first glimmers of hope peeking through, the beginnings of absolution in her words. He drew a shaky breath and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in a bone-crushing embrace.

Rachel held him just as tightly, a pillar of strength against the tide of anguish and regret. She understood now the meaning behind the angel wings, a memorial to the sister he had lost and a reminder of the sacrifice borne of love.

“Thank you,” he whispered, lips brushing her hair. She smiled, nestling closer to his chest.

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