Page 3 of Jax

Chad grunted. “That’s better.” He slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.

She exhaled slowly, all pretense of bravery crumbling away as she slid down to the cold, hard floor. The bag of food lay forgotten beside her, its contents as unappetizing as the life she'd been forced into. Mia openedThe Jungle Bookonce more, seeking solace in the familiar words and characters, her heart aching for the freedom they represented.

"Shere Khan," she whispered, then she rubbed the back of her neck. "I need your strength now more than ever."

Chapter two

Jax

The dim glow ofmultiple screens cast eerie shadows across Jax's industrial loft apartment. Hunched over his laptop, fingers flying furiously over the keys, he was like a mad scientist in a digital laboratory. The outside world ceased to exist as he navigated intricate networks and bypassed formidable firewalls.

There was one project in particular that he was working on that he just couldn’t let go of, though. He couldn’t bypass the security systems, and it was pissing him off. He was better than this. How could something as pathetic as a strip club have tighter security than the freaking government? Jax had hacked into governors’ top-secret case files before, and yet the Easy Gal Strip Joint in downtown Chicago had him baffled.

"Jax!" Blake's voice cut through the room like a knife. "What the hell are you doing in there?"

"Busy," Jax muttered, not looking up from his screen. "Go away."

"Enough, Jax," Nash added. "You've been locked in your room for days. It's not healthy. You’re not a teenager anymore."

"Got shit to do," Jax snapped, irritation flaring at the interruption. His focus wavered, and he gritted his teeth, attempting to regain the thread of his work. Why couldn't they see that he needed to concentrate?

"Dammit, Jax!" Blake slammed his hand onto the desk, jostling the precariously stacked empty energy drink cans. "We're worried about you! Talk to us!"

"Look, I know you're trying to help, but—" Jax began, finally tearing his gaze from the screen.

"Help? Jax, this is more like a fucking intervention!" Nash exclaimed. "You're so wrapped up in this digital world that you can't even see what it's doing to you!"

"Intervention?" Jax scoffed. “It’s not like I’m playing online games or addicted to gambling. This is important. Plus, I can handle myself, thanks."

"Can you? Because all we see is a brother who spends every waking moment glued to his screens, forgetting to eat, ignoring his friends," Blake shot back, frustration clear in his voice.

"Really, guys?" Jax sighed, rubbing his temples. He didn't need this right now. He didn't need them invading his space and telling him how to live his life. But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered, what if they're right?

What if his obsession with hacking into this strip joint had gotten the better of him?

"Jax," Nash said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We just want you to be happy and healthy, bro. You've got people who care about you out here in the real world. And people you need to take care of. Don't forget that."

“You know the dictionary definition of an addiction, right?” said Blake, trying to stand between Jax and his computer screen. Undeterred, Jax just looked at a different screen. “It’s when youno longer have control over something. It controls you. And it becomes harmful to you. You start neglecting other areas of your life.”

“We heard you haven’t been showing up to your shifts at the library,” said Nash.

That part was true. Jax worked one day a week in the university library’s Special Collections department. It contained some of the oldest, dustiest books in existence, and it was nothing but pure pleasure for Jax as he pored over those old tomes.

But lately, he hadn’t had time for it. And that was his business. Nobody else’s.

Jax sighed. “Look guys, I know you both care about me, but . . . I’m working on somethin’ important, okay?”

“Go on then, what are you working on?” asked Nash, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, man,” added Blake. “You won’t tell us anything about the project.”

“That’s not the way Paladin Security works,” reminded Nash. “We’re a team.”

Jax gritted his teeth. His brothers were right. Their private security firm, Paladin Security, just didn’t work unless the three of them worked together. Each of them were big personalities—Daddy Doms, in fact—and they specialized in taking care of vulnerable women, and in particular Littles. The problem was that the case that Jax was trying to crack now involved Savannah’s Little.

Three weeks ago Savannah had received a tip-off that Mia was working at a strip joint in town, but the strip joint turned out to have better security than Fort fuckin’ Knox. Savannah and Blake hadn’t managed to infiltrate the place, and nor had Jax. He didn’t want to tell his brothers that he hadn’t been able to give upon the damn project—and it was all because of the tattoo on Mia Fiorelli’s neck.

Savannah had been the one to show him an old photograph she had of Mia’s tattoo. Back when they were in foster care together, Mia had gotten the tattoo illegally and Savannah had taken a Polaroid of it with their foster father’s camera. Savannah had shown Blake and his brothers the picture while they were looking for it, and Jax had instantly recognized it.

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