Page 141 of Undisputed Player
"Problem?" Jax asked, his voice deceptively casual as he stepped beside me, his arm snaking around my waist.
Owen's gaze darted between us, realization dawning. "You're the reason she's leaving," he grumbled, his tone accusatory. “You’re the one who sent the movers.”
Jax didn’t smile. “That’s right. And you’re the guy who acts like this dump is five-star real estate. These two are moving in with me. Hilsboro Mile.”
Even I blinked at the mention of the street. It carried a lot of weight.
Owen’s eyes widened, and then he sneered, giving way to bravado. "Didn't take you long to trade up, did it, sweetheart? Found yourself a sugar daddy to pay your bills?"
He barely got to finish.
It happened so fast I barely saw it. Jax's fist connected with Owen's face, the crack of bone, the spray of blood as Owen stumbled backward, tumbling down the path to land on the sidewalk. Jax flexed his hand, gold rings glinting in the sunlight, now smeared with Owen's blood.
"Shit," he muttered, frowning at his rings. “I just got these cleaned.”
Owen wailed, one hand clutching his face as the other groped uselessly at the air.
Behind us, Leo pushed the door ajar and peeked out.
Jax rolled his shoulder once and bent low to wipe his knuckles right on Owen’s shirt. “This is one of those times you’re allowed to hit someone,” he told Leo, serious.
Leo nodded, as if this was real advice. “Okay.”
I sighed. “Not the lesson I was trying to teach…”
Jax grinned sideways at me. “You were doing just fine putting this shi—sleaze—in his place. It was hot.”
I’d noticed early that Jax was good at watching his language in front of children.
“Let’s go home.”
He grabbed Leo’s and my hands, his grip firm and warm.
Jax opened my car door, I turned back one final time to look at the building. The place where I fell asleep to sirens and woke to screaming neighbors. The place where Leo asked if ghosts were real. The place where I once thought I’d live forever, because it was the best we could do.
It wasn’t anymore, and we were leaving it behind.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Jax
The house was velvet-quiet, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filtering through the partially open balcony doors.
I lounged against the headboard, sheets pooled carelessly at my waist, the night air a gliding over my bare skin.
Leo had gone down easily tonight, exhausted from the day's excitement. We spent hours after coming back from the apartment down on the sand, finding crabs with him and sifting through tide pools.
I took a slow sip of Macallan 25, letting the smoky amber liquid linger on my tongue. The burn felt good, a counterpoint to the satisfaction settling in my bones.
Today had been productive. Seeing relief bloom through Estelle's face once she realized Damon was truly gone from their lives. Watching her shoulders relax as she explored her new home. The way she'd traced her fingers over the marble countertops like she couldn't quite believe they were real.
And then there was Owen. I smiled into my glass, rememberingthe satisfying crunch of his nose beneath my knuckles, the way my rings had split his cheek open. The pathetic fuck had looked at Estelle like she was something to consume, something he had a right to. The memory of his blood on my rings was almost as sweet as the scotch.
I took another sip, savoring the perfection that was my life. The Macallan 25 was older than Estelle herself, both of them being utterly perfect and silky smooth.
My silver gun gleamed on the nightstand beside the bottle, cleaned and polished to perfection. The safety was on, the chamber empty, but Estelle didn't need to know that. Not yet. Not until those honey eyes flashed with the exact flavor of desire I wanted tonight.
The bathroom door opened, a cloud of steam curling into the cooler bedroom air. And then she appeared, my Estelle, wrapped in nothing but a white towel, her skin flushed pink from the heat of the shower. Water droplets clung to her shoulders, trailing down to disappear beneath the fluffy cloth.
