Page 8 of Jax
I took the stairs. Concrete under boots, metal rail warm from the day. The corridor on her level was shaded and cooler, with a hint of cleaner that never covered the truth. A window unit somewhere down the row rumbled like it might not make it.
4
LARK
Ikicked the door shut, juggling a take-out container in one hand and my keys in the other. The quiet that settled over my tiny apartment was almost startling after the constant roar of engines and the crackle of radios at the track.
Dropping my stuff onto the counter, I blew out a breath and let the silence soak in. My first day was officially done, and I hadn’t cried, quit, or tripped over myself too badly in front of the drivers.
Except for the blond guy I’d bumped into…and kept replaying in my head way too often when I was supposed to be focused on my new job.
I was still taking today as a win, though.
I padded over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water before snagging my dinner and sinking onto the couch. It was barely more than a loveseat, shoved against the wall across from the television, and there wasn’t room for much more. The place was small, but it was home. At least for now.
Shifting until I found a comfortable spot, I folded my legs under me and twisted the cap off my bottle of water to take a sip. My head still buzzed from the noise and heat of the day, butunderneath it all was something I hadn’t felt in a long time—pride.
I’d kept up with the chaos at the track. Handed out credentials, answered questions, and even managed to earn a few smiles from people who didn’t look like they did it often.
Not too bad for my first event.
I opened the takeout and dug into the greasy noodles, savoring every bite as I flipped the TV on for background noise. A rerun of a sitcom I’d seen before played in the background as my mind wandered, chasing the edges of thoughts I usually kept locked down. Fragments from my life before.
The flashes were blurry because I’d trained myself not to dwell on them. The faintest outlines were all I allowed—hazy images of family dinners in the house I grew up in. One I hadn’t seen in two years since starting over meant not looking back.
My stomach twisting, I pushed the container aside and drew my knees against my chest. The hardest part of being in witness protection was not being able to reach out to my parents. I was their only child, and they had no idea where I was or if I was okay. And there was nothing I could do about the pain they must be feeling.
Wrapping my arms around my shins and resting my cheek on top of my knees, I reminded myself that my new life was here now. I just had to keep holding it together until the danger passed, and then I’d finally be able to see them again.
I zoned out in front of the TV until a sharp rap at the door jolted me upright. My stomach tightened. The only people who ever came over were the agents in charge of my protection, and an unexpected visit probably meant bad news.
For a few seconds, I stayed frozen on the couch, debating if I could just ignore it and pretend I’d been asleep. I wasn’t expecting anyone. But curiosity had me getting to my feet.
I padded over, and my hand hovered over the deadbolt before I finally slid it back and cracked the door open.
Jax stood there, his hat pulled low and shadowing his gray eyes. Even half hidden and behind glasses, his gaze was still piercing when it met mine.
“Uh—hi?” It came out more like a question than a greeting because I was stunned to see him.
“Do you always answer the door without finding out who it is first?” he snapped.
“Um…”
He shook his head as he dipped his chin and muttered, “Need to check your setup.”
My head tilted to the side as my brows drew together. “My…setup?”
“Redline Kings look after our people,” he explained. “Gotta make sure you’re squared away.”
The words sounded casual, but the air between us was charged. My reaction to him felt too intense for the fragile bubble of peace I’d built inside these four walls. I was torn between slamming the door shut and stepping back to let him in. But the choice wasn’t really mine since I needed my job.
So I swallowed hard and forced my voice steady. “Okay. Um, come in.”
I opened the door wider, and he brushed past, leaving me rattled in his wake.
Jax didn’t sit. Instead, he prowled around my apartment like he was casing it, his gaze flicking over the mismatched furniture, the stack of junk mail on the counter, and the jumble of clean clothes I hadn’t folded yet. Nothing escaped those sharp eyes as he did a thorough check of the small space.
I stood awkwardly near the kitchen counter, twisting the cap of my water bottle until the plastic creaked.
