Page 33 of You Were Always Mine
Rafe whistles low, trying to cut the tension. ‘Guess the devil’s got you by the throat, huh?’
Yeah. And her name is Scarlett.
The bar reeks of sweat, beer and smoke — a low hum of voices mixing with the clink of glasses — but all I can taste is the bitter ash in my mouth. I drain half the whisky before I even sit, the burn doing nothing to cauterise the wound in my chest.
Jax is loud, laughing, slapping the table like the world’s a joke. Rafe’s already leaning back with a cigarette hanging off his lip, eyes cutting through the haze — sharp enough to know I’m not laughing.
‘You should’ve seen your face when that turn nearly ate you alive,’ Jax smirks, pushing his glass towards me. ‘Thought we’d be scraping you off the road.’
I light my own cigarette, take a drag, let the smoke choke me before I answer. ‘Would’ve been cleaner that way.’
Jax whistles low, but Rafe’s gaze doesn’t flinch. He just studies me like he knows what name is sitting on the edge of my tongue.
‘You’re getting sloppy, brother,’ Rafe says — voicecalm, deadly. ‘Racing like you’ve got a death wish. What’s her name?’
I slam my glass down harder than I mean to, whisky splashing over my fingers. ‘Drop it.’
Jax grins wide, leaning in like a dog that smells blood. ‘Scarlett,’ he says, dragging out every letter just to see me twitch. ‘Little sister got you tied in knots?’
The chair screeches as I stand, the cigarette shaking between my fingers. My knuckles ache from how hard I’m clenching them, and the only thing stopping me from putting Jax through the table is Rafe’s voice — low and steady.
‘Sit down, Kai. Don’t give him the satisfaction.’
My chest heaves, rage and whisky flooding me, but I drop back into the chair anyway, dragging smoke into my lungs until it burns.
Jax laughs again, like he hasn’t just fed petrol to a fire I can’t put out.
All I can think about is her — Scarlett — her eyes, her mouth, her broken voice whispering my name like a curse.
The bar stinks of smoke, whisky and sweat, and I’m already three shots past the point of giving a fuck. Rafe slams his glass down, grinning wide, eyes too bright, while Jax leans back in his chair like he owns the whole rotten place.
‘Game time,’ Rafe says, teeth flashing. ‘Truth or drink.’
Jax smirks, lazy and cruel. ‘You know how this goes, brother. No answers, you drink. Simple.’
‘Fine.’ My voice comes out colder than I mean it to, but the burn in my chest feels good — numbing. ‘Ask.’
Rafe points at Jax first. ‘Truth: what’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done?’
Jax grins, licking the rim of his glass before answering. ‘Hermum. On the kitchen counter. While her dad was asleep upstairs.’
Rafe howls, almost choking on his drink, while I just stare, stone-cold. Doesn’t faze me. Doesn’t touch me.
Then Jax turns his eyes on me — that smug, testing look. ‘Alright, Kai. Your turn. Truth: why’d you really rip that arsehole apart at Hell? Over Scarlett?’
Scarlett.
Her name in his mouth makes my jaw lock so hard I hear it crack.
‘Drink,’ Rafe says quickly, sensing the tension. ‘Just fucking drink.’
Jax doesn’t shut up. He leans closer, eyes narrowed. ‘What’s she to you, Kai? Little sister? Or something else?’
I grin then — dark, dangerous — the grin that makes people flinch before the blow lands. ‘Fine. You want the truth?’ I slam my glass down so hard the liquid splashes. ‘I’d burn this whole fucking town down before I let another man touch her. That’s what brothers do.’
Silence.
Rafe stares. Jax smirks like he’s won.
