Chapter Five
As her fingers flew across the ivory keys, Liv tried to just focus on what she was doing. To live in the music. Follow the beat. Pay attention to her timing. Use the energy from the crowd to propel the notes forward. Watch for cues from Jo, who was crooning a vintage, jazzy version of "Lovefool," like she was painting each line of lyrics in cursive.
If she just focused on that, and on the music, and on the crowd, then she couldn't focus on the fact that they had one more set left for the night, and he still wasn't here.
Last Friday, he was in the lounge by at least six o'clock, and it was almost nine now. While she still wasn't sure exactly where he lived in California, she knew he had at least a two or three hour drive into town, so the fact that he wasn't here didn't necessarily mean he wasn't coming. But still - the Friday before that, the first Friday they'd met, he'd been in the lounge even earlier than last week. How pathetic was it that she even remembered that?
He didn't owe her anything. Certainly didn't owe her any kind of explanation. He'd had her number for almost a whole week and hadn't used it. He could do whatever he wanted, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that he wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
Not like she could blame him.
If she were him, she probably wouldn't show up either.
If she were him, she'd probably pretend they'd never met.
That would probably be easier at this point.
And even now, she was still grateful to Jo for spilling the beans last weekend. Because tonight she'd get her answer on whether the complete mess that was her life was more than what he could handle. Tom Petty was right though - the wait is the hardest part. Every moment that ticked by felt a little bit soul-crushing, a little bit heart-breaking, and a little bit pathetic.
Jo shifted on her high heels, gathering the skirt of her flowy emerald green dress, to cast Liv one long, pointed glance, as if she could read her thoughts, and then turned back to the microphone to croon in that melancholy rasp, "Lately I have desperately pondered, spent my nights awake and I wonder, what I could have done in another way to make you stay…"
So that didn't help either.
Not connecting anything she was feeling right now to the lyrics of the song was harder than it should've been. Why did this have to be so hard anyway? She barely knew him. He barely knew her. They hadn't done anything other than talk on the roof. They were barely even friends. She wasn't bound to him, and he certainly wasn't bound to her.
But some of these lines hit home, and they hit home really damn hard.
I don't care if you really care as long as you don't go.
So I cry and I pray and I beg for you to...
Ugh. This was just stupid.
She was just stupid.
This whole thing was stupid.
What was the point of getting attached when being only slightly attached could sting this much? This right here - this was exactly why she didn't really let herself get attached to people anymore in the first place. Jo was the only person in her life who'd never disappointed her. Everyone else, including her brother and especially her mom, had always let her down one way or another. Why had she expected anything different from someone she barely knew?
Because she was stupid. That's why.
Stupid and pathetic and naive. It had been a really, really long time she'd felt stupid and pathetic and naive too. Men typically didn't pull the wool over her eyes because she knew better than to fall for a pretty face and even prettier words - and plenty of that passed through the casino on a nightly basis.
But Jax Teller had been different. Well, at least she thought he was different. That was her mistake, not his.
Around the time they took their bows for the night and hopped off the stage to start their last shift on the floor, the answer was pretty clear.
He wasn't coming.
If he was, he would've been here by now. She liked to believe he would've been well aware that she'd be sitting here, feeling exactly the way she was, anxious and fighting against disappointment if he was in the casino and didn't show up in the lounge. And she liked to believe that if he wanted to be in the lounge, he would've made it happen by now.
"Hey," Jo murmured to her as they waited at the bar for their next round of drinks. "Are you okay?"
Liv just shrugged. "Sure."
Jo blew out a heavy sigh next to her, eyeing her with more empathy than Liv wanted to see right about now, and then she leaned in to whisper, "I'm gonna meet up with Happy again tonight. Is that okay?"
"Of course it's okay," she huffed out a laugh. "You don't need my permission to go hook up with your boy toy."
Jo's eyebrows lifted in amusement. "First of all, I really like your phrasing. Second of all, are ya sure you don't want me to stick around? I can meet up with him tomorrow after the fight - he's not gonna go anywhere."
"I like the confidence," she grinned.
"Thank you. Now answer my question, missy."
Liv just shook her head as she hauled her now-full drink tray up on her shoulder. "I'm fine. Go have fun, Jo. You deserve it."
She hesitated just long enough to hoist her own tray on her shoulder before they parted ways. "Alright. But I'll find out what's going on, okay? Happy has to have some idea about why he's not here - maybe something came up? Maybe he's coming tomorrow and -"
"He's not coming, Jo. Just drop it," she winced when that came out a little harsher than she'd intended, and so she tried to infuse some lightness in her voice now. "But hey, you were right. Now I know where everything stands, and I'm glad I know now, rather than later, just like you said."
Jo stood there with her drink tray on her shoulder, watching her with pity and a little bit of grief too, and Liv didn't like any of it. This didn't need to become a thing. This was the kind of thing that should just be forgotten about and moved on from.
But the problem here, she realized as Jo kissed her goodbye on the cheek and handed over her car keys, was that she really had thought Jax was different.
Someone she could trust. Someone she might be able to depend on.
She couldn't explain it, but she'd felt safe with him too, both physically and emotionally. Like if Viktor had decided to send one of his henchmen up to the roof last weekend and put a bullet in her head, Jax just might've decided to step in and help her, rather than run, literally, for his life. And if she'd decided to tell him her deepest, darkest secret herself, he just might've listened without any judgment.
But none of that mattered anymore, she thought with a heavy heart.
It was better this way. Better to just know she couldn't even depend on him to be a good friend before she actually started to depend on him.
It was just too bad none of this made it burn any less. It was just too bad all of this only made her realize how badly she'd wanted to depend on him in the first place.
And it was with that thought that she plopped down on her chair in their dressing room and reached for both her makeup wipes and Jo's stash of bourbon at the same time.
Seven Hours Earlier
Jax tossed another Samcro T-shirt into his bag as he ran through his mental checklist - toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, boxers, some jeans, a few T-shirts, his boxing gloves, tape… yeah, that looked like just about everything he needed for the weekend. Nerves were starting to get the better of him, even though he wasn't really sure why.
This was just a weekend.
Just another fight in the books. Money in the bank. Even though he was still on the fence about what he was actually going to do with his money from the fights now that his original plan was shot to shit.
But this weekend felt different because it was.
He'd hemmed and hawed about using the phone number that was still in his wallet, and he'd gotten as far as saving it in his prepay just in case. At various points throughout the week, he'd written a text and stared at it for a good 15 minutes before deleting it. Or he'd started writing a text, couldn't figure out what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, and then deleted it. Or he'd pulled up her number, let his finger hover on the call button for longer than he was willing to admit, and then chickened out at the last second.
No matter what he did or how he tried to rationalize it, he just couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. Didn't quite know where or how to start. Maybe it was because there were so many things he wanted to say to her. And because there were so many things he both wanted and needed to say, figuring out where to start was too daunting. Too scary. Too real.
Besides, he told himself, at least this way, he could just say all those things this weekend when he could go back up to the roof with some smokes and some pretty great fucking company. Maybe it was better to say it to her face too.
She deserved that, and he wanted to be able to give it to her.
With that thought, he swiped his journal off his nightstand and sank down onto his bed. He slipped the printout he'd tucked away in there for safe-keeping and unfolded it. Finding some time to discreetly, not to mention quickly, poke around on the computer in T-M's office had been trickier than he'd anticipated - his mother always seemed to be up his ass whether he was on a shift in the shop or just about anywhere else, so he'd had to seize the opportunity when he found it.
It wasn't so much that he didn't want anyone to catch him googling poetry. He just didn't really want to have to explain why.
His eyes dropped to the last part of the poem, and as if they had a mind of their own, his lips lifted into an absentminded smile.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
The elegant script inked on Liv's left arm flashed through his head, and after a moment of hesitation, he uncapped the pen he kept in his journal with his teeth and underlined the last two lines.
Just like Liv, he wished he had an answer to that question.
And maybe, unlike Liv, those last two lines weren't even the ones that hit him the hardest. It was the line before it that maybe moved him the most: Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Everyone died, and everything ended, at last and too soon. There was nothing anyone could do about it either. And the crazy thing was - just two weeks ago, he'd only been happiest in the ring, getting his face bashed in and tearing his knuckles apart until they went numb and probably would've welcomed the peace a nice and quick death would bring, as morbid and depressing as that was. Now, he still craved the high he got from being in the ring. He still needed the release it gave him. But it felt a little different now too.
His head shot up at the knock on his door, and he shoved that printout and his journal into his bag, zipping it up just as his club president and stepdad pushed open the door and ventured inside his dorm.
"Hey, son," Clay smiled good-naturedly at him as he moved even closer, clamping his teeth around his cigar.
Jax gritted his teeth, pushing up to his feet and hitching both hands on his hips. This had better be short and sweet because he had to hit the road with Happy. So he set Clay's use of the word son off to the side and chose to focus on just getting him out of here.
"What's up?"
That was the best he could do.
His dorm was his only real personal space in the clubhouse and in Charming, too, and right now, Clay was seriously encroaching on that space. Not to mention outstaying his welcome in about two seconds.
Judging by the exasperation on Clay's face, he knew it too. "I need you to sub in for Bobby today."
"What do you mean?" he frowned. "I gotta leave for Reno in, like, five minutes."
Clay held up a hand in defense. "Bobby's kid is in the hospital - I dunno, there was some kinda accident and he's in surgery, so Bobby's headed to St. Thomas right now."
Jax's eyebrows lifted into his forehead and he ran a hand over his face. "Aw, shit. Is he gonna be okay?"
And true to form, Clay just shrugged. He could claim to care all he wanted, but at the end of the day, all Clay really cared about was his bottom line. If Bobby couldn't pull his weight, then Clay was going to find someone else who could.
And what had Jo told him last weekend?
He has to get his pound of flesh somehow.
Yeah. Maybe Clay Morrow and Viktor Putlova weren't that different. Clay needed his pound of flesh, and it looked like he was on the chopping block whether he wanted to be or not.
"Clay, I gotta -"
"You can head to Reno tomorrow. I know you guys like headin' up the day before so you can prep and everything, and I get that, but I need you to take one for the team here and go on this protection run. It's a quick and easy one - you'll be back at the clubhouse before ten tonight."
Because who really gave a shit what he wanted? No, it was all about what Clay wanted. What was best for Clay. What made Clay happy. What helped Clay sleep at night. Nothing else really mattered.
This protection run the club had going for Unser today was going to be quick and easy, but that wasn't the fucking point. He had a routine before his fights - a routine that was more like a ritual than anything, and Clay knew that. He fucking knew it, and he was pulling this shit anyway.
"Look, I get that someone's gotta sub in for Bobby, and I really do hope his kid is okay, but I gotta get to Reno tonight. Why can't someone else do it? I'm not the only one in this clubhouse who wasn't already scheduled to go on this run."
He held Clay's stare for a long moment. Clay could easily ask Happy to do it - if he could mess up Jax's pre-fight routine, why couldn't he mess up Happy's? But no, Clay obviously had more respect for Happy than that. Chibs was out and about too, but here he was, asking Jax to completely upend his plans instead. They both knew who else could go on the run today if he really wanted to - Clay fucking Morrow. He wasn't doing jackshit today around the clubhouse or around T-M either. He could do it if he wanted to be a decent guy, and to take one for the team like any good prez should from time to time, but Jax wasn't going to hold out hope - Clay didn't even round the corner of being a decent guy.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, almost as if he could read Jax's thoughts. "I'm tellin' you I need you to go on this run today, and so that's what you're gonna do."
Ah. So this was a power play. That's what this really was. Flex his muscles and throw his weight around so he could remind his VP who was in charge. Like Jax could ever forget.
"Oh yeah?" Jax tipped his head to the side, regarding his club prez with enough animosity to fill up his dorm. "And if I say no?"
Of course, he couldn't really say no, and they both knew it. He just liked seeing that flash of misplaced rage flicker across Clay's face.
"You and I both know you don't really have to be in Reno the night before a fight. Unless, of course, you got somethin' going on up there I don't know about."
"No," Jax pushed out through gritted teeth. "I don't. But I got a routine and I need to stick to it if I wanna win tomorrow. And if I win, I win the club some money. You remember that part, right?"
Only the last part of that was really true. Reno appealed to him for more reasons than he could really count, and the two biggest ones were things he could never say out loud, at least not where anyone in or out of the clubhouse could hear.
Reno helped him put distance between himself and all this shit and all these people here that he just couldn't stomach. Liv was also in Reno, and he liked spending time with her a helluva lot more than he liked spending time with anyone in Charming. Those two reasons alone were enough to keep going back, and getting in that exclusive underground fight league just sweetened the deal.
But fuck if he was gonna be honest with Clay.
"Well, sure, Jax," he was saying now, his lips curling back into a snarl. "I remember. Do you remember your place here? Do you remember that you still have a duty and a responsibility to this club? Or are you gonna be selfish instead?"
Jax took an aggressive step forward, clenching his fists at his sides. "You really wanna talk to me about being selfish? Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Clay huffed out a laugh, like Jax was somehow the most unreasonable and unrelenting one in this room, and held up a hand. "I didn't come in here to fight with ya. I'll leave you to do that in the ring tomorrow night. But you're gonna get your ass in line and you're gonna take Bobby's spot in that protection run today because that's what the club needs you to do."
No. It was what Clay wanted him to do. No one needed him to go on this run - they could easily make do with one less Reaper kutte on this job if they had to. This was about forcing him to tow the party line and keep his mouth shut, whether he liked it or not, and regardless of the long-standing plans he already had in Reno.
This was about Clay once again forcing him to do something he really didn't want to do. Once again disrespecting him and caring more about appearances than the sick rot festering inside this club. And what would be the point of saying any of that shit out loud? It wouldn't do any good, and Clay wasn't about to listen, or God forbid, change.
So he did the only thing he could with the options available to him - he towed the party line.
And now his entire weekend and his entire pre-fight routine would be thrown off. He had to wait another day to see her too.
And now he just wanted to avoid everyone else too, except for Happy, who he found in their makeshift training ring behind the clubhouse, getting ready to leave for Reno just like he should be doing. Happy glanced up from throwing his boxing gloves into a bag and tipped his chin to Jax in greeting.
"You almost set to hit the road?" Happy's gravelly voice called out.
Jax pushed out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his buzzed hair, which was slowly but surely getting a little longer. "Somethin' came up with the protection run today - Bobby's kid is in the hospital so Clay's got me takin' his place."
"Aw, shit," Happy sighed, shaking his head as he glanced back down at his bag. "The kid gonna be okay?"
At least someone else in the club seemed to have a heart. Happy was continually surprising him - just when he thought Hap was gonna go left, he went right instead. And unlike Clay, and probably just about everyone else inside the clubhouse too, Hap seemed to realize what he did too: wasn't the fact that Bobby's kid was in the hospital more important than who was going on this goddamn protection run anyway? Was anyone in contact with Bobby right now to check in on his kid? Anyone going to the hospital just to be there for him?
Jax didn't have those options anyway because now he had to take Bobby's place.
"I don't know. Clay didn't seem to know that much about it, but I gotta leave soon with Tig and Juice and a couple of the prospects. Even if I'm back by ten at the earliest, that's still too late to head to Reno today. I'm gonna have to catch up with ya tomorrow when I get there."
"Shit," Happy exhaled, and then shook his head. "That's gonna fuck up your pre-fight, isn't it?"
All he could do was shrug helplessly. He didn't have any other options.
"Well, this fucking sucks," Happy huffed. His eyes dropped to the ground in thought, his hands on his hips, and then he lifted his gaze up to meet Jax in the eye again. "You want me to wait? Then we can ride up together tomorrow morning. No good reason why I can't."
Yeah, Jax thought wryly, other than missing out on some more playtime with Mrs. Robinson.
But still.
"Nah," Jax batted a hand in the air. "Don't worry about it. There's no good reason why your routine's gotta be fucked up too. Just stick to the original plan, and I'll see ya tomorrow, a'ight?"
Happy just shrugged, never one to rock the boat if he could help it, and just as he waved goodbye and headed toward the parking lot, Happy's gruff voice called out to him again.
"Hey, you need me to pass anything along to anyone in Reno when I get there?"
That gave him some pause, but only for a second.
"Nah," Jax waved that off again. "I can take care of it."
Happy just shrugged again, clearly a little relieved that he didn't actually have to pass anything along either. "No worries. Just figured it'd be easy enough for me to get a message to that girl you're tappin' now if you wanted me to."
Jax's lips parted to respond, but all that came out was a laugh. "Nah, bro - I'm not…" he huffed out another laugh and shook his head, "It's not like that with her."
Happy's tattooed hands flew up in the air, and now he really looked like he regretted stepping in. He wasn't exactly known for poking around in anyone else's business, but Jax also knew he was just trying to be a decent guy - unlike their club president.
"A'ight. Sorry, bro. I just figured you and her were doin' the same thing as me and her friend."
"Nah," Jax flashed him a grin as he started to backpedal toward the parking lot. "Like I said, it's not like that. But hey, good for you - that redhead seems like she'd be a tornado in the sack."
Happy lifted his eyebrows at that, but kept his mouth in a firm line. "You got no idea, bro. And that's all I'm gonna say about it."
He barked out a laugh, still shaking his head while he rounded the corner to the parking lot. "And that's all I wanna hear about it too. You have a good night, and I'll see ya in the morning."
Jax was still chuckling to himself as he pulled his prepay out of his kutte and scrolled through his contacts. Given that Tig and Juice were already settling into their seats on their bikes and strapping their helmets on, he had about 30 seconds to take care of this before he needed to do the same. In the end, this was probably for the best anyway - he couldn't get into his own head now and overthink it because he just didn't have the time to overthink it.
Even if calling was the better choice, rather than a lameass text, he figured she was probably already on stage and wouldn't be able to answer anyway. At least this way, she'd get the message whenever she had a chance to go on break, and at the very least, when she was done for the night. He didn't really like the idea of her potentially not knowing he couldn't make it into town tonight until after her last set, but there was only so much he could do. And this way, he didn't run the risk of sounding like a complete asshole in a voicemail.
So he shot off a text without giving himself the chance to overthink it as he walked up to his bike. And then, after he strapped his helmet on and settled into his seat, he slipped his prepay out of his kutte to send her a second text before he thought better of it and before he could talk himself out of it.
And then he revved his engine, and fell in line behind Tig and Juice, just like he was supposed to.
The run went off without a hitch, like they always did.
Unser's cargo was safe in transit and they'd seen it handed off right where it needed to go before they turned around and headed back to town. By the time Jax parked his bike in the parking lot at the clubhouse again, he'd been on the road for about six hours roundtrip, almost as long as he'd slept the night before, and he found himself wishing, for about the 30th time today, that he was anywhere but here.
Well, he knew exactly where he'd rather be - and he knew exactly what he was missing out on too.
"How much money you think we pulled in on this last run?" Tig was saying to Juice now as they swung their legs over the side of the bikes and headed straight for the clubhouse.
Juice just shrugged, and a little too easily for Jax's liking. "I dunno. You saw the cargo same as I did. I bet that whole truck was worth at least 100K, maybe more, depending on whether Unser can get some decent buyers for the heavier shit, but it should be a good haul."
"A good haul?" Tig barked out, clapping Juice on the shoulder with a sly grin. "Bro, we are gonna make fuckin' bank if we all keep this shit up. With that cut we got from that Russian deal and these runs and those fights in Reno - we're gonna be just rollin' in it pretty soon."
Right.
Like Tig had anything to do with those fights in Reno. The most he ever did was ask if they won right before he collected his cut. And this weekend, incidentally, Jax wasn't even able to prep properly for one of those fights because he'd gotten stuck on this run.
"Hey," Jax pushed out through gritted teeth. "Anyone hear anything from Bobby?"
Tig and Juice just blinked back at him for a second. Jesus Christ. Did they fucking forget? Were they so wrapped up in these runs, in this club shit, that they forgot their brother might be going through something right now? To his credit, Juice immediately dipped a hand into his kutte to unearth his prepay and checked his screen.
Tig, on the other hand, just stared him down. Like he was the one in the wrong here. Like Jax had just made some kind of egregious, not-so-subtle accusation, and maybe he had. Still, he didn't see Tig reaching for his phone the way Juice just did.
"I got nothin'," Juice called out. "Anyone else got anything?"
Jax was already digging for his own prepay, figuring he'd better put his money where his mouth was, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't more disappointed that he didn't see an unread text from Liv, rather than Bobby. Was he even really better than the rest of them? At least he thought to ask, which was more than he could say for Tig.
"I got nothin' too," he told them. "I'm sure Gemma's got some intel by now though. If she doesn't, then nobody does."
And that was about how long he wanted to stick around and make small talk with those two. The job was done, and so he headed for the clubhouse's double doors, brushing right past Tig on his way through.
"You got somethin' to say to me, Jax?" Tig called after him.
His steps stalled with indecision. They could hash it out here and now. Sure. He could get in Tig's face and throw out every accusation he wanted - which wouldn't even be accusations because they both knew what was true and what wasn't. That would probably start a shoving match, at least. Maybe they'd both get a few swipes in too before Juice and the prospects pulled them away from each other.
What good would any of that fucking do? Tig was no better than Clay. Just running around like his little lapdog and his little errand boy, doing whatever Clay wanted him to whenever Clay told him to do it. And just like Clay, he wouldn't listen, and he sure as hell wouldn't change either. And if he was broken up at all about what he did to his own club brother, Tig sure had a funny way of showing it.
They wanted to just sweep it all under the rug and just keep doing what they were doing like none of it ever happened.
And in the end, Tig just wasn't worth it. He especially wasn't worth the risk of getting messed up the day before a fight.
"Nah," Jax called over his shoulder. "I got nothin' to say to you."
Nothing that would matter.
Nothing that would change anything, that was for sure.
He stopped at his dorm long enough to grab some smokes and his journal and headed up to the roof of the clubhouse. If he couldn't get on the roof in Reno, he figured he had to settle for it here.
As he dragged a lawn chair right over to the edge, he checked his prepay again. Still nothing. He didn't really know her well enough to know if she'd be ticked at him for bailing today - even though they hadn't had any pre-arranged plans and he hadn't technically bailed and didn't technically owe her anything, just like she didn't owe him anything either, but he figured she wasn't that kind of person. And if she had the same set schedule as last Friday, and he figured she probably did, then she was probably just about to finish up for the night.
So he settled back against his lawn chair, lit up a cigarette, opened his journal, and waited.
Liv tossed her third makeup wipe in the trash and reached for another one. So maybe she'd overdid it on the full coverage foundation today, but at least she could rest assured that it hadn't melted underneath the unforgiving stage lights. Now, she was just sitting here, trying not to feel too sorry for herself, and quietly sipping away at the tiny bit of bourbon she'd poured in her glass.
She winced at that burn sliding down her throat, but that was fine. It was just enough to take the edge off, especially since it was looking like she probably wouldn't be going to the roof tonight. While she could go by herself and hang out with Roz, that also felt a little sad too. Almost as sad as just calling it a night and going home.
There was, however, a nice bottle of cheap champagne at their apartment. A glass or two of that might work, seeing as how there was nothing going on anyway and she had nothing, if anything, to celebrate.
I'll drink to Jo finally getting some again, she thought to herself with a wry smile. That's worth celebrating.
Just as she got to work on wiping off the remnants of her liquid eyeliner, some buzzing from inside her purse had her reaching down to unlock the mini locker where they always kept their purses and their phones, just to be on the safe side. She absentmindedly glanced at her screen and almost spit out some bourbon in the process.
Two texts from an unknown number - the first one was sent about six hours ago, and the second one about two minutes later, like it was an afterthought.
Hey, this is Jax. Something came up with the club. Not gonna be in town til tomorrow.
Should be back at the clubhouse around 10. Feel free to give me a call after your last set if you wanna talk.
And then… before she could stop herself, before she could give herself a second to just think about this, she hit send.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she quickly stomped them down as she gulped down the rest of her bourbon. There was no time for that shit right now because on the second ring, she heard his smooth, deep voice through her phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Jax."
She could almost, almost hear him smile through the receiver. "Hey, Liv. How's it goin'? I'm guessing you got my texts?"
"Right," she laughed. "How else would I have your number if I didn't?"
"That's true," he chuckled. "You have a good night? Your sets go okay?"
Liv bit back a grin, even though she knew he couldn't see it anyway. God, she was practically bursting at the seams right now. "Same old, same old. Jo slayed it onstage as usual, and the joints in my hands are only slightly sore, so all in all, a pretty good night."
And even better now that she knew all her wallowing and this little pity party she'd thrown for herself was completely premature. She really had been wrong about him.
"Good to hear. Tips okay tonight too?"
"Yeah, it was a decent night. Saturdays are usually a little better. I think people tend to drink more on Saturdays than Fridays, and we also get some of the people in town for the fights in the lounge before they head to the basement, so there's usually just more people around anyway."
"Makes sense. If I didn't need to prep for the fights, I'd be there too."
Why was her heart pounding so uncontrollably right now? It wasn't like this was the first time she'd talked to someone on the phone before.
"So what are you up to right now?" he was asking now. "You headed to the roof or are you there already?"
And once again, they'd slipped into this routine where they only talked about her. But if they were going to talk on the phone like this, then maybe it'd be a little bit easier to get some real information out of him. It was only fair, given everything he already knew about her.
"Uh, no. Actually I'm still in my dressing room…" she glanced down at her long, tight black dress and kept right on talking before she could put a lid on it, "and I just realized I'm still in my stage costume too."
There was a pause on the other end, and since she was chewing on her bottom lip anyway, and trying to figure out what the hell to do from here, she just kept right on talking.
"Jo ditched me for Happy again tonight, so I was just about to head home to pop a bottle of champagne in her honor."
"Champagne, huh? What happened to gin and tonics?"
"Ah, I guess I'm just in the mood for cheap champagne. And it just happens to be what we've got in the apartment, so there's that. I figured I should just get used to this though - Jo taking off and ditching me so she can have her playtime."
His light chuckle rang out through her phone, and she found herself smiling in response. "Looks like they're probably gonna make that a habit. Is it weird for you? Her hookin' up with some guy?"
She knew what he probably could've added, but didn't - her hookin' up with some guy that's not your brother.
"Well," Liv sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. "I feel a little bit like my parents got divorced, and I'm stuck in the middle, and my mom's just starting to date again - which, don't get me wrong - is great. It really is, and I really do want my mom to be happy, but the thing is, I know she's still in love with my dad, you know? And even though my dad was an idiot, and really, really hurt her, I know he still loves her too."
He was quiet for a moment, like he was sifting through that analogy and picking it apart piece by piece. "Yeah, I get that. If it makes you feel any better, after my dad died, it took me longer than I'm willing to admit to accept that it was okay for my mom to start hooking up with Clay. Now, Clay was also one of my dad's best friends, so that didn't really make anything easier either."
"I can't imagine it would," she smiled. "Hey, would you mind if I set the phone down for a second just so I can change out of my stage costume?"
"Go for it. I got nothin' but time tonight, Liv."
"Okay," she chuckled. "Just hold on a sec."
Then she set her phone down, careful to turn it face down so he'd be less likely to hear her shuffling around and basically getting naked in her dressing room. So, she made quick work of getting her zipper down and shimmying out of her dress, and then whipping her normal clothes on before swiping the phone back into her hand as she slipped her shoes on.
"Alright," Liv exhaled, tossing her purse strap over her head as she spoke. "I'm back, and I feel a million times better."
"Good," he laughed. "Are those dresses you wear on stage really that uncomfortable? I mean, they don't look uncomfortable, or at least, you don't look like you're uncomfortable wearing them."
She stilled for a moment as those words rang in her head. Was he subtly telling her he liked… no, she shook her head. There was no reason to get too far into her head. This was just two friends talking after a long day. That's all this was.
"Some of them are more comfortable than others," Liv allowed, quickly putting Jo's stash of bourbon back in its hiding spot, and headed for the door. "But they look good on stage and that's all that really matters."
"Yeah, I suppose. So, you headed back home now? You're really not gonna go up to the roof tonight?"
She chuckled into the phone again, taking a few turns down the employee corridor behind the lounge - there were plenty of hallways, not to mention entire rooms and offices, hidden in the depths of the casino, and she'd worked here long enough to know this whole place like the back of her hand.
"Well, if I went to the roof, I'd just be by myself. I figured if I'm gonna be doing any drinking alone tonight, I might as well be in the comfort of my own apartment."
"That is true. How far away from the casino do you ladies live? Not tryin' to be weird or anything, I was just wondering how far you gotta travel right now."
And here was a pretty good opportunity to try to mine some information from him too.
"Our apartment is technically only about two miles away from the main drag here, but depending on the traffic, it can take anywhere from five minutes to a half an hour to get to and from work. So, what about you? Are you in your clubhouse right now?"
She waved to Chuck, the bouncer who always sat by the employee entrance by the lounge to walk everyone to and from their cars. He fell into step next to her, just like he always did, and luckily enough, since she was on the phone, he couldn't ask her where Jo was, which meant she didn't have to explain it.
"Uh, yeah, I'm in the clubhouse right now," Jax was telling her now as she hit the unlock button on Jo's car and slid into the driver's seat. "I'm actually up on the roof."
Her heart might've stuttered, but everything else stilled.
Deep breath, she told herself. Don't make it weird. Don't make him regret texting you.
So she decided to just sidestep his last comment and the fact that maybe, just maybe, he'd wanted to be on the roof at his clubhouse because he couldn't be on the roof here with her tonight.
"Where is your clubhouse anyway?" Liv asked, hoping that would be enough to shift gears. "I mean, I know you're from California, obviously, but I don't know where you're from in California."
Jax hesitated, like he hadn't been prepared for her to turn the tables on him like this, but he recovered quickly. "I live in Charming. You ever heard of Stockton or Lodi?"
"Sure."
"Charming is right in between those two, for the most part. San Jose is a little less than an hour away from us, if that helps."
"Okay, I think I got it," she told him, mentally working through the map of California she was picturing in her head to place it. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess it's a pretty small town, huh?"
"It's not big, that's for sure," he laughed, but there was some bitterness in his voice now that hadn't been there before. "It's one of those towns where everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everybody else's business. Kinda hard to come and go without anybody watching, if you know what I mean."
"You mean like the cops?"
Oops. That just kinda slipped out before she could stop it. But at least he was laughing again, and that bitterness she'd heard before was long gone.
"Sure, like the cops," Jax chuckled. "There's plenty of other people in Charming that know when we come and go, but the cops are definitely some of them."
Liv bit back a wince as she pulled out onto the main drag and quickly took the first left to get away from the traffic. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make assumptions, but… you were in that meeting with my boss and some really creepy Irish guys, who I can only assume are part of some kinda gang back in Ireland."
Her phone pinged in her hand then, and she glanced down at her screen to find a text from Jo waiting for her: He had to do something for their club tonight. He's coming tomorrow!
"Hey, those assumptions weren't wrong," Jax was saying now. "I told you I was in prison and gave you a pretty good idea what I was in for, didn't I?"
"That's right," she smiled softly, even though he couldn't see it. "You did."
When he didn't respond, she just dove right into her next question.
"So, how long does it take you to get into Reno from Charming then?"
"Ah, it's about a three-hour drive, but I don't mind it though. The weather's been pretty nice, and anytime I can get on my bike and just ride for a while is a good day in my book."
He definitely seemed to want to steer clear of talking about the club, but he'd also let her walk up to that line pretty darn closely a few times. And it wasn't so much that she was fishing for information about him - she was just curious. She wanted to know more than she did, and she wanted him to feel like he could tell her things too. Besides, he already knew the worst thing anyone could possibly know about her. All of her secrets, all of her truths - it was all pretty much right out in the open for him now. Not knowing anywhere near as much about him made her feel vulnerable in a way she'd never been before. Like she was treading water with him and barely keeping her head above the surface.
Jo might call that intimacy, but Liv liked to think of it more as honesty.
Her next question fell out of her mouth before she could really think about it, "What kind of bike do you have?"
His light laugh echoed through the phone, and she had to bite down on her bottom lip because she liked the sound a little too much.
"I've got a Harley Dyna Glide. I bought it - hmm…" Jax trailed off, like he was sorting through his memory. "I think, twelve or thirteen years ago now. That was a little bit after I first patched in. Here - hold on a sec."
Some muffling bounced off the speaker now, and about ten seconds later, her phone pinged with a new text message. Since she was just rolling up to a stop sign, she opened up the text to find a picture of a gleaming silver and black Harley motorcycle, nestled in between a long line of equally well-cared for Harleys.
Her eyebrows immediately leapt into her forehead. Holy shit. That was what he rode around on?
"Wow," Liv exhaled with a laugh. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Am I allowed to say it's really, really pretty? Is that a thing people can say about motorcycles or is that against biker rules? I love how you were able to just pull up a picture of it and send it to me like that, by the way. What, do you have, like, a million pictures of your bike on your phone or something?"
"Hey now," he shot back lightly. "I'm not sure I could call myself much of a biker if I didn't have, like, a million pictures of her on my phone."
"Oh, so it's a her, huh?
"Absolutely it's a her, Liv. Absolutely. I treat my bike better than I treat myself, to be honest."
There was something in his voice that she couldn't quite place. Something a little wistful and kind of sad, too, that she didn't like hearing.
"Well, it looks pristine, just so you know."
"Thanks," he chuckled. "But to answer your question before - yes, you are allowed to say my bike is really, really pretty. One hundred percent. Definitely not against biker rules."
"She's really, really pretty, Jax."
His bright laugh bounced through her phone again, and her lips nudged up at the sound.
"Yes, she is, Liv. Yes, she is," and then after a beat, his deep voice took on a little more smoothness than she was used to hearing from him, "You ever been on a bike before?"
Once again, she chose to sidestep that for now, or rather, how he'd said it, and moved right through it as she pulled into a parking stall outside her apartment building.
"Once, actually."
His light laugh filled her ears again, with just a hint of surprise in it too. "Lemme guess - some guy got you on a crotch rocket, didn't know what the hell he was doin' on it, and scared you off bikes for life, right?"
"Uh, no," she huffed out a laugh, shaking her head and sliding out of the driver's seat at the same time. "Not even close. One of my mom's old boyfriends had a bike. I don't think it was a Harley though, but it definitely wasn't a crotch rocket," she snickered a little at that, and liked the way he joined right in with her, "Anyway, he took me around the block by the apartment we were living in at the time."
"And what did you think?"
"You know, I'm not sure, to be honest."
Liv could almost see him frowning at her through the phone, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she'd never really given this particular memory that much thought before. She'd made herself forget it more than anything.
"What do you mean, Liv?"
"It's hard to explain, I guess," she sighed, feeling heavy all of a sudden as she put her key in the door and let herself into her apartment, stepping out of her shoes and tossing her purse on the kitchen table. "I was ten, maybe eleven, I think, and I didn't really know the guy. I think he was just trying to impress my mom, but I remember feeling… uncomfortable with the whole thing," and she'd never really told anyone that before either, not even Liam. If he'd known, he definitely would've done something about it.
And she could hear it in Jax's voice, that same hardness that she was sure she would've heard in her brother's voice too.
"What do you mean you were uncomfortable?"
"Like I said," she laughed uneasily. "I didn't really know him. My mom had a bad habit of bringing every guy she dated around, not just the ones she was more serious about, so we had the misfortune of meeting them all. Liam was still living at home then - I remember that. But this guy... I don't know. I didn't like him from the start. And every time he came by our apartment, he'd always ask me if I wanted to go for a ride with him, and I'd always say no until one time he just sort of grabbed me and pulled me out into the parking lot and put me on the bike."
She paused there to gauge his reaction and to give herself a moment to decide if she wanted to keep talking, if she really wanted to tell him the rest of this story, especially since she'd pushed it so far away in the depths of her memory that she'd forgotten it up until now.
But he didn't say anything, and instead, chose to give her the time and the space to keep talking, if that's what she wanted.
And as it turned out, she did.
"So here I was, ten years old, maybe eleven, sitting on the back of this bike with this old guy - well, he was probably in his 30s then, but he seemed so much older at the time, and he's telling me to put my arms around his stomach and hold on tight and it just… it just didn't feel right, you know?"
"Yeah," he murmured hoarsely. "I know."
Liv shook her head at the memory. "I remember him yelling over his shoulder while we were driving down the street, asking if I liked the way the vibrations felt. I wanted to get off the bike after that."
Jax blew out one long, heavy breath before she heard his voice again. "You ever tell your mom?"
"No," she just shrugged. "I guess I just didn't think she'd believe me. And I didn't tell Liam because I thought he would believe me. That guy didn't stick around for too much longer after that though, so I don't really know what happened between them."
"I'm sorry, Liv. That really…" he pushed out another heavy sigh, "that really fucking sucks. Shit, my first time on the back of my dad's bike was one of the best moments of my life. That freedom, the wind in my hair and on my face and… the fact that it wasn't like that for you, that it's tied to this fucking piece of shit your mom was with… I'm sorry, Liv. I don't know what else to say."
"You don't have to say anything, Jax," she told him, a wistful smile quirking her lips. "And hey, I'm sorry I took us down such a dark road. You asked me a completely innocent, non-threatening question and I turned it into that. I didn't mean for us to spin out like that, pun sort of intended."
"You don't have to be sorry. I appreciate you tellin' me though."
It was right on the tip of her tongue to ask why that mattered, why he'd appreciate her telling him something like that now, like she was giving him a heads-up about how she might feel about getting on the back of a bike in the future, and then she spat out something else entirely.
"I've never actually told anyone that before. I kinda forgot it even happened until you asked me if I'd ever been on a bike."
Jax fell silent again, and she could hear some shuffling in the background, like he was getting up and moving around on the roof. Her lips parted to try to steer them in another direction now, but his rough voice cut her off.
"Hey, I don't know if this is the right time to talk about this, but I'm gonna do it anyway. You got a pen handy? Somethin' you can write on?"
"Uh, sure," she frowned, and moved into the kitchen to dig through their junk drawer. "Just gimme a second."
After scrounging around for a pad of paper, she grabbed a pen and uncapped it. "Okay. I'm ready."
"Alright," Jax's voice didn't sound any less rough than it did before. "Write this number down: 775-555-2368. Keep it somewhere safe besides just in your phone. If you ever run into any kind of problems, any issues, anything at all where you feel like you're in trouble and it can't wait, call that number and ask for Jury White. Tell him I gave you his number, and he'll do anything you need him to do as a favor to me. No questions asked, Liv, okay? He'll help you, even if you and Jo just need a safe place to land until I can get there."
Liv swallowed hard, but her voice died out on her. "Okay."
"Jury's the president of the club's charter in Indian Hills. I'll give you the address for the clubhouse over there when I see you tomorrow, but I don't know it off-hand. Anyway, I've known him forever and he was one of my dad's oldest friends - he'll help you if you need it, and he'll know how to get in contact with me if you can't for some reason. Don't hesitate to call him, okay, Liv? I'm serious."
She knew what else he was subtly telling her without having to actually come out and say it: if she needed him, and if she found herself in a tight spot with the Putlovas, she could call him and he'd help her. And if it was an emergency, and since he had a three-hour drive into Reno, he was giving her a plan B until he could get there.
Her throat burned at that realization. Tears stung her eyes again. She'd never expected this. No one had ever offered anything like this to her before and so freely too, without any expectations, without asking for anything in return. He was just… doing it. She didn't even know how to start processing something like that.
"Look, Liv," Jax went on in a low voice. "I know who the Putlovas are. I know what they do, and I know how they operate. I'm not gonna sit here and pretend I have even the slightest idea what it's like to be in your shoes right now, 'cuz I don't. I'm not gonna tell you what to do either. And I'm not tryin' to say I think you're some kinda helpless damsel in distress or somethin' that needs saving -"
"You mean, I'm not?" she tossed out lightly, trying to bring some levity back to this conversation.
He huffed out a laugh, but he wasn't exactly about to let up either. "Nah. You're not. I think you're in a pretty terrible fucking situation that's not your fault, but that's not the same as being helpless. I know you know Jo told me everything, and for better or worse, I know now. And if you want my honest opinion, Liv, and I don't mean to speak outta turn or anything, but your brother really fucked you over. Like… beyond the pale of what anyone should put the people they're supposed to love and protect through. I'm not gonna say he deserves to be in prison 'cuz that's not for me to say, but I hope he's sittin' in there, so sick to his stomach over this that he can barely get outta his bunk in the morning."
"I think it's safe to say he's pretty sick over it, Jax," she murmured.
"I know," he responded quickly, probably more to make sure she understood he wasn't really trying to badmouth her brother. He was just being honest, and that was okay. "And I know how you feel about him, so that's all I'm ever gonna say about it, a'ight? I guess I just needed to say my peace and now we can move on."
"Alright. So, back to the part about me not being a damsel in distress?"
He chuckled through the phone again. "Sure. What I was gonna say is that I think you're doing everything right and you're doing everything you can to protect yourself."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Liv just shrugged. "And let's be honest here, if I was a damsel in distress that needed saving, you couldn't save me even if you wanted to."
Because she was never going anywhere. She was bound to Viktor Putlova through her brother's debt until he got out of prison or until his debt was paid in full - or until Viktor decided enough was enough and he put a bullet in her head once and for all. And if she decided to make a run for it, she could go to the ends of the earth, and he'd still find her.
"I know," Jax sighed heavily. "But you're right - there's nothing else you can do other than what you've been doing."
"Jax, you know you don't have to do any of this, right? I understand what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. I really, really do, but I don't want you to -"
"Hey," he laughed. "We're friends, right?"
And even as she pushed out a sigh of relief, her traitorous heart still squeezed and twisted.
"Yeah," she grinned. "We're friends, Jax."
"Now, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you just might be the best friend I've got right now. I mean, honestly, I think I like you more than I like just about anyone in Charming with all the shit that's going on here, and that means I gotta have your back. Friends look out for each other. So that's all this is - me lookin' out for my friend and makin' sure she's alright. If you need something, Liv, if you're in trouble and you need help, all you gotta do is ask."
Those stupid tears pricked her eyes again, and she had to swallow them back a few times before she could figure out how to answer him.
And finally, the most honest response was the only response she could give.
"I think you just might be the best friend I've got right now too," she whispered.
"Alright. That's settled now. We got it outta the way, for the most part. We don't have to talk about all that shit again unless you want to."
"Well, actually," Liv pushed out another heavy sigh. She didn't necessarily want to have to tell him this, but he deserved to know and to have all the facts going into this weekend, and every weekend after it. "You should probably know - he changed up the terms of our arrangement last weekend. I'm sure Jo told you that I meet with him every Sunday, right?"
"Yeah," he murmured. "She did. What do you mean he changed the terms?"
His voice was laced with some new concern now, with a touch of anger too, and that was hard to set aside. Really hard.
"He wants me and Jo at all the fights now until further notice - well, all the afterparties, at least. That's definitely… it's definitely different, that's for sure. He's never asked us to do anything long-term like that before and with no real end date either."
"Did he say why?"
She had to smile now because she could almost see him leaning forward in his chair with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other as he hung on every word she said. Because this was important, and this part of it involved him just as much as it involved her.
So, Liv took a deep breath and let it fly.
"Not specifically, but he told me he's noticed that you and I have become - I think he used the word, friendly. And then he launched into this whole thing about how my happiness is important to him and how your comfort and your happiness while you're in town is important to him too and he kind of just… told me to keep making you happy as long as it made me happy, if that makes sense."
All she could hear on the other end was his breathing, coming in and out a little heavier than it was before. And then he blew out one long, measured breath before she heard his voice again.
"You think he was tryin' to tell you to… I dunno, I guess I probably wouldn't be able to change his mind if I told him we were just friends, huh?"
"No," she huffed out a laugh, shaking her head as she poured herself a tall glass of champagne. "And I think you'd do more harm than good if you did. Once he's got his mind made up about something, that's it."
"And that's all he said? He didn't give you anything else?"
"That was pretty much it," she sighed. "I learned a long time ago that I can't take anything he says at face value. He acts so nice and polite every time I see him, but I know - I just know - that at any point he could reach into his desk, take out a gun, and shoot me. So I just don't really know what to make of this or what he's really doing here, but it's probably not good. I'm hoping this is just his twisted way of trying to make sure two of his employees - sorry, but that's kinda what you are now - but I think he's just trying to keep us both in line by making us feel like we're safe. But we're not. Well, at least I'm not."
Jax was quiet for a moment, and she knew he was just giving himself some time to digest all of that, and considering his words carefully before he responded - it really was a lot to take in, but in so many ways, it was such a relief to be able to talk to someone this way, and about these kinds of things, besides Jo. Especially someone like him, who really did have a unique understanding of what she was dealing with. He didn't have that one-percenter patch on his kutte for no reason.
"I think I already know what you're gonna say to this, but," he told her in a quiet voice, "you want me to start going with you to those meetings? I'm already in the casino on Sunday mornings anyway. If he thinks you and me are… well, you know what I mean, but he couldn't be too surprised if I start showing up with you, and then at least you'd have someone else there."
She sucked in a shaky breath. Because while she desperately wanted to say yes, there were too many reasons why that was probably a terrible idea.
"You're not supposed to know about our arrangement, Jax. Nobody, besides Jo, is really supposed to know, and he doesn't want her in those meetings with me either. We've been doing it this way for the last two years, and I just don't know how he'd react if you started coming in there with me. And say he does decide to shoot me someday - if you're there, he's just gonna shoot you too, and what good would that do?"
Jax blew out a heavy, agitated sigh, and then, after another moment, he murmured, "I get that. And the last thing I wanna do is make anything worse for you, but just think about it, Liv. I'm willin' to give it a try if you are."
"Alright," she smiled, feeling those stupid tears sting her eyes again. "I'll think about it."
She didn't know what she'd ever done to deserve this. They definitely didn't know each other well enough or long enough for her to deserve this from him. This guy had just been literally dropped into her life, so randomly, so unexpectedly, and the more she thought about it, the more she really did believe that, other than Jo, he was the best friend she'd ever had.
And so, because she didn't want to start sobbing into her champagne glass, she promptly moved them right along.
"Hey, you wanna know a secret?"
His light chuckle reverberated through the phone. "Hit me."
"So Viktor gives the band a monthly budget for things like costumes, equipment, makeup, shoes, that sort of thing, right? And for some reason, he lets me and Jo control it. I guess he trusts us or something."
"Okay," he laughed.
"And I swear on Jo's life that we really do use the money to get the things we need for everyone in the band, not just us, but there's always plenty leftover, so instead of giving it back… we spend it. Like a surplus, you know? We'd hate for him to look at our spending and think we didn't really need that much every month."
"Well," Jax tossed out lightly. "Can't have that."
"Absolutely not. And it's not our fault that he always has to have his nose in everything around here and micromanages like nobody's business. So, we take that extra money every month and have a little fun at Sephora and Nordstrom. I always do our makeup before we go onstage and - could I buy a moisturizer to go underneath our makeup that isn't $200? Sure. Could I buy stage heels that aren't designer? Of course I could. But I like buying those kinds of things knowing he's footing the bill. He never - and I mean, never - questions us on our receipts. He knows we need to buy costumes and undergarments and makeup anyway, and he just… I don't know if it's because he only looks at the cost and not the line item or if he just has no idea what he's looking at, but he's never said a word just as long as we don't go over budget."
"So lemme get this straight," he shot back, his voice laced with amusement. "You ladies run up Viktor Putlova's tab on expensive makeup and designer clothes on purpose every month and he's none the wiser to your game?"
"Yep, pretty much. And, you know, all that expensive makeup and my La Mer moisturizer and some of those designer shoes have to come home with us too. I mean, we can't just leave stuff that expensive sitting out where anyone can see it. That kind of stuff needs to be protected, Jax. Chanel foundation is precious. Absolutely precious."
He barked out a laugh. "Sure. But your dressing room has a lock, doesn't it?"
"Shut it," she sassed back, and just kept right on talking over his laughter. "Don't ever say that where anyone who works with me can hear you, especially anyone in the lounge."
"That's kinda evil, not gonna lie."
"Is it though? I like to think it's a little bit of what he deserves. A teeny, tiny, pretty insignificant little bit of revenge, but I'll take what I can get. That's pretty much the only thing we really have any control over in that place, other than our sets, so we take it, and we run with it."
"Hey, I say you milk it for all it's worth and treat yo'self."
"And, seriously, Jax," she laughed. "That $75 foundation I just ordered will look like crap if I don't take care of my skin, so it all kinda goes hand in hand, you know?"
"I have no idea what any of that means, and I don't really want to. I'll take your word for it, Liv."
"I didn't expect you to," she smirked. "But there it is. Now you know all my secrets," and this might've been a good time to remind him that she didn't really know anything significant like that about him, but Liv decided to just cut right to it. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you - do you actually live in your clubhouse or do you just hang out there?"
He huffed out a laugh. "What makes you say that?"
"I don't know. I was just wondering," Liv shrugged, settling back against the couch and sipping some more champagne. "Ugh, this stuff is kinda terrible."
"What? That champagne shit you said you were gonna drink?"
"Yeah," she winced through another sip. "Here I thought I was gonna pour one out to Jo finally getting laid again, and… let's just say we didn't exactly spring for the top shelf. It kinda tastes like dry rotten apples. Ugh, we're never gonna buy this again, that's for sure."
"Well, maybe we can pour one out for her and Hap tomorrow night. I'll get ya somethin' better than cheap champagne though."
Liv smiled into the phone, chewing absentmindedly on her bottom lip. Yeah, that sounded really good. That actually sounded better than good. It was crazy… tomorrow was technically only a few hours away, but she wanted it to be here already.
"Sure. Then we can celebrate your win too."
"Absolutely, Liv."
"I think that's a good plan," she grinned again. "But you never answered my question before."
"Alright, alright," Jax laughed - and this was a real laugh, something genuine that even he seemed a little surprised about. "I do actually live in the clubhouse. I don't just hang out there."
"So you don't have a house or an apartment or anything like that?"
"Nah," he shot back cockily. There was that swagger again. "I'm just a 30-year-old guy living with a bunch of other guys in a clubhouse. Is that bad?"
"Hey, I'm not here to judge. Besides, I'm just a 28-year-old girl whose roommate might as well be her mom, so I'm not one to talk either."
"At least you have a pretty damn good reason for living with Jo. I'm just lazy and don't really feel like messin' around with getting a house or an apartment and then having to pay for it too when I can just live in the clubhouse rent and mortgage free."
"Like I said, Jax," she laughed again. "I'm the last person that's gonna judge someone else for their life choices. I was just wondering since I don't really know how any of that works."
She dropped that there, hoping he'd pick it up and actually tell her something more substantial than what town he lived in and what kind of Harley he drove. And when he fell silent yet again, she decided to try a different tactic.
"I'm not trying to pry or anything," she murmured, wincing again as some of that godawful champagne slipped down her throat. "Ugh."
"You're still drinking that shit, huh?"
"I can't waste it, Jax," she shot back. "It's already in my glass. I might as well drink it."
"Well, when you put it like that," he chuckled. "But… you know, I'm sorry I had to skip out tonight. I had my bag all packed and everything and then somethin' came up that I couldn't really control."
"You don't have to be sorry," Liv shrugged. He was talking to her now, and that was really all that mattered. "I get it. The club is basically your job, and you got called in. That's kinda how it goes, right?"
He paused again, and she wondered if maybe he was gearing up to actually explain what he'd been doing, and then she wondered if maybe she'd asked too many questions tonight. If he wanted to tell her anything at any point, he would.
She wished he would though. She found herself wanting to know everything about him.
"Yeah, I guess that's one way of looking at it," Jax sighed. "I definitely wasn't happy about it. Clay… he's just got a way of getting whatever he wants whenever he wants and he doesn't really give a shit about anyone else."
Well, that was not what she was expecting. She'd sensed that there was tension between Jax and his stepdad last weekend the one time that had been brought up, but she hadn't realized it went beyond the normal tensions that might be between a stepdad and his stepson.
"And then," he went on with a rough laugh. "This whole thing is completely fuckin' with my pre-fight routine, so now I gotta worry if I'm gonna be off tomorrow in the ring. I probably will be too, now that I just said that out loud."
"What's your pre-fight routine? Other than no alcohol and no sex the night before a fight?"
At least that got him laughing for real again. And it was good to hear, considering the darkness she'd just heard in his voice.
"Those two things are probably the most important ones," Jax chuckled through the phone, and her lips curved at the sound. "But I dunno, I guess Hap and I got some superstitions about it… always run the same routine and everything will go the same way it always does. Adding Reno into the mix didn't really change things for us - it's just a matter of always doing the same thing, at least as much as you can. So now that we've started coming into town the night before the fight, it's just part of our routine."
"Sure, like baseball players that never change their jockstrap all season if they're on a winning streak, right?"
"We're not that extreme," and she could practically see him smirking at her too, "but we do like things to be a certain way before a fight."
And there was another part of this too, a partially-formed thought that just popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, "You talked to me the night before a fight last Friday too. Am I part of your routine now or something?"
That whole thing came out way flirtier than she'd intended. Her cheeks burned, and so she did the only thing she could - she downed the rest of that godawful, cheap champagne and poured herself another glass.
He still hadn't responded either.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He'd been really talking to her too, and here she went, making it weird and ruining it.
"Maybe," his deep voice sounded a little huskier than it had before. "But maybe I just like talkin' to you, Liv."
Her lips parted, but all she could really do was suck in a breath. She didn't really trust herself to do anything else at this point.
"I like talking to you too, Jax," she murmured.
"Well, good," he was chuckling again now. "'Cuz seein' as how you're the best friend I got, you're kinda stuck with me. I'm just gonna be rollin' into that casino every weekend, ready to hang out and get away from all this shit here."
That wasn't the first time he'd dropped something like that on her without much of an explanation. The first time he'd mentioned Charming, when he'd told her he liked her more than anyone else, when they'd been talking about his stepdad… she heard a bitterness in his voice every single time anything like that came up. Maybe it was no wonder why he didn't want to talk about any of that in the first place and chose to just ask questions about her instead.
"I don't mind the company," she smiled, and as her previous thoughts bounced around in her head, she didn't even have to think about what she said next, "You know, there are plenty of other places we can go tomorrow after your fight than just the casino. I know I have to be at the afterparties now, but after the afterparties, we don't have to stick around if you don't want to. Reno has a lot more going on than just casinos and underground fight leagues, just so you know."
"Hey, I'm down with whatever you are. You lead the way, and I'll follow, Liv."
She didn't want what he'd just said to affect her as much as it did. And she definitely didn't want her heart to twist and flutter and tighten the way it was now. But it was what it was, and she couldn't stop it.
"Good," Liv smiled, chewing on her bottom lip again. "Now, to be fair, we're probably not gonna be able to duck out of the afterparty until after midnight, and the only places that are still open around here at that time are bars and casinos, so I think we'll just have to settle for a bar that's still serving food, if that's okay with you."
"Like I said, Liv, I'm down with whatever you are. I trust ya."
"Well, that's good to know," she laughed. "There's an Irish pub on the main drag that I think you'll like. They've got live music most nights, too."
"A'ight. Sounds like a plan. When do you hit the stage tomorrow?"
"Around noon. Jo and I pushed our schedules up for Saturdays now that we need to be done in the lounge earlier than normal, but we have a rotation with singers and band members, so we're covered that way. We'll probably be off the floor and in the basement around…" she trailed off, trying to give him the best estimate she could. "Nine, maybe? Probably right before the fights start."
Jax got quiet again there, like he was mulling it all over. "A'ight. I probably won't get to see you much before the fight then. By the time I actually get my ass outta bed tomorrow morning and hit the road, I'll be lucky if I get into town by noon anyway. Hap's probably gonna be all amped up and ready to start prepping - especially if last weekend is any indication."
"Oh, you mean his little playdate with Jo on Friday helped him out?"
"Oh, yeah," he huffed out a laugh. "You have no idea. It's been a while since I've seen him so…"
"Tightly wound?"
Jax barked out another laugh at that, and he was still snickering a little when he responded, "Pretty much. And he's usually wound pretty tight anyway, so last weekend he let loose in a way I've never really seen before. I think his little playdates with Jo have really been more of a boon to his fights than anything."
"Got it. Well, they are holed up in his room again right now. She planned ahead and gave me the car keys before she left and everything. I'm not sure if she's gonna spend the night, but I wouldn't be surprised."
"I got a feeling, if I know Hap - he's probably gonna kick her out. Not because he doesn't want her to stay, but because he's probably gonna be even more wound up tomorrow if she doesn't. Less temptation too, I guess, and we both know they're just gonna hook up again tomorrow night anyway."
"Yeah, I think you're right about that. Good for her though. And him too, I guess. But more so, good for her."
"Right," he laughed again. "At least somebody's gettin' laid - might as well be Hap."
He must've sensed her hesitation at that particular comment, even from three hours away, and he jumped to explain.
"Hey, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I didn't mean that I…" he blew out a sigh. "Sorry. But just so we're clear, Liv, I'm not sittin' up here talkin' to you like this when I could be doin' something else, you know?"
"It's okay, Jax. You don't have to explain -"
"No, I think I do. I'm not… I don't have someone waiting for me to come down from the roof. I'm not gonna hang up the phone with you and then go mess around with some girl in the clubhouse. I know you don't really need to know that, but I wanted you to know anyway."
"Okay," she whispered. It was a wonder she had a voice left at all after that. What he was really trying to tell her was there, right between the lines, but maybe it was better they both got this out of the way right now, so neither of them had to wonder. "Then I think it's only fair that you know I'm not gonna hang up the phone and then go mess around with someone here either. I don't really know who I'd mess around with in the first place, but you know what I'm saying."
"Yeah, I do. And thanks for clearing the air, I guess. Now I don't have to wonder if I'm just one in a long line of guys waiting to talk to you every night after your sets like some kinda groupie."
"Right," she laughed. "Like that's ever happened. The only one of us who's got actual groupies is Sam - he's one of our other singers. He likes the constant, revolving-door of women in the lounge, especially the tourists. Then he doesn't have to work that hard, I guess."
But his words were still ringing in her head, and they hit a little too close to home than she liked. Now I don't have to wonder if I'm just one in a long line of guys waiting to talk to you every night…
"But none of this really matters anyway," she added quickly. "We're just friends, right?"
And that's all they could ever be. She hoped she didn't have to tell him that either.
"Right," Jax agreed, although some of the lightness had left his voice now too. "Just friends. Hey, you know, I don't mean to cut off the conversation right here, but I probably should hit the sack now if I wanna even have a prayer of getting on the road at a decent time tomorrow."
"No problem. I should probably eat something anyway and that's kinda hard to do when I'm talking on the phone."
"A'ight," now she could hear him smiling again, "I'll see ya tomorrow then. I'll stop in the lounge and see if I can catch ya when you're on the floor."
She swallowed hard, pushing out a deep sigh. It really was getting late, and he really did need to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow, but none of that changed the fact that she still wanted to stay on the phone with him anyway.
"Sure. That sounds good. And no worries if that doesn't work out. I'll see you after the fight - well, after you win, I mean."
"Right," he chuckled again. "After I win."
Now, nothing but dead air hung between them. It was time to hang up, but neither of them seemed to want to bite the bullet and just do it already.
So she sucked in a breath, and went for it. "Well, have a good night, Jax. I'll see you tomorrow. Drive safe, okay?"
"I will. Night, Liv."
"Night."
Even then, it was still hard to swipe across her screen and end the call, but she did it. The line between friendship and something else would blur pretty quickly between them if she didn't keep them in check. That wasn't enough to make her even consider cutting off whatever this was - friendship, companionship, emotional support - she didn't really know how to define it.
All she knew was that he'd been dropped into her life without any warning, and he'd somehow managed to be exactly what she needed. She wasn't stupid enough to let that go.
Tomorrow was nearly here. And probably this time tomorrow, they'd be walking around downtown Reno, and then she could show him what this town was really like, and then together, they could both just forget their lives for a little while.
That's all she could ask for from him, and that's all she was ever going to ask for too.
A/N - Like anyone was worried Jax would ghost her, right? Lol. And if their conversation at the end here felt kinda like a long-distance couple who are catching up with each other after a long day, that's probably what's actually going on 😉
I think it's safe to say at this point that what Jax and Liv are doing is totally dating (at the very least), but they're both just not in a place right now where they can admit that. They need each other and don't want to lose what they have by complicating it anymore than it already is (you know, not the distance, but all of Jax's issues with the club and the mountain of bratva debt on Liv's shoulders? All of that? Lol!). They'll get a point where they just won't be able to make excuses and deny it anymore, but until that happens Liv is really going to dig her heels in and Jax is going to let her, out of respect and because this version of him is quite the gentleman, which I've really been enjoying writing. For Jax, he's willing to take whatever she's willing to give, and he knows he's not in a place to ask her for more.
On that note, I'm still looking for one or two more beta-readers! If you're interested in getting all the new chapters ahead of time and chatting with me about the characters and the plot, let me know!
I've been posting teasers on Tuesdays on Tumblr, so be sure to check that out (my handle is lovebarefootblonde)!
As always, thank you so much for reading! I've been loving writing this more humble and kind version of Jax, and I'm glad you're loving it too!