Chapter Fourteen - Ashes Don’t Lie
1565 Words
The sun had barely crested the edge of the horizon when the Cage compound began to stir with the rhythm of recovery. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mingled with gasoline and dust—life returning to its usual hum.
Jax stood at the top of the stairs overlooking the garage, hands wrapped around a chipped mug, his eyes scanning the yard below. Men moved with purpose, bruised but standing. The club was whole. For now.
He exhaled slowly, tension still clinging to his shoulders even after the night in Taylor’s arms.
“You’re up early,” came a voice behind him.
He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Kellan. The new second had a way of reading the room without saying much—a trait Ghost once mastered.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jax muttered.
Kellan stepped beside him, sipping from his own mug, looking out over the yard. “I get it. You got what you came for last night. But the edge doesn’t always leave with the danger.”
Jax nodded, jaw tight. “Denny won’t be a problem anymore.”
“Still left a mess in his wake. We’ll need to keep eyes out, patch up the local heat. You good with me handling the back-end cleanup?”
Jax looked at him then—really looked. Steady. Capable. Loyal. Ghost would’ve liked him.
“Yeah. Handle it.”
Kellan nodded once and turned to go, leaving Jax with the quiet again. He stayed like that for a while, letting the weight settle.
Eventually, he made his way back inside. Taylor was seated on the couch, bare legs tucked beneath her, wearing one of his shirts and reading over a set of faded pages from Ghost’s journal they had found in the storage boxes.
She looked up as he entered, soft eyes searching his.
“You okay?” she asked gently.
He walked over, crouching down in front of her. “I will be. This place, this club… they’re steadying again. So am I.”
Taylor ran her fingers through his hair, grounding him.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore, Jax.”
“I know,” he said, resting his forehead against her leg. “But I’ve been doing it so long, I forget how to let go.”
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Then I’ll remind you. Every damn day, if I have to.”
Jax lifted his head slowly, his gaze locking with hers. “Can I ask you something?”
Taylor gave a small smile. “You? Asking instead of just deciding? Must be serious.”
He huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t look away. “What do you want, Tay? For the future.”
She blinked, the softness in her expression slowly giving way to thought. He could see the flicker of something uncertain in her eyes—grief still etched in the corners—but the woman she was now… she was strong. Standing on her own, even when she leaned on him.
“You mean in general?” she asked.
“I mean everything. Us. The club. This life.”
Taylor pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, still watching him. “I want a life that doesn’t feel like I’m surviving it. I want to build something that lasts. I want to wake up every day and know where I stand.”
Jax nodded slowly. “I want that too.”
She tilted her head. “You already built this world, Jax. You’re the president of a club that keeps the town in check and your people fed. What else do you want?”
Jax took her hands in his. He didn’t stumble on the words—not this time.
“I want you,” he said, voice low. “Not in fragments. I want a future that isn’t haunted. I want a family. A real one. I want you with me at the house Ghost and I rebuilt, kids running around the yard, Sunday dinners, scars and all. And I want to make sure the club survives long enough to protect it all.”
Taylor stared at him like he’d opened a door she didn’t know existed. Her grip tightened in his.
“You want kids?”
He nodded once. “I want them with you.”
Silence stretched between them like a held breath. But it wasn’t tension—it was heavy with meaning. Real. Tangible.
Taylor finally leaned forward and kissed him—slow, sure.
“You build the future,” she whispered against his lips. “I’ll be there. Every step. But I want to raise them to know who Elias was too.”
Jax closed his eyes at the sound of his name. Ghost.
“They’ll know,” he said. “I promise.”
He pulled her against his chest, breathing her in. For the first time since Ghost’s funeral, he could see a future.
One with scars. But full of life.
And he would fight for every inch of it.
The hum of the compound settled around them like a distant storm—muffled voices, laughter from the rec room, the occasional metallic clang from the garage. But inside Jax’s office, it was quiet.
Jax stood by the window, a half-empty glass in one hand, his other resting on the sill as he looked out at the yard. He hadn’t turned when Kellan walked in, but he didn’t need to. He’d called him there for a reason.
Kellan waited, patient as always, leaning against the doorway until Jax finally spoke.
“She’s back,” Jax said. “For good this time.”
Kellan nodded once. “Saw that.”
Jax turned, setting the glass down on the edge of his desk. “It changes things. For me. For the future.”
“Yeah,” Kellan said. “Figured as much. Doesn’t change how we handle the club though. You’re still president. I’m still here.”
“I know.” Jax paused, watching him carefully. “You okay with that?”
Kellan’s eyes lifted. “You asking if I’m okay standing in Ghost’s place?”
“No one’s ever going to fill his place,” Jax said, voice low but firm. “That’s not what I want from you. I don’t need a shadow. I need someone who knows when to speak up, when to shut up, and when to step the f**k in. That sound like something you can keep doing?”
Kellan cracked the smallest smile. “That’s a long-winded way of saying you trust me.”
Jax gave him a half-shrug. “Maybe.”
“I’m here, Jax. Every step. You call it, I follow through.”
Jax finally moved from the window, lowering himself into the chair behind his desk. He leaned back, arms resting on the edges like he was carrying the weight of the future already.
“Things are gonna shift. I want expansion. Cleaner money. New safe houses. I want our footprint to mean something—not just fear, but stability. For the people under this roof.”
Kellan nodded again. “You thinking long term?”
“I’m thinking legacy.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Kellan stepped forward, dropped into the chair opposite him, and folded his hands.
“Then let’s start laying the bricks. Brick by damn brick.”
Jax smirked, the fire in his chest not as sharp now. Ghost was gone. Taylor was home. And Kellan—
Kellan was the brother who showed up when the world was coming apart.
He could work with that.
He would build everything on that.
Later that night, Jax sat alone in the garage, tools untouched beside the bike he didn’t need to fix.
The house he grew up in — the one he rebuilt with Elias — was lit up in his mind. Every corner. Every wall. Every memory.
It had been their quiet hideout. The only place Taylor ever felt like she could breathe when things got too loud. And now it would be more.
That house would be hers. Theirs.
Not just a retreat — a home. A sanctuary.
He pulled out his phone, opening the secure blueprint files Mason had compiled for potential expansions. He tapped through them until he found the right sketch — perimeter upgrades, reinforced security, updated surveillance systems. He added notes. Marked spots where panic buttons would go. Quiet panic buttons only Taylor and he would know about. Because if the past had taught him anything, it was that love didn’t survive when you left it vulnerable.
The compound had always been business. Chaos. Brotherhood. War.
The house — that house — would be something else.
A future.
That was where he’d see Taylor barefoot on hardwood floors, chasing after a kid with her laugh echoing down the hallway. That’s where he’d drink his coffee with her curled against him on the porch. That’s where his next chapter would begin — away from the bloodstained loyalty of the life he ran.
Jax saved the updated plans. Leaned back against the wall.
Soon.
He’d finish this next phase with the club. Lock down the risks. And then he’d move her there.
And the world wouldn’t get to touch her again.
Only him.
Only them.
- Writer
