Ride me Down

Chapter Seven – Fallout

The SUV was parked under a flickering streetlamp on the edge of the lot, far enough from the action to be “safe,” but close enough for Taylor to feel every beat of adrenaline still vibrating in her chest. She sat in the back, angled slightly toward the window, her eyes straining to catch movement through the windshield.

Mason was in the passenger seat, arms crossed, face unreadable—like he wasn’t silently calculating every threat within a five-mile radius. Two other guys she didn’t know stood outside, one leaning casually against the hood, the other pacing slowly with a hand on his belt like this was just another routine Tuesday night.

Beside her, Dani sat relaxed—too relaxed, like this was nothing more than a tailgate party.

Taylor’s voice was low. “What’s happening?”

Dani didn’t look away from the windshield. “Ghost’s talking to Caine now. Or... threatening him. Hard to tell the difference when he’s smiling.”

Taylor pressed closer to the glass, her heart skipping when she caught the vague shape of Caine, still on his knees, his face bloodied under the harsh spotlight. “And Jax?”

“He’s watching. Letting Ghost do the dirty work. That’s his move—hang back, assess, step in when the knife needs to twist.”

Taylor swallowed hard. “So this is just... normal?”

Dani’s gaze flicked sideways. “For them? Yeah.”

Taylor blinked. “And for you?”

A pause. Then Dani smirked faintly. “Let’s just say I like to stay on the right side of that line.”

She turned forward again. “Ah. There it is.”

Taylor followed her gaze and caught the shift—Jax stepping forward, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable but his presence loud as ever. Caine said something Taylor couldn’t hear. Jax didn’t react.

Then he turned and started walking toward them.

Taylor’s heart jumped to her throat.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t bark orders. Just moved like a man who didn’t have to prove anything—because everyone in that lot already knew who was in charge.

He reached the SUV, yanked the driver’s side door open, and slid into the seat without saying a word.

Mason handed him a clean rag.

Jax wiped his hands.

Then, finally, he spoke—his voice low, calm, but sharp enough to slice the air.

“Delgado’s out of the picture.”

Taylor held her breath.

But before she could ask what that meant, Jax met her gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Now we deal with whoever sent him.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes, arms crossed tight across her chest. “You mean Blake?”

Jax didn’t flinch. He flicked a glance at her in the rearview mirror, his tone even but sharp enough to draw blood. “Blake didn’t panic. He planned. He used your name, your money, and then tossed you to Caine like you were collateral.”

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

“He didn’t just screw up, darling,” Jax added, voice low. “He sold you out.”

The words settled like stone in her stomach.

It wasn’t even shock she felt—it was something uglier. Confirmation. Of the things she’d already known but hadn’t wanted to face.

She’d known Blake was a liar. She just hadn’t wanted to admit how far he’d fallen. How easy it had been for him to put her in danger to save himself.

And the worst part?

She didn’t feel sorry for him.

Not even a little.

“If you’re going to scare him,” she said, her voice quieter now, “make it count. I don’t want him crawling back again with another fake apology and a dozen excuses.”

Jax’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “He won’t.”

Something about the way he said it made her believe him.

Not because he was offering her comfort.

But because he didn’t do comfort.

He did consequences.

She stared out the window, the silence in the SUV settling thick between them. The lights of the city started to fade behind them, swallowed by the darkness of the open road.

A chill ran through her—one she didn’t want to admit might be relief.

It was almost over.

Almost.

But in her gut, she knew it wasn’t Blake she was worried about anymore.

It was what came after.

When she couldn’t pretend this was just a detour anymore.

When she had to decide what to do about the man driving the car.

Taylor had been too deep in her own head to notice the energy shift at first—until Dani spoke.

Her voice was quiet, almost cautious, which immediately set Taylor on edge. Dani rarely said anything when Jax was around, and definitely not like this.

“Caine didn’t look scared,” Dani murmured. “He looked... amused.”

Taylor blinked, startled, her gaze snapping toward the front seat.

Jax’s posture didn’t change, but the air around him did. Darker. Tighter.

“He said something to you,” Dani added, sharper now. “What was it?”

Taylor leaned forward slightly, curiosity climbing up her spine. “He did?” she asked, watching Jax carefully.

He didn’t answer right away.

Didn’t even look back.

Which, of course, only made it worse.

“Jax,” Taylor pressed, her voice softer now, but firm. “What did he say?”

Jax exhaled slowly through his nose. “He said he’s done chasing the debt. Blake can rot for all he cares.”

That should’ve made her feel better.

But it didn’t.

Because of the way Jax’s jaw clenched around the rest of it.

“What else?” she asked.

Silence.

Then, finally, Jax’s voice—tight and low: “He said he’s not done with you.”

Taylor froze.

“What does that even mean?”

Jax gripped the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him in the seat. “He said now that he’s had a taste of you... he’s not ready to let that go. Not when someone like me clearly isn’t willing to claim it.”

Heat rushed to her face, a mix of anger, fear, and something else she didn’t want to name.

“He wants me?” she said slowly, like she was still processing it. “As in... romantically?”

“Obsession’s not romance, Taylor,” Jax said darkly.

Dani let out a low whistle, “That man’s got a death wish.”

Taylor sank back into her seat, her pulse kicking up again—not from fear this time, but frustration.

Because now the danger wasn’t just external.

Now it was personal.

And no matter how many walls she put up, the look in Jax’s eyes when he repeated Caine’s words told her one thing for sure:

This wasn’t just about keeping her safe anymore.

This was about keeping her his.

The SUV rolled through the gate, the metal rattling shut behind them like a lock clicking into place. Home, for now.

Taylor stared out the window, heart still running too fast. Caine’s words echoed in her head, but it was Jax’s silence that unsettled her more. He hadn’t said another word since that bomb dropped.

When the car came to a full stop outside the main house, she reached for the handle.

“Wait,” Jax said, low and sharp.

She froze.

Then he cut the engine, opened his door, and barked, “Dani. Mason. Inside. Now.”

Neither of them argued. Not even a sideways glance. They were gone in seconds, the car doors slamming shut behind them.

And then it was just her and Jax.

He didn’t look at her immediately.

He stared through the windshield for a second longer, as if trying to wrestle something back under control.

Taylor sat back, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between them—and how charged it felt.

She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to isolate me like I’m some glass doll. I can handle hearing the truth.”

He finally turned, and his eyes met hers with a weight that made her breath catch.

“This isn’t just about the truth anymore, Taylor,” he said, voice low, firm. “It’s about the game changing.”

She said nothing, but her eyes narrowed slightly, demanding more.

Jax leaned closer, resting his forearms on the wheel. “Caine’s not interested in killing you. He’s interested in owning you. That kind of obsession? It doesn’t go away. It festers. It turns into something darker.”

Her stomach twisted, but she held his gaze. “So what—you want to lock me in the house now? Treat me like a hostage?”

“No,” he said, voice calm, but edged in steel. “I want you to understand that from here on out, this isn’t just about keeping you alive. It’s about keeping you out of his reach.”

Taylor scoffed, heat rising in her chest. “You mean, out of everyone’s reach. Including yours.”

Jax’s jaw flexed.

And then, quietly, without flinching: “Maybe.”

The silence crackled.

She hated how part of her didn’t want to argue with that.

Didn’t want him to pull away.

Didn’t want the strange, magnetic pull between them to stop—even now, when everything felt like it was spiraling deeper into chaos.

“Taylor,” he said, his voice softer now, but laced with warning, “you don’t get it yet. The moment Caine saw you, you stopped being background noise. And the moment he touched you...”

He trailed off, eyes dark.

“You became a war.”

She stiffened at his words.

The air between them turned sharp, bitter on her tongue.

You became a war.

She wasn’t sure what part hit harder—the weight of the obsession Jax was warning her about or the subtle shift in tone that made it feel like she’d somehow caused it.

Her temper snapped.

“Oh, come on,” she snapped, eyes narrowing as she faced him fully. “You’re really gonna sit there and say that like this is my doing?”

Jax didn’t respond, but his jaw clenched. That unreadable mask stayed fixed in place, which only fueled her anger more.

“You knew this was a risk. You knew exactly how he’d react. Hell, you were counting on it.”

Her voice rose, heat flaring in her chest. “Because apparently I’m exactly his type. And what a coincidence—your type, too.”

Jax’s fingers flexed on the wheel, but he still didn’t speak. He watched her now—dark eyes steady, like he was trying to absorb the storm without getting pulled into it.

Taylor wasn’t done.

“This wasn’t some accident. This whole mess—me playing bait, wearing a dress so I could make that man want me—it was your plan.”

Her voice trembled on the edge of fury and something else. Hurt.

“And now it blew up in our faces,” she said quietly, “and it’s not just personal for me anymore. Is it?”

She held his gaze, fire and defiance burning bright in hers.

“It’s personal for you too.”

Finally, Jax turned to her—slowly, deliberately—and the silence cracked under the weight of whatever he was holding back.

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t offer some clipped explanation or try to put the blame somewhere else.

Instead, his voice came out low. Barely more than a breath.

“It was personal the second I saw you in that bar.”

Taylor blinked.

Her anger paused—shocked by the honesty.

“And it’s not going to stop being personal now.”

His eyes locked on hers, dark and raw in a way that left no room for doubt.

“I will end anyone who thinks they can touch what’s mine.”

Taylor let the words hang in the air.

Touch what’s mine.

It echoed in her chest like a dare.

She stared at him, heart pounding, heat crawling up her neck—not from attraction this time, but from pure defiance.

“You don’t get to say that,” she said, voice low and tight. “I’m not yours, Jax.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t interrupt. She saw the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes, but she didn’t stop.

“You don’t get to claim me because we shared one night together—one drunken night, by the way.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You didn’t want strings. You made that clear from the start. And I didn’t ask for this—any of this.”

She pointed between them like it was something she could push away.

“I didn’t ask for Caine. I didn’t ask to be used as bait. And I sure as hell didn’t ask to be someone you throw in the back of your SUV and claim as yours just because it fits your agenda now.”

Jax’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

“Protecting me is one thing,” she continued. “But don’t confuse that with ownership. Because I’m not one of your men. I’m not one of your bikes. I’m not your problem—or your prize.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

She hated that her heart was still racing.

Hated that a small part of her wanted him to argue, to tell her she was wrong.

But he didn’t.

He just stared at her like she was pulling something out of him he wasn’t ready to show.

And then, finally, his voice cut through the quiet.

“You think I’m trying to own you,” he said, slow and measured. “But I’m trying to protect you... the only way I know how.”

He leaned closer, eyes never leaving hers.

“And if I didn’t care—if it really wasn’t personal—I wouldn’t give a damn if Caine wanted you. But I do.”

He let that sit for a beat.

“I do give a damn, Taylor. That’s the problem.”

Her heart thundered so loud she swore the whole damn car could hear it. His words weren’t sweet, they weren’t wrapped in some grand romantic gesture—they were raw, rough-edged, real.

And they landed like a gut punch.

He wasn’t playing games.

She could see it in the way his jaw flexed like he was biting back more than he should say. In the way his body was still but charged, like if she moved just a little closer, he’d crack wide open.

Taylor just stared at him, lips parted, breath shallow. Every instinct told her to run—to shield herself, throw up the walls, keep the upper hand—but she couldn’t move.

Not yet.

“I’m not getting back to my old life,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Am I?”

It wasn’t even a question anymore.

Just truth settling into her bones.

“No,” Jax said, steady as stone. “You’re not.”

She looked away, blinked hard. The version of her that wore glittery heels and worried about social media engagement felt like a ghost now. She was still that girl—but the world around her had changed. She had changed.

Jax leaned a little closer, voice rough with something that sounded dangerously close to regret.

“But you’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Because if she did, she might break.

She met his eyes, the weight of everything he just said crashing into her chest. For a second, just a second, she was dangerously close to giving in. Letting him win. Letting him have her—right there in the back of the car.

But she wasn’t that easy. Not for him.

So instead, she pulled in a sharp breath, reached for the handle, and slipped out of the SUV without a word. Her heels clicked across the gravel as she made her way to the house, putting space between herself and Jax before she did something reckless.

Something she couldn’t take back.

What she didn’t expect, though, was to walk straight into chaos.

The music hit her first—low bass thumping from inside the compound. Then the laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the kind of rowdy energy that came from a bunch of men who’d just tasted victory and wanted the whole world to know it.

Apparently, while she’d been unraveling in the backseat of Jax’s car, the club decided to throw a damn party.

Of course they did.

And without warning, Taylor was right in the middle of it.