Chapter 9
407 Words
The gravel crunched as Leo lunged again, but Jax didn’t retreat. He stepped into the boy's space, catching Leo’s forearm and twisting it with a clinical, bone-deep pressure that elicited a strangled cry. The other two boys hesitated, their "untamed" energy wavering against the reality of Jax’s practiced violence.
"Is that the best the second string has to offer?" Jax asked, his voice a razor-blade whisper. He didn't even look at Leo; his eyes were fixed on the two boys still standing by the SUV. "Because if you’re going to come for me, you better make sure I don't get back up."
Caroline stormed out of the Bentley, the cold mountain air hitting her like a slap as cross her face. She saw the way Jax’s shadow stretched long and jagged across the concrete. He wasn't just defending himself; he was tearing them down.
"Leo, stop!" Caroline cried, her voice echoing off the canyon walls. She didn't look at Jax—she looked at Leo, seeing the genuine pain and protectiveness he felt for Carl. "He’s not worth the expulsion, Leo. Look at him! He wants you to swing again. He wants the excuse to ruin you."
Jax’s jaw tightened. "Caroline, I told you to stay in the car."
"No," she snapped, stepping between the high beams and the brewing wreckage. "You’re proving him right, Jax. You’re proving you’re exactly what they say you are. A predator in a tailored suit."
The insult hit harder than Leo’s fist ever could. Jax’s grip on Leo’s arm slackened just enough for the linebacker to wrench himself away. The tension remained, thick and suffocating, but the "mask" was back—the cold, impenetrable chill of the Highlands' golden boy.
"We're leaving," Jax said, not to the boys, but to the night itself. He didn't look back to see if they followed. He rounded the Bentley and slid into the driver's seat, the engine loud enough to raise the dead to life, before Caroline had even buckled her seatbelt.
As they sped away, leaving the SUV’s lights fading in the rearview mirror, the silence in the car was heavy with the scent of leather. Caroline looked down at her notebook, her fingers trembling. She had seen the c***k in the armor, the moment he cared more about her gaze than the fight—and that made him more dangerous than ever.
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