Chapter six: Lines we don't cross
882 Words
Some people lie to protect others. Some lie to protect themselves. And some lie because they know the truth would destroy everything.
Jaxon stared at the message for a full minute before moving.
Ask Eli what really happened to Camille.
His chest felt tight, like someone had gripped his lungs and squeezed. Not because he believed the message—not entirely—but because part of him had already started wondering. Ever since Eli showed up. Ever since the photo. The envelope. The flash drive.
The idea had been growing in the back of his mind like rot.
And now it was blooming.
He grabbed his keys and drove—fast. No hesitation. No time for fear. He needed answers, and Eli was the only one who had them.
When Jaxon pulled up outside the mechanic shop Eli used as his hideout, the lights were on inside. A single bulb buzzed overhead, and the metal shutter was half-closed.
He stepped through the side door and spotted Eli wiping his hands with a rag, grease streaked on his jaw. For a second, Jaxon just stared at him—at the quiet focus in his posture, the tension in his shoulders, the smudge of oil on his temple like a bruise.
“Something you need?” Eli asked, not looking up.
Jaxon tossed his phone on the workbench. “You tell me.”
Eli glanced at the message. Read it. Didn’t flinch.
“You think I killed her?” he said flatly.
“I think I don’t know anything anymore.”
Eli’s jaw tightened. “You think I’ve spent years chasing ghosts just to cover my own guilt?”
“I don’t know,” Jaxon snapped. “But someone clearly does. And they want me to believe it was you.”
Eli finally met his gaze—and his eyes were fire.
“I loved my sister,” he said. “Even when she didn’t love herself. Even when she stayed with that monster because she thought she could fix him. I was seventeen when she died, Jaxon. I didn’t have the money, the power, or the connections to get answers. But I do now.”
Jaxon didn’t move. “Then why did you disappear the night she died?”
Silence.
Eli turned away, hands clenched into fists.
“I saw something I wasn’t supposed to,” he said finally. “And I ran.”
“What did you see?”
Eli looked back over his shoulder, voice low. “Camille’s car was already tampered with before she drove it. But it wasn’t Adrien I saw under the hood.”
“Then who?”
Eli walked across the room, opened a drawer, and tossed Jaxon another photo.
This one was grainy. Surveillance. Black and white.
Jaxon’s blood ran cold.
It was him.
Standing beside Camille’s car. Hood popped. Head down.
Date stamped four hours before the crash.
“That’s not possible,” he whispered.
“You don’t remember it, do you?” Eli said softly.
Jaxon shook his head, knees going weak.
“I was drinking. Camille was nervous. She asked me to double-check something under the hood. I must’ve... I don’t know.”
Eli’s voice broke through the fog. “You didn’t sabotage it, Jaxon. Someone wanted you to think you did.”
“Then who took the photo?”
“I don’t know. But they’ve been watching us both.”
Jaxon leaned against the wall, heart pounding. “So what now?”
“Now,” Eli said, stepping closer, “we stop running.”
There was something unspoken between them. Thick and heavy. Not just grief or guilt—something else. That thread of tension that had been stretching tighter since the moment they’d met again.
“You’re shaking,” Eli murmured.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
Jaxon looked up—and their faces were too close now. Breath between them. Every instinct screamed to move, to deflect, to deny.
But he didn’t.
And when Eli reached up to brush something from Jaxon’s cheek—just a fleck of grease—his hand lingered.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Jaxon whispered.
Eli’s eyes searched his. “You’re not alone in that.”
And before either of them could stop it—before Jaxon could even tell himself no—he closed the space between them.
Their lips brushed.
Once.
Soft.
Testing.
Jaxon jerked back instantly, breathing hard. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Why not?” Eli said, barely a whisper.
“Because I’m not—I don’t—”
“You don’t what, Jaxon?”
He couldn’t answer.
Because everything he’d spent his life claiming—his orientation, his control, his certainty—was falling apart.
Eli stepped back, giving him space.
“I’m not asking you to be anything you’re not,” he said quietly. “But stop lying to yourself. It’s killing you.”
Jaxon didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
The silence said enough.
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Cliffhanger Ending:
Just as Jaxon turned to leave, Eli’s burner phone buzzed.
One new message.
Unknown Number:
He’s not the only one with blood on his hands. Next stop: Adrien’s compound. Midnight. Come alone.
Jaxon froze. “What is it?”
Eli’s eyes narrowed. “A trap.”
- Writer
