Chapter 6
1287 Words
Jax
Layla’s words stuck with me long after she went back inside.
“I learned from the best.”
Didn’t feel like a compliment. Felt more like a reminder of everything I ruined.
The desert wind kicked up dust around my boots. The sun was climbing fast, mean and bright. I should’ve been thinking about our next move, about Viper, about the club—but all I could think about was her.
Layla Evans. The one person I swore I’d never see again. And somehow, she was standing right here in the middle of my war.
I went back inside a few minutes later. She was sitting on the couch again, staring at the floor. The blanket from last night was still wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was messy, her face pale. She looked tired, but there was fire behind her eyes. Always was.
“You hungry?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She looked up, frowning. “You gonna feed me or fight me?”
“Depends which one keeps you quiet longer.”
That got the smallest smile out of her. Just for a second. Then she looked away again. “You’re an ass, Jax.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m an ass who keeps you alive.”
I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of sandwiches Grizz had left behind. They were stale, but food was food. I tossed one her way. She caught it like she wanted to throw it back but didn’t.
We ate in silence again. Just like last night. Same air, same tension, same unspoken mess between us.
When she finished, she stood and started pacing. “You still haven’t told me what the plan is.”
“There is no plan yet,” I said. “Not until I know what Viper’s next move is.”
She crossed her arms. “So we’re just sitting here? Hiding?”
“For now, yeah.”
Her jaw tightened. “You really think he’s gonna stop looking? You think he’s just gonna give up because we’re out in the desert?”
“No,” I said. “I think he’s gonna come harder. That’s why we’re gonna hit first.”
That got her attention. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I said, grabbing my jacket, “we find out where he’s hiding and end this before he ends us.”
“You can’t just kill him.”
“I’ve done worse.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” she said, voice sharp. “You don’t even see how far you’ve fallen.”
That stung more than I expected. I tried not to show it, but it hit deep. I used to be proud once—clean, sharp, loyal. Then life happened. Then Frank Evans happened. Then everything burned.
“I do see it,” I said finally. “I just don’t care anymore.”
She shook her head, whispering, “You should.”
Later that day, I stepped outside to call Grizz. The signal out here was bad, so I had to climb a small ridge behind the warehouse to get a few bars. The sun beat down hard, heat crawling up the back of my neck.
“Talk to me,” I said when Grizz answered.
“We got eyes on two of Viper’s guys near the old truck stop,” he said. “Looks like they’re watching the highway. Probably waiting for you to move.”
“Any word on Tyler?”
Grizz hesitated. “Not good. One of our prospects found his bike dumped near the canyon. No sign of him.”
I swore under my breath. Tyler might’ve been a pain in my ass, but he was still one of mine. And if Viper got him…
“I’ll handle it,” I said. “Keep everyone low. No hero moves.”
“Copy that. You gonna tell Layla?”
“No. She’s got enough to deal with.”
Grizz grunted. “Boss… she’s not a kid anymore. She can handle truth better than lies.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “But she’s had enough truth for one lifetime.”
When I hung up, I stood there a long time, staring out at the horizon. The desert looked calm from up here—like nothing bad could happen in a place so empty. But that was the trick of it. The danger always hid under the quiet.
Just like me.
When I went back inside, Layla was gone.
For a second, my heart stopped. I checked the couch, the bathroom, the back storage room. Nothing. The front door was cracked open, the wind blowing sand inside.
I ran out fast.
“Layla!” I shouted, scanning the dunes. “Layla!”
No answer.
I jumped on the bike and tore off down the trail. The engine roared loud enough to shake my bones. A mile down, I spotted footprints cutting toward the rocks. Small, fast steps. Hers.
Damn it.
She was heading toward the canyon.
I killed the engine and ran the rest of the way. The heat hit like fire. My boots slid on loose sand. Finally, I saw her—standing near the edge, arms crossed, staring down into the drop below.
“Layla!” I yelled again.
She turned, startled. “You followed me?”
“You really thought I wouldn’t?”
“I needed space,” she said, voice tight. “Just air. I’m not running.”
I stopped a few feet away, catching my breath. “Next time you want air, open a damn window.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t get to talk to me like I’m one of your guys.”
“You’re right,” I said. “They listen better.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping closer. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
She glared at me, but then her eyes softened. “You really think Viper will find us?”
“I don’t think,” I said. “I know.”
She looked back toward the canyon. “Then what happens when he does?”
“I stop him.”
“And if you can’t?”
I met her gaze. “Then I die trying.”
She flinched like the words cut her. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I don’t want you to die, Jax,” she said quietly.
That hit harder than I expected. I didn’t know if she meant it as a friend, a memory, or something else. But hearing it… it did something to me I didn’t like.
I stepped closer until I could see every freckle on her face. “Then don’t give him a reason to use you.”
Her eyes locked on mine. “You really think I’m the reason he’s doing all this?”
“You’re not,” I said. “But you’re the one thing that still gets to me. He knows that.”
“So what? You think if I disappear, it fixes everything?”
“No,” I said softly. “It just keeps you breathing.”
For a second, we just stood there—close, quiet, caught somewhere between anger and something else. Her hair blew across her face. I reached up without thinking and brushed it back. Her breath hitched.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you still care.”
I didn’t answer. Because I did.
Our eyes still locked on each other. Steam rising between us.
- Writer
