Bounty:Fury Riders MC(71)

"I'm fine out here. Don't start thinking about this nice girl's  reputation now. You've already fucked her life up enough, man. It's too  late." He looks at me again. "Did he tell you they matched the bullet  they found in my sister's body?"

"What?" I'd only read they'd found no weapon. I glance at Jax.

"Oh, yeah. They didn't find the actual gun, but they know the sort of  weapon it came from. A Glock 19. Guess who carries a Glock 19? Or at  least he used to, before he killed my sister with it."

I look at Jax again, my eyes searching his. This can't be true. The look on his face tells me it is.

"Did I forget to tell you the best part?"

"Best part?"

"Okay, bad choice of words, maybe. My sister didn't die in just any woods. She died in the woods behind Jax's house."

All the air leaves my lungs in one big whooshing noise, as though I've  been punched in the stomach. All I can do is stare at Jax. The last bit  of the story has finally been revealed, and there's nothing he can do  about it. He's been taken apart by this sad, drunk man on my lawn.

"No. You didn't know that, did you? I'm not surprised." He turns to Jax.  "I hope you haven't done too much damage to this poor girl already. I'm  sure she doesn't deserve it. Just like Marissa didn't."

"Adam, you need to leave. You're drunk. You don't know what you're  saying." Jax places his hand on Adam's arm, only to have the arm yanked  away as though his touch burned.

"Don't ever touch me again. Not if you wanna live another day." The  tension could be cut with a knife. They stand there, staring at each  other.

"Is this true, Jax? Is it all true?"

He breaks the staring contest he's having with Adam, looking over at me. He won't say a word.

"Please. Jax. Please, I know it's not true. Or if what he's saying is  true there's a good explanation. Why don't you just tell him the whole  story? I believe in you."

"Oh, this has to be a joke!" Adam laughs at me. "You're worse than I  thought. Like one of those women who writes to convicts because you feel  sorry for them. Will you have a jailhouse wedding with him, too? Once  he's thrown inside a cell for everything he's done?"

I ignore him. "Jax, all you have to do is tell the truth. I don't see why you won't explain all of this."

"I shouldn't have to." Stubborn, pigheaded brat.

"Not for me. For yourself. For him." I nod my head in Adam's direction. "Give him a little peace, at least."

"I shouldn't have to do that either. I've told him I had nothing to do  with it, same as I told you. That's not good enough for him. I'm  starting to wonder if it's not good enough for you either."

"Don't say that. Stop assuming I think the worst of you."

"Oh, forget this shit." Adam throws his hands into the air. "I didn't  come here to watch some bullshit domestic drama." He turns toward his  bike, climbing on. Before he pulls away, he looks at me once more.

"What did you come here for, then, man? To make things even worse?" Jax follows Adam to the bike, trying to confront him.

"Jax, don't. Please. Let him go." I'm desperate for him to leave now. I've heard enough.

"I hope you get your head screwed on straight. Before it's too late."  Adam pulls away, revving his engine before speeding out of sight.

It's just Jax and me again. The silence between us is deafening. I'm at a  loss, torn between embarrassment for him and confusion.

"Jax." I walk toward him, starting down the short flight of stairs leading to the lawn.

"Don't. Just don't." He stalks away toward his bike without another  word. I can only watch helplessly as he backs out of the driveway, then  pulls down the street.

Now I'm alone. Again. I look around, wondering how many pairs of eyes  are watching from behind closed doors and pulled curtains. They sure got  an eyeful out here, didn't they?

I also remember Tommy. For a minute there I'd forgotten all about him. I  guess I can thank Adam for that much. I wonder if he's here somewhere.  Am I becoming completely paranoid?

No matter what the answer, I turn to head back into the house. Only  after the door is locked behind me do I give myself the luxury of trying  to think things over.         

     



 

It's useless, however. I can't make sense of the jumbled mess in my  head. All I know is I'm terrified-only now it's not Tommy I'm afraid of.

It's the idea of losing Jax forever.





Chapter 25

I sit down in front of my open laptop again, doing another search. This  time, I'm looking for any available information on Marissa Fairbanks.  Who was she? What sort of things was she into? Was she wrapped up in the  club, or just an outsider?

I remember the tattoo I saw on Adam's chest, just like the one on Jax's.  He's a member of the club, too-or at the very least, he was at one  time. Odds are she had something to do with the club, too, outside of  being married to Jax. Maybe it ran in the family. Maybe her father was a  member, or an uncle. Or maybe she got involved with the guys in the  club after her brother joined.

Maybe she was never involved at all. Just an innocent party. Like me.

I can't think about that now.

There's not much on Marissa, or her murder. I was sure there would be a  million articles about it, especially seeing as how the town hates the  club. From what I'd already read, one of the guys could sneeze and it  would make the news. I was certain I'd find all sorts of salacious  details on the murder of the wife of a club member-a prominent one, if  what Adam said was true.

Marissa is a mystery, it seems. I think about the way she decorated the  house in which Jax still lives. She was a simple, sweet person, I think.  Not fancy. Homey, cozy. She wanted to create a refuge for her man. I  can understand the impulse, having had it myself. Why else would I have  been driven to bake cookies for Jax when I hardly knew him?

She didn't deserve to die the way she did, alone in the woods, left  there to rot, going by the way Adam had described. I remember the pain  in his voice when he talked about her. Now that I've met him, I get the  idea he only let himself go after she died. He's drinking himself into  an early grave.

I understand what pain like that can do to a person. He's desperate for  an answer to how his sister's life ended. He wants to pin the crime on  any convenient person. Jax is just the most convenient.

It doesn't help the bullet matched the gun he carried. I can understand why Adam would jump to conclusions when that's the case.

I can't believe it, though. I won't believe it. Jax is innocent.

No, he's not. He's not innocent. Maybe of his wife's murder. But not of other things.

I accept that. A person can make mistakes. They can also move on from them. They deserve the chance to.

I have to talk this out with somebody. If I hang around the house like  this, I'll go crazy. Just going over and over it in my head until I lose  it. I'm still nervous about leaving the house, but I need to take the  chance.

Minutes later, I'm at the coffee shop. It's lunchtime as a handful of  employees of the little shops up and down Main Street coming in for a  cup of coffee or dessert on their break. I walk in, saying hi to  everyone.

"I thought you were sick!" Amy's behind the counter, busy as a bee. I  notice her voice sounds higher-pitched than usual. Unnatural.

Shit. Everybody knows Jax was at my house, and I conveniently happened  to call out sick. I'm sure people have been jumping to conclusions all  morning. How much whispering has been going on right here in my own  shop?

"I'm feeling better, so I thought I'd come in for a while. You know how  it is, you wake up feeling lousy, but once you get moving, it's not so  bad anymore." I wash my hands and tie on an apron, diving in alongside  my friend as though there's nothing out of the ordinary. Anything to  take my mind off the mess for a while. If Tommy's out there somewhere,  he wouldn't dare try something now. Not while I'm surrounded by people.  Would he?

Once things quiet down, I lean against the counter, facing Amy. "I have to ask you something."

"Sure. What's up?" I take her by the elbow, leading her to a quiet corner where I can still keep an eye on things in the shop.

"Do you know anything else about the murder of Jax's wife? You know, something you heard people gossiping about, maybe?"

"What happened? Why are you asking me this?"

I wonder if I can trust her. I love her and she's become my closest  friend even though she started out as an employee. But she's a talker,  very social and bubbly. No, I need to trust my gut. At the end of the  day, she's also reliable.

"I know I can trust you. I have to tell you what happened earlier  today." I give her the brief rundown, explaining what went on with Adam.  I've been glancing over at the customers every once in a while as I  speak, and I can't miss their eyes on me. I remember now what Adam said,  about people talking when Jax's motorcycle was seen outside my house.  Are they whispering about me now?

"Wow, Chris. I can't believe it."

I nod my head. "I wanted to see if there was anything else online about  Marissa's murder, but there's nothing. I mean not a single thing! Don't  you think that's odd?"