Chapter Six
Jax
I stand on the balcony outside Jessa's door, eyeing her brother. He looks like shit. His head is bowed, his shoulders slumped. He looks worse than I did when I found out about Concord. I'm not sure what happened between him and Gwen tonight, but I'm guessing it wasn't good.
"I guess you're here to send me home," he mutters, not even turning around to look at me.
"I think that might be best for now, man."
"Yeah." He grips the balcony railing hard. "Fuck!"
I cringe as his curse cracks through the night.
He spins to face me, breathing hard. His eyes are so much like Jessa's. They're piercing blue, able to see right through most people. Cyrus isn't someone who likes to bullshit or beat around the bush. He says what he thinks and that's that. I'm guessing it's that trait that has Gwen bawling right now. Suspicion cuts through the pain in his eyes, tempering it.
Cyrus is dark where Jessa is light. He looks like the man in photos scattered all around their mom's house, tall, dark, imposing. Cyrus doesn't talk much about their father, but I know he joined the Air Force to follow in his footsteps. I know he was a hell of a lot better a man than Charles Concord could ever hope to be. He raised a hell of a son.
I respect the hell out of Cyrus. He became the man of the house at sixteen. He's done his damndest every day since to take care of Jessa and their mom.
"Why are you here?" he asks me.
"Fell asleep," I say, not lying to him.
He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing my expression. "So it's like that," he mutters. He doesn't sound surprised. More…resigned. "Were you planning on telling me that you're sleeping with my sister, or did you plan for her to be your dirty little secret?"
"It's not even like that, Cyrus."
"Sure as fuck looks like it."
"I'm not sleeping with her."
"Tell me you haven't touched her."
I can't tell him that. I think he knows it as well as I do.
"I'm in love with her."
His lips compress into a thin line, his body rigid with tension.
"I've always been in love with her. You can be mad about it. You can hate me for it. That's your prerogative. But I will be marrying your sister," I say, my voice soft. "If you try to get in the way, you and I are going to have problems."
We met while we were in Afghanistan. He was providing air support on a mission to free several Americans who got scooped up by ISIS. We walked right into an ambush. I thought we were going to die that day. And then here comes Cyrus, flying so low over a canyon, I thought he intended to plow his plane into the group and take out everyone, himself included.
He didn't.
His gunner shot us a path right through the enemy. They were too busy ducking and diving to fire back. We made a run for it, managing to get to the village and take cover. Picking off the enemy was easy after that. Cyrus and I have been friends since.
I don't know why he ever decided to give me a chance, but I trust him with my life. I owe him whatever answers he's going to demand. But I won't let him think Jessa is something I'm ashamed of or a secret to be hidden. And I won't allow him to come between us. If that costs me his friendship, I'll accept it.
His scowl darkens, crackling with aggression.
"I would have claimed her long before now, but I couldn't get my head out of my ass," I say, leaning back against the wall behind me. "I wasted a lot of time and hurt her, worrying what you and your mom would think."
"Why are you telling me this?" he growls. "You want me to commiserate? Pity you because we're in the same fucking boat?"
"No. I'm saying it because there are two women behind that door who love you," I say, jerking my head toward Jessa's door. "You've already made one cry tonight. Do you really want to make the other one cry too?"
He flinches, and I know he's hearing me. He might not like what I'm saying, but he's listening.
"Jessa idolizes you," I say, telling him the truth. He's her best friend, the older brother who helped raise her. "You're her hero. If you make her choose between the two of us, it'll crush her. Hate me if it makes you sleep better at night, but don't do that to her."
He stares at me for so long, I'm not sure where his head is at. I know he's pissed. I see the anger banked in his eyes and the way he's clenching his jaw hard enough to crack it. I see the worry there too. In his eyes, no one will ever be good enough for his sister. And he's not wrong. God knows, I'm not good enough for her. She's mine anyway.
"You're wrong," he mutters, running a weary hand down his face. "I'm not her hero anymore. Haven't been since the day she set eyes on you for the first time." He tips his head back, staring up at the roof of the balcony for a long second. He looks tired in a way I've never seen him look before now. Whatever happened between him and Gwen is fucking him up in a major way.
"You knew?"
"You didn't?" He drops his head forward to hit me with a look of disbelief. "She's looked at you with stars in her eyes since she met you." He sighs. "And you've looked at her the same fucking way."
"Can you blame me?"
"I wish I could," he mutters and then rakes a hand through his hair. "But I can't. We're cool, brother. I'm not saying I like the thought of you with Jessa, but I'm not saying I hate it either. I've fucked up enough tonight. I'm not tearing this family apart over something I've known was coming eventually."
I take a small, relieved breath. It's not tacit approval, but at least he's not going for my throat. At least we're on the same page when it comes to protecting Jessa. Anything else…well, there's time to work on that later. For now, I'm taking my wins where I get them.