Falling Away (Fall Away #3)

My father was a lot of things, but he definitely didn’t make threats he didn’t intend to keep. Something Jared and I inherited.

I shifted my eyes to Juliet, seeing that her smart watch was still on and wondering how much time I had. My father wouldn’t hurt me—not fatally as long as he could use me—but he’d hurt her. In a moment he’d hurt her without any hesitation from his sick, twisted mind.

And this was what I’d wanted her to be a part of? What if I gave her kids and we ended up getting terrorized by him again? Or what if he took her with him today?

He couldn’t be allowed to leave.

Juliet yelped, and I snapped my eyes up, seeing a thin line of blood surface as the knife trailed down her neck.

“Stop!” I yanked at the cuffs, kicking the banister, knowing it wouldn’t break. “Fuck! Leave her alone!”

“Are you ready, then? Huh?” He pulled the knife away and bellowed, “Now do you fucking get it, you worthless little bastard?”

At hearing one of the names he was always fond of calling me, I felt my throat ache with tears and then I exhaled. “Fine,” I gritted out. “Just stop touching her.”

I saw him relax and smile. “There.” He nudged Juliet. “He does love you. Now go sit your ass down, and be a good—”

She slammed him across the face, cutting him off.

Oh, no.

With both fists locked together, she knocked him to the side again, making him stumble, and I watched with fear and awe as she snatched my knife out of his hand and ran for the kitchen.

Fuck.

I started yanking at the cuffs again, but the other guy was on her before she got far. He lunged, pushing her down to the floor as they both fell, and she kicked her legs as he tried to catch hold.

“Help!” she screamed, trying to scurry away. “Help! Someone, help!”

“Come back here,” the other man growled, ripping her shirt as she thrashed.

“Don’t touch her!” I yelled, struggling against my raw wrists, stinging the torn skin even more.

“Stop her!” my father yelled, and grabbed a gun I hadn’t seen out of the back of his pants.

But then I heard the other man cry out, and I snapped my eyes over to see him holding his face, a deep red slash marring his face.

Juliet scampered backward as he stumbled away from her, and I watched her come to her feet, holding my knife out and looking at my father.

And her eyes went wide when she saw the gun to my head.

“You’re killing him,” my father threatened, pressing the nozzle to my temple.

I blinked long and hard, a dozen different scenarios of what to do running through my mind. The cuffs cut into my skin and held me too tight. I hated this. I fucking hated this!

“How can you do this?” Juliet shook her head. “He’s your son.”

“That’s right,” my father shot back. “He is. He’s my son.” And then he looked down to me, baring his smoke-stained teeth with every word. “Your mother didn’t want you, so who took care of you? Huh? Who cleaned up your mess in the basement? I built you. I’m all you’ve got, Jax.”

No. I had a family. Jared, Katherine, Madoc. Juliet. I had a family.

“Get away from him.” I heard Juliet’s voice as I held my father’s eyes.

“You know it’s true,” he pressed, looking at me calmer now. “She’ll leave. All bitches do. You won’t be good enough. You won’t make enough money. She’ll find something wrong with you or another guy.”

No. She loves me.

“And Jared resents you,” my father continued, “because you’re smarter. You’re stronger. He’ll always put himself first when you need him most.”

I dropped my eyes, feeling the vein pulse in my neck.

“Jax, look at me!” Juliet urged.

“And Katherine?” he jumped in, laughter coating his tone. “That cunt barely stayed sober enough for her own son. You don’t mean a thing to any of these people,” he said, sneering. “They have no connection to you. You’ll be the first thing they all dump when life gets too hard. You’re the only one that doesn’t belong!”

“Shut up!” Juliet screamed. “Jax! Look at me!”

I shook my head, wanting him gone. Wanting them all gone.

I was good enough. And no matter who left, who forgot about me, or who looked down on me, I wasn’t the little shit kid, lonely and crying in my room, anymore.

But then I blinked, coming out of my thoughts. We all straightened, hearing the screech of hot tires skidding to a halt outside.

A flood of headlights shone through the porch windows, washing over us, and I looked over at Juliet and jerked my head to the back door, telling her to get out of here.

But she squared her shoulders, defiant.

My father was fucking desperate, and everyone knew what was outside.

And what was coming. I looked at her, pleading.

I heard more tires, recognizing Tate’s and Madoc’s engines as if they were my own.

My father shifted, and I quickly glanced at the other man, hunched over next to the couch, still holding his face.

Footsteps pounded on the porch, and my father pressed the gun into my temple as Jared kicked through the door, taking in the sight of me on the floor.

“Get away from him!” he thundered at our father.

And he and Madoc charged in, rushing him and not giving anyone time to think or assess.

My father raised the gun. Shit!