Jax (Titan #9)(55)

Jax gnashed his molars. All of the bourbon in the Mayhem suite couldn't have numbed Jax enough to pretend he could ever be a good guy, a man capable of love and caring for another human being ever again. He was a trained animal. A warrior. A machine. He didn't make friends. He didn't do anything but operate well with a team when they were in action. And afterward, all he knew how to do was power down.

This bullshit about Jared teaching him to negotiate and diplomatic relations was all crap because Jax didn't care. He wanted to train, shoot, kill to protect the decency and honor of innocents and civilians. He wanted mission goals and targets, but none of this diplomacy BS.

"No." Jax pivoted, surging forward.

"Freeze, asshole."

Jax sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. Jared had said he wasn't on the goddamn clock. But that was a lie. He was always on the clock, and Jax took his orders like he should as his boss marched around.

"What do I need to know about you and Deacon Lanes?"

"Nothing."

"Spill it now."

Pain crept down Jax's neck from the intensity of his jaw clenching his teeth. "It's personal shit."

Jared gave one curt, not-a-chance headshake. "You don't have personal. You have Titan. Or you have nothing."

His arms straightened, and his fists balled. "What do you want from me?"

"Everything."

Jax scoffed, turning down the hall. Seven was almost halfway down. "I've got nothing to give, so good luck."

"Brother, I own you, and if you don't see what that's worth, you're too dangerous to have on my teams."

Surprise made him spin back. "What? Because I won't tell you some stupid part of my history."

Jared squared to him. "Tell me again that it's history, Jax."

Did he say what had happened to Carrie was stupid? Guilt roared in his ears with his rushing blood. His body hurt. Then he simply went weak. "Guess I need a new job."

"Wrong answer, dickhead. You stubborn, stupid son of a bitch. You are Titan."

He swallowed over the strangling knot in his throat. He was Titan. Loved it, lived it, even if no one saw it or understood that.

"I know you know that too," Boss Man pushed. "Who's Deacon to you?"

"I wasn't supposed to know who he was, but I wasn't supposed to know what she was, either." There was a reason he never told this story. Reliving hell never got any less awful. "You know I was on a SEAL team. But Carrie was CIA. We were…" He lifted his shoulders then ran a hand over his face. "His cover was blown on an op. Not hers. Two men from a cell they'd been watching showed up to confront him. He shot her. Proof she was nothing but an expendable asset and he was whoever he was supposed to be." He braced himself for the memory that haunted him. "I watched her bleed out in the back room of St. Agnes, a church down the street from where we lived."

The silence was uncomfortable. "Never saw you as churchgoing. I'm sorry for—"

"We were just married. Minutes before." Jax cleared his throat. "Deacon didn't turn or look. He drew and shot twice to the side. Got her in the neck and stomach. Took about four minutes for her to bleed out."

Boss Man's face paled.

"I used her veil on the neck wound." Jax licked his bottom lip, chewing it. "Those things have no absorbency. Tried with my jacket and vest around her torso." He rolled both lips into his mouth. "But you know how that goes. Close range, stomach wound. She had no chance."

"They can be hard…"

"Impossible." Jax fought away the memory of red blood at her throat and the dark purple, nearly black, blood spreading from the stomach down. "She couldn't talk, cry. But her eyes were open. Until they weren't."

Jared's hardened face stayed silent, deepening with stress lines from Jax's horrid tale.

"Jax!" Seven called from far down the hall. "Come on."

"How long ago?" Boss Man asked.

"Twelve years. Back when we were both new and green."

Jared's jaw ticked. "Why wasn't it in your file? Family history?"

"The Agency swept it under the rug. No legal record it ever happened, and their sweep team took care of the locals and the scene." He drew a long breath. "The idea that someone can take someone from you, and it's not supposed to change who you are? I don't think that's possible. But that experience made me better in ways. A stronger fighter. Harsher. More prepared for battle."

"Jesus, Jax."

"Nothing I've come across has fazed me since that day. Something came out of it. A hell of a lesson."

Jared stared past his shoulder. "But don't let that one lesson keep you from the sweet, stubborn, over-the-top, brightly colored experience skipping this way. Have a good night, Jax." He paced away but turned. "One more thing."

Seven eased back under his arm, and Jax hung on to her, needing to hold her more than he realized. "What's up?"

"A few years ago, Sugar was abducted by someone I trusted. You've heard the stories. But I read one time that forgiveness can't change the past, only the future. Something to think about."

Forgiving Deacon? Not in this lifetime.

"What are you two chatting about?" Seven asked.