Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(48)

Sami wiped her cheek. “Haylee Snyder just died.”





Chapter Sixteen





To love is to purposefully make oneself vulnerable. Sometimes the risk pays off.

—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony




To the left of headquarters, past what used to be a busy street, lay two full blocks of vacant land fronting old business buildings that now stored weapons. Garbage, fragments of glass, and crack pipes had littered the weeds and dirt of the empty property before Jax had ordered it cleaned up to create a cemetery. The first grave had been dug six months ago, and since then, too many to count.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to count.

He’d placed the graveyard across the road from the east side of his headquarters so he could see it every day. So he could keep track of the people he’d failed. Plus, he kept the area extra secure so folks could visit the dead.

When he’d set the time for Haylee’s funeral, just hours after her death, Lynne had asked why he went to the trouble to bury people in the middle of chaos. Her tone had held curiosity, the genuine kind, and no judgment.

His only answer was that the dead deserved a good place to rest.

It was all he had.

Jax kept his hands together, his head up and gaze searching as others bowed their heads.

Wyatt’s deep tone wound through the falling rain, somehow reassuring and hopeful in a prayer for everlasting life.

But the look in his eyes was one of fury. Pure, raw, unadulterated fury.

Jax nodded. Cruz had infected the girl on purpose, which meant he’d killed her on purpose. Soon, Jax would go hunting his old friend.

For now, good-byes took precedence.

Tace, his stance wide, kept point to Wyatt’s left. His fever had broken, but now tremors visibly shook his arms. Yet he watched Wyatt’s back, gaze alert and seeking.

The gratitude Jax felt at Tace’s survival was only slightly marred by the uncertainty of Tace’s future. Of his sanity. When Jax had been infected, he’d immediately begun the vitamin B regimen, which had hopefully helped him retain his sanity. There had been no immediate B for Tace, and the repercussions of that could be devastating, although now he was getting shot up. For now, Jax would take whatever good he could.

Lynne stood at Jax’s side, tears falling silently down her face. Her body remained still, almost too much so, and not one sound emerged with her sorrow. The woman had learned to grieve in silence and alone, now hadn’t she? No matter how tempted he was, how he knew she needed comforting, he couldn’t reach out.

Wyatt finished the eulogy. How many had he given just during the last month? The guy had gotten his minister’s license online before Scorpius as a joke so he could officiate a football buddy’s wedding. But now, with death all around them, he was the only minister they had. Internet or not.

April Snyder watched the men pour dirt over her daughter’s covered body, not crying, not saying a word. She’d gone pale as if life had left her along with her color. The wind whipped into her, lifting her hair.

Little Lena stood vigil nearby, a small doll-like angel in her hands. She’d been giving April angel related gifts for a month.

Jax shivered. The irony there had to be just that—irony. He focused back on the ground.

The grave was small. Jax jolted internally at the thought. So fucking small. Haylee had been only about five feet tall, young and thin. Way too fucking young to die or be buried. He’d seen death up close since childhood, and he’d seen more than his share of dead kids. But now, as the leader of their small group, he felt each death somewhere deep and dark. One day, he’d fall in there and never climb out.

Rain poured over him, but he didn’t feel the cold. Hell, he didn’t feel anything but fury.

Until one small hand slid into his.

The anger rioting through him quelled. Just enough so he could breathe. Lynne had slipped her hand into his, and he curled his fingers, holding her against his abs. He couldn’t imagine how she’d dug deep enough to reach out, because he couldn’t have done it.

But he held tight.

The sermon ended, and a couple of the teenagers spoke next. Lena, her white hair glimmering in the lost day, moved forward and handed April the angel before turning back to the teenager watching her. Then the group slowly began to wind their way back to the center of Vanguard territory and the apartment buildings, walking through puddles and over cracked concrete, their shoulders and heads down.

April Snyder didn’t move.

Neither did Jax, Wyatt, or the soldiers flanking her. Jax thought about giving Lynne leave to go get warm, but the idea of relinquishing her hand made his gut clench. He’d seen parents grieve, and sometimes they stayed all night at the grave site. So he’d wait for April however long it took. He gave Tace the high sign to get inside, but his friend just stared back.

Stubborn bastard.

Without even a hint of warning, April Snyder dropped to her knees. Water and mud splashed up.

Lynne began to tug away to approach the grieving mother, but Jax held firm. The woman had to grieve in whatever way worked for her.

Silver suddenly contrasted with her black coat. She held a gun in her hand, the one Jax had given her.

Oh fuck. Jax shoved Lynne behind him. “April?” He began to move toward her, slowly, just as Wyatt approached from the other side.

She looked up, her gaze blank.