Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(82)

Jax rolled his neck. “I appreciate the help. Is there any chance you’ll take a more active role around here?” He could really use somebody with Raze’s training.

“No.” Raze eyed the gathering dark clouds. “Why are you doing this?”

“Huh?”

Raze settled again. “With your skills, you could’ve headed into the woods and just lived off the land. You don’t have family, you didn’t have friends, and you didn’t have a woman when you gathered this hodgepodge of a group together. So why?”

Jax frowned. “We were under attack, by first the bacteria and then rival gangs, so I just reacted. There were people to save.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been fighting ever since, and that’s all I know. Now I’ve vowed to end Cruz for my brother.” And he’d promised safety to a woman, one who needed protection more than any other person on earth. “To be honest, I always figured we’d find a cure, regroup, and then the government would step in.” Was it too much to hope that might still happen?

“It’s funny. With all the stories about you, almost making you a legend, nothing hints that you’re such an optimist.”

An optimist? Jax snorted. “I’m not even close.”

“You think we’re going to survive Scorpius and go on? I mean, as a species?” Raze asked.

Jax paused, his mind clicking. “Yes. Don’t you?”

Raze scratched the stubble on his chin. “No. I think we’re tilting at windmills right now.”

Jax studied him. “Then why fight?”

“I’ve got my own reasons.” Raze pushed off the wall.

“I got that the second you walked into camp,” Jax said easily. “You might be quiet, but this isn’t my first rodeo. I read you day one. I just don’t know what your agenda is.”

“I figured.”

Okay. Jax made to go. “Well, good talk. While you’re being helpful, I wouldn’t mind if you helped train some of the civilians.” He’d gotten sucked in with friends; maybe Raze would, too.

“Happy to help, but, Jax?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not a group activity type of guy.”

Finally, they were planning to go to Myriad in the morning. She was so close. Lynne tried to focus while working in the headquarters infirmary after dinner, taking note of a soldier with an infected cut. They needed some antibiotics. She wondered how many kids in the center of the territory had infections, ear or tonsil, that weren’t getting better. “I’d kill for some amoxicillin,” she said to Tace.

“People already have.” He finished organizing their meager supply of bandages. “Why don’t you head on up and get some sleep? When Jax says we’re leaving at first dawn, he means it.”

Her eyes ached, and her temples pounded. While she wouldn’t sleep, lying down and shutting her eyes for a minute couldn’t hurt. “Okay.” She dodged through the rec room and up to the apartment, shoving open the door.

She stilled at finding Jax inside. Moonlight, weak and waning, cut through the boards over the window to light the area. “What are you doing?” she asked, glancing at a pile of clothing and weapons on the couch.

“Come here,” he said, tugging a pair of jeans from the bottom of the pile. “Put these on.”

She hesitated at the door. “I like my yoga pants.”

“Too bad. You’ll need jeans, something sturdier for your legs and weapons, tomorrow.” He held out the denim. “Try these on.”

Great. Jax Mercury in full bossy mode was too much at the moment. She approached the couch, kicked off her shoes, and added a shimmy to her ass when she dropped the yoga pants. Trying to appear innocent, she held out a hand for the jeans.

His lids dropped to half-mast, and he handed over the denim. Masculine tension filtered through the room and took over the atmosphere.

She slid into them, shaking her butt, sucking in her stomach to button the top. They were tight but would loosen upon wearing.

Jax slid a gun belt around her waist and tightened it, dropping to his haunches to attach the two strips to her right leg. “I’ve seen the way you can shoot.” He shoved a black gun into the weapon holder, his face near her midriff.

“Yes.” She settled her weight to keep balanced, her abdomen heating. “I practiced with my uncle as we made our way here.” Talking about Bruce hurt somewhere deep in her chest.

Jax glanced up, his hands going to her thighs. “Your uncle was trained?”

“Yes. He was retired NYPD,” she said, sadness hollowing out her stomach. “Helped me get out of the CDC, as you know, and then we ran.”

Jax’s brown eyes softened. “How did your uncle die?”

Lynne swallowed and bit down rage. “The Elite Force caught up with us in Arizona, and it was ugly.”

Jax breathed out and stood. “They killed your uncle?”

“Yes.” Tears sprang to Lynne’s eyes, and she batted them back.

“Give me the story,” Jax said, reaching for a pair of black leather boots. “But first things first. Try these on.”

She slipped her feet into the boots, which were only a size too large. “They’re okay. I can find socks.” Then she sighed. “We were camping outside Tucson with a nice community led by a retired sheriff, and word came in that government soldiers were nearing. A sniper took out Uncle Bruce right beside me.” She’d never forget the shock and slice of instant pain.