When the Wolves Cry (Twin Flames Duet #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

JAX

Maple syrup and vanilla flow numbingly through my head. I keep my steps light up the zebra print runner, lamps in every direction to guide my way up the black stairs.

The large one in her room is filtering out into the hall, and as I get closer, I see her pretty, black toenails up in the air, legs crossed at her ankles, and her lying on her stomach while typing on her laptop.

A zip of lighting runs up my chest, ogling her damn hair. It’s messily thrown up in a big clip, long silk overflowing down her back and tendrils falling around her face.

She jolts, snapping her panicked eyes over at me. I greedily scan over her insane body, eye fucking her little tank top and silk shorts.

I bite my lip, groaning just enough to get some relief from the carnal frenzy warming my blood.

She huffs. “How are you so quiet? You’re like ten-feet tall .”

Knowing it’ll piss her off if I walk on her new giant, fluffy rug with my sneakers, I kick them off by the door, and slide in next to her. “That’s dramatic as fuck, Tala. I’m six-foot-eight and just happen to be stealthy.”

She stares at me blandly, long lashes fluttering with dramatic blinks. “That’s insane. Is your dad tall?” she asks curiously.

I rub up her back, noting the way she arches her chest up. “He was. Yes, ma’am.”

She sighs, closing her laptop and sliding it away. She nudges me to lay back, coming down right on top of me and laying on my chest. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” she says smoothly.

She feels perfect on top of me. Like a missing puzzle piece finally being found. It makes my heart rate run quickly, spiking my blood pressure.

She hears it. And starts tapping the rhythm onto me.

Playing with the long silk spread over my chest and arm, I say, “Brutus Tuffin killed him when I was twelve. So, I’ve had a long time to move on from it. I just want to kill the piece of shit and try my best to make my father proud.”

She lifts up, Venus eyes full of understanding. “That’s why you followed him here… Where’s your mom?” she asks softly, drawing hearts on my chest with her sharp nail.

“I don’t know, baby girl. She was seeing one of Brutus’s mules behind my father’s back and got caught up in the drugs. Well, she wasn’t paying for it and my father took the hit. She moved that guy in and… life was shitty until I left for college. I had full intention of killing her and Victor and getting the dogs out. But by the time I showed up for blood, they were long gone. Dogs too.”

She frowns. “Do you think she’s here?”

“She could be,” I nod. “Victor ran Brutus’s mill in the backyard and hosted his fights in my father’s shed. There’s a high chance they’ve been following him around. But there’s also a high chance someone else has killed them.”

I’m not trying to get a raging hard-on.

But she’s rubbing up and down my chest, sending tingles through my stomach and straight to my dick.

Not giving her the chance to say anything else, I gently pry her off and help myself to her closet.

“Uh… what are you doing?” she asks whimsically.

I turn around to her sitting in a siren-like pose. “We have plans, baby,” I smile.

Her face scrunches. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that? I don’t have makeup on.”

I’m not going to be that guy that says, “you don’t need it.” She doesn’t. Her natural beauty is compelling as hell. But she likes it and does a really good job at it. It makes her happy. Therefore, I’m happy.

Flicking her closet light on, I look around at the assortment of black. “Because I didn’t want you to freak out about what I’m gonna be doing. You have twenty minutes to do whatever you need. We’re meeting Maverick and Nadia atNight Cage at nine.”

“Jax,” she growls ferociously. It makes my dick throb even more, and I turn around to the stern siren who’s shaking her long hair from the clip. “I know you’re a fucking murderer, but do you know how to fight?”

The question makes me laugh. I shake my head in amusement with her, looking through her leather pants. “It’s what I was raised to do. I’ve mastered and surpassed martial arts.”

She pops her lips. “That’s really hot,” she says dreamily, voice hushed with thoughts, then scurries off to her bathroom.

It’s not often she compliments me. She doesn’t have to when her eyes speak louder than words. But it always swells my head and plasters a smile on my face when she does.

I look around her closet for a few minutes, laying out an all-leather outfit with her big ass boots at the end of her bed.

She walks out of the bathroom, still swirling a brush under her eyes. I do a double take at her, once again having heart palpitations over her hair. It’s half-up in a slicked back, spiky bun.

She looks over the leather, flicking confused eyes and a lifted brow up at me. “You want me to wear that?”

“Mm-hmm… Why? You don’t like it?”

“No, not…” She grins, waving her brush through the air. “Never mind.” Spinning around, I catch her grin stretching into a smile through the bathroom mirror.

It dawns on me why she asked, and I scratch my scruff, internally going over the contacts I have in New Orleans, wondering if any of them know how to resurrect the fucking dead that have been chewed up by rats and wolves.

Surely not. Right?

Walking over to the bathroom, I brace the doorframe to watch her.

“Are you nervous?” she asks, bent over the sink and running a black wand through her eyelashes.

“Nothing makes me nervous. Fear is a mental parasite that we’re bigger than. If you’re in tune with your body, as well as your surroundings, every situation you come across will melt in your palms. You know, people chalk it up as strength. But strength has nothing to do with owning your power. It’s self-discipline and analytical thinking. You find your opening and you strike. No matter what, good or bad, everything has an opening. And that’s up to you to decide on what the smart move is.”

She shuts a drawer full of makeup, turning around with amber pools that are warm with reverence. “You never struggle with anxiety?”

“No, ma’am. But that doesn’t make you less than. You don’t let it consume you. You claim your power, find your opening, and you fight it. Even when you don’t realize it.”

She closes the distance between us and glides her little hand up my abdomen. “I guess the Devil really is a Fallen Angel,” she hums.

She’s looking way too goddamn good to have to leave right now.

I lower my arm from the doorframe, tracing my fingers through the notch of her collarbone. She shudders, and I bend down to her lips, trailing my fingertips up to her throat and spreading them around her neck.

“I’m trapped in Pandora’s box of infatuation with you. Don’t take my gentleness as a compass of character. It’s only for you. When you see wings, others see horns.”

She inches closer, skimming her pouty lips up mine.

“Go get dressed,” I demand lightheartedly, and back away.

She slowly blinks, then grabs the hem of her tank top and slides it off. “Yes, sir,” she says dryly, chucking her top at me.

I catch it, greedily watching her pretty tits bounce as she walks away.

“Pack a bag for me. I’ll stay the night with you… That’s if you don’t end up in the hospital with a split head.”

I think excitement is blooming up my chest. I don’t know, but it’s lighting me up and making me stride to her closet. “That won’t happen. I’ll let him get a few hits in for entertainment purposes. Brutus is supposedly going to be there and Maverick’s going to try to pull information from him.” I grab her shaggy bag from on top of the Dresden chest, walking back out to an interesting visual.

I hike a brow, intently watching her struggle to get the leather pants over her ass. She has the leather halter top on, and since there’s just a single buckle holding the fabric around her tits, she’s not wearing a bra.

It’s a mighty fine sight.

She growls in vexation, yanking them up over her ass. “What do you mean Brutus is going to be there? Why don’t you just kill him and save your pornography?”

Amusement huffs out of my nose, proceeding to her dresser. “It’s not that simple, baby girl. We need to figure out where they’re living because of the dogs and the women he’s kidnapped. And it might not even be him. It might be one of his men sitting for him.”

Night Cageis a hole in the wall. It started out as an illegal underground fighting club. But once Mayor Jenkins took over and word got around that he doesn’t give a shit about anything it became a spot that lost its secrecy.

We’re maneuvering through the groups of people waiting outside who are smoking cigarettes and hitting vapes.

When you’re with a siren, expect attention.

Every single person we pass greedily scans Tala. I know she’s a dark goddess, it’s impossible to not let your curious eyes wander.

But there’s a limit to that.

Good thing some simple eye contact with me snaps them out of their compulsion.

“I don’t want to hold your hand, Maverick,” Nadia snips.

“You’re walking too slow, angel.”

“No fucking shit! I’m the shortest one and you guys are practically running!”

Tala’s hand squeezes mine as we enter the open door bleeding out neon purple lights. I look down, and my stomach hollows—the air getting stripped right from my lungs.

Her eyes are already unbelievable to gaze into. But the purple light swallows any trace of brown, leaving only gold to twinkle up at me.

I pull her in front of me, doing my best to not let my cock swell against her ass, and push through the flesh suits already cluttering the small space around the cage, heading in the direction of the locker room.

As we step inside, Maverick pats my shoulder. “I’m gonna go find Ray and get some seats!” he hollers over the loud voices.

I nod, and walk in with Tala, closing the door behind me. The obnoxious chanting and shouting become muffled, giving me the quiet to get my head on straight.

She sits on the bench, twiddling her thumbs and watching me take my backpack off. “Are you prepared for this?” she questions edgily. “I know you said you’ve been training your entire life, but you stay busy and you’re going up against a guy that puts people in a coma.”

I set my backpack next to her, unzipping it and fetching out my fight shorts. “I’m always prepared. If I’m at home, I’m either training in my studio or watching you.”

Taking my shirt off, I feel tugging on my belt. I whip my head out, sliding the fabric off my arms and peering down at the tattooed hands undoing my belt buckle.

I’ve never fought in the cage with mysmoke showof a girlfriend watching. So, I’ve never been worried about distractions.

Until now.

I know Maverick won’t take his eyes off her, but I don’t like having to alter my undivided focus on anything but her. Especially since we’re in a crowded place that Brutus may be wandering around in.