Page 90 of The Never List
You get one fuckup and one chance to redeem yourself. If you don’t? We make sure you never fuck up again, and we do it in a way that sends a message to anyone else even thinking about messing with the people we’re charged to protect. Do we have to get our hands dirty sometimes to ensure that protection? Sure, but that doesn’t make us the bad guys.
Not all bad, anyway.
“That may be true,” Pierce says. “But they’re the first organization to evade us. It’s troublesome.”
I roll my eyes, folding my arms over my chest. “It’s annoying as fuck.”
Jax raises a hand toward Pierce, eyes narrowed. “Don’t call them an organization. Don’t give them the credit.”
Pierce crosses one leg over the other, his arms stretching over the rails of the ship as he gazes toward the horizon. “I’m incapable of calling anything other than what I see. Discrediting them won’t weaken their attempts to break the laws in any of our territories.”
Jax leans down, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do you always have to be so goddess-damn serious?” His tone is as playful as Jax ever gets, which makes the rest of us laugh.
“I apologize,” Pierce says. “It’s in my nature, just as yours is to brood, mope, and cut into things.”
“I don’t mope,” Jax fires back.
“I’d say you mope quite a bit.” Rylee’s voice sounds from the stairs of the ship. We all turn in sync to watch her as she clears them and boards. There’s a small wooden crate tucked beneath her arm, no doubt the last from the batch on the beach.
Her feet are bare. White grains of sand cling to her toes, which are painted ruby red, no doubt putting the smile on Kal’s face right now. She wears neutral colors today. White linen pants hang low at her waist, and a cream-colored sleeveless top clings to her breasts so tightly, I can see the moment her nipples peak.
I’m self-centered enough to believe thatthathappened to her at the sight of me.
I cast a sideways glance at Jax, each of us silently awaiting his retort. There’s a brightness in his purple eyes that wasn’t there moments before, and the tense set of his shoulders loosens at the sight of Rylee.
So, he does have feelings for our potential mate, no matter how hard he tries to dismiss them.
“You barely know me, butterfly,” he says, the sharp edge of his voice smoothing out into a low tone that has Rylee’s throat bobbing.
She sets down the crate and strides toward Jax as if the rest of us don’t even exist. Leaning down to meet his eyes, she arches a brow, her stunning blue eyes as sharp as a hawk’s.
“I may have secrets,” she says, outright challenging him with her defiant look, “much to your horror. But I know you dance like smoke on glass,” she says. Jax flinches. “I know you like dark fairy tales as much as I do.” She boldly reaches for him, sliding her hand beneath his jacket and retrieving a knife from one of his many holsters.
Holy shit, I’ve never seen him allowanyoneto touch his blades before.
Kal shifts in her direction like he’s prepared to put himself between her and whatever retaliation Jax will have for her crossing a line he’s drawn with everyone in existence. I’m right there with him, the water in my blood rising from the ocean behind us, ready to create a wall if need be.
“I know this is your favorite toy,” she continues, not realizing the momentous error she’s made. Jax’s blades are like his babies—he covets them the way I do the sea or Kal does the sky or Pierce does knowledge.
She twirls the blade in her hand, studying the obsidianlaid into the black walnut hilt. I hold my breath, anxious with the way she handles it, worrying she’ll slice off her finger.
As she flips it end over end, Jax watches her movements intently, holding us all on a tightrope while we wait for him to react. Rylee catches the hilt perfectly each time while Kal, Pierce, and myself hiss in response, waiting for the inevitable slipup and cry of pain, the spilling of our potential mate’s blood all over the deck of my ship.
But she doesn’t wail, doesn’t miss a gentle toss until she finally stops, nothing but a wicked smile on her face that has me wanting to fall to my knees and worship her.
She effortlessly slides the blade back in Jax’s holster. “I can see the draw,” she says, giving Jax a sexy little shrug that reminds me of a lioness toying with her prey. “So, tell me, Jax. Was I lying about knowing you?”
Jax eyes are searing as he looks from her to the knife she returned and back again. “Clever butterfly,” he says, low and icy as he leans forward. “I would’ve had to tear off your wings if you hadn’t returned my favorite blade.”
Rylee doesn’t balk at his words. In fact, a tremor visibly racks her body as she wets her lips. “That’s right. I almost forgot,” she says. “You’re the big bad Nightmare,” she whispers.
Fuck me, this woman likes to dance with death. Why does it turn me on so much, watching her take him to task? Maybe because I’ve never seen it before. Not once in myentirelife. The only person who has ever had the balls to do so is Baydel, and that’s a whole different vibe.
Rylee leans closer, her lips a few inches from his. Pierce and Kal are watching with as much rapt attention as me. Ican’t tell if she’s going to kiss him or bite him to draw blood, but either way, I’m so fucking here for it.
“You know who isn’t afraid of nightmares?” she asks, boldly placing her hands on his thighs to brace herself.
Jax glances at the touch, then focuses on her face, not bothering to move. I’ve seen him nudge plenty of girls off him before—mainly the countless ones in his club that are dying for a taste of his danger—but here, with Rylee? He doesn’t even seem aware that the rest of us are watching this scene play out.
