At the bar, my assistant Chloe was crying her eyes out over a breakup. Someone chimed in to comfort her: "Who hasn't had a trash ex? Let's have a contest. Who has the most embarrassing ex? Maybe that will make Chloe feel better." The girls started throwing out their horror stories: "I dated a guy who was obsessed with feet. It was his whole personality." "I dated a guy who was so cheap, he made me Venmo him for the gas used to drive to my house." "I dated a guy who wore a fedora unironically in 2023." The atmosphere heated up. Suddenly, someone turned to me. "Harper, you've been quiet. What about you? You must have a past." I stared at the amber liquid in my glass, feeling a bit buzzed. "I have one." Everyone leaned in, interested. "You have such high standards. You turned down CEO Preston last month. Your ex must have been a god, right?" I sniffled. I glanced at a tall figure working behind the bar in the distance. I looked away and said indignantly, "He was an old man." The group gasped. "Like... a silver fox? A billionaire daddy?" I shook my head. "A thug. Uneducated. Bad temper. And he did time in prison." The group was stunned. "So... he must have treated you like a queen, right?" I suddenly remembered that summer five years ago. His voice was cold as ice. Harper, I’m done with you. We’re done. Leave and don't come back. Treat me like a queen? Hardly. I downed my drink, my throat burning. "He was a scumbag." "I moved in with him when I was sixteen. We were together for four years, and in the end, he dumped me." The table erupted in sympathy. "Damn, Harper, you win." "That’s not just an ex, that’s a criminal record." "You really lowered your standards for that one." Chloe wiped her tears, curious. "But Harper... did he at least save your life or something?" My eyes drifted back to that figure in the shadows. "Yeah," I whispered. "He saved my life." 1 When I was sixteen, my stepmother sold me. The buyer was rumored to be a killer fresh out of prison. I was dragged to a run-down house by an old woman—his grandmother—and pushed in front of a tall man. "Jax, this is the wife I found you." The man was tall, with sharp brows and eyes that looked like they could cut glass. He looked terrifying. "Nana, have you lost your mind? That’s a child." The fixer standing next to us laughed nervously. "She’s sixteen, a real beauty. Let her do housework for two years. When she’s legal, you get a marriage license." Jax cursed, his voice like thunder. "Get out! I’m not an animal!" I stood there, trembling, not knowing what to do. The fixer got desperate. "You’ve got a record, Jax! Who else is going to marry you? Your grandma saved every penny to get you a wife. Her family already took the cash!" Jax walked up to me. The air around him dropped ten degrees. "Where do you live?" I whispered the address of the trailer park. He turned around, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out the door. The "return" process was violent. My stepmother didn't want to give the money back. She stood on the porch, screaming. "You took the goods! Who knows if she’s still clean! No refunds on used goods!" I stood there, humiliated, wishing the ground would swallow me. My father sat on the steps, smoking, saying nothing. Jax picked up a beer bottle from the trash and smashed it against the porch railing. "Nobody told you? I just got out for manslaughter." He pointed the jagged glass at them. "Want to make it two?" My stepmother screamed and threw the envelope of cash at him. He turned to leave. As soon as he stepped off the porch, my stepmother slapped me across the face. "Useless trash! Now we have to find another buyer! The guy in the next town only offered eight grand!" I shook violently. I didn't know what kind of hell awaited me next. On the drive back, I had thought about ending it. Jumping out of the car. But I was a coward. I was sixteen. I wanted to live. I wanted to go to school. Suddenly, the front door was kicked open. Jax was back. He didn't say a word. He threw the envelope of money back into my stepmother's face. Then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of that house. "Is that your biological mother?" he asked, his voice shaking with rage. "No," I stammered. "But... my dad is real." He cursed under his breath. "Wait here." He went back inside. I heard my father scream. I don't know why, but the tears finally broke through. Being sold, being hit—I was numb to it. But in that moment, standing in the dirt driveway, I cried. I followed him to his beat-up truck, tears streaming down my face. "Why are you crying?" His tone was still harsh. "You were tough enough a minute ago." I didn't speak. He scratched his head aggressively, messing up his hair. "Fine. Just... come home with me for now." 2 I was brought back to Jax's house. The neighbors gossiped. "Hey Jax, brought the wife back?" He pulled me behind him, blocking their view. "Shut your mouth. She's my sister." That night, Nana cooked a feast, but she kept sighing. "I wanted you to have a wife, and you brought back a sister. How am I going to get you married now?" Jax rolled his eyes. "Nana, stop it. I'm not a predator." At the dinner table, the old lady kept piling food onto my plate. "Eat up. You're too skinny, child." That night, I ate until I couldn't move. The house was small. Two bedrooms. Nana had one, Jax had the other. He partitioned a corner of his room with plywood, set up a narrow cot and an old desk. Nana gave me clean sheets. Outside the window, wildflowers were blooming in the moonlight. Before this, I slept on a dirty mattress in a storage closet. Now, I had a bed. I lay on the hard mattress, unable to sleep. I could hear Jax breathing on the other side of the plywood. It was strangely comforting. The next morning, Jax knocked on the wood. "Get up. We're going to school." I sat up, confused. "School?" "What else? You're sixteen. If you don't go to school, what are you gonna do?" My nose stung. I could go to school? After breakfast, he rolled out a rusty motorcycle and drove me to the local high school. Jax stood in the principal's office, tucking in his shirt, hiding his tattoos. "This is my sister. We need to register her." From that day on, I really had a "brother." Jax was famous in that part of town. The head of the thugs. He had killed a man (in a fight), served time. People said he ran the underground. Nobody messed with him. I used to be the quiet girl everyone bullied. Now, when people saw me, they respectfully called me "Miss Harper." The first time we had a parent-teacher conference, Jax came. He wore all black, looking like a hitman sitting on a tiny classroom chair. After the meeting, he ruffled my hair, grinning like an idiot. "Damn. First time I've ever been praised in a school. You make me look good, kid." 3 Jax was rarely home during the day. Nana was worried. "Harper, keep an eye on him. Don't let him do anything stupid." I became his shadow. Wherever Jax went, I went. He hated it. "Go home. This isn't a place for kids." "Are you sleeping around?" I asked angrily. He glared at me. "Where did you learn those words?" "You're doing bad things." TV taught me that nightclubs were dens of sin. He worked security at a club. I sat in the corner doing my homework. If a girl tried to flirt with him, I stared her down. Jax eventually grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to the exit. "Go home." "Nana said to watch you." "Watch me what? Watch me fight? Watch me bounce drunks? Watch me smoke?" I bit my lip. "Don't be bad." He froze, then laughed bitterly. "Harper, I've been bad for a long time." "Do you like that lady?" I asked, pointing at a woman with wavy hair who kept eyeing him. He pulled my ponytail. "Harper, you're a little gossip machine." Riding home on his motorcycle, the wind roaring in my ears, I grabbed his shirt tight. "Jax, do you have someone you like?" He was silent for a long time. "I did." "Where is she?" "She ran off with someone else." Her name was Vanessa. I met her once. Tall, beautiful, driving a red convertible parked at the end of our alley. She came to find Jax. Jax wasn't home. Nana, usually so kind, slammed the door in her face. Nana told me the story. They were high school sweethearts. But Vanessa's dad was a gambler who owed money to sharks. The sharks came for Vanessa. Jax stepped in, fought them, and one of them died. Jax went to prison. Everyone thought Vanessa would wait. In his third year inside, she married a wealthy business owner. "Jax wanted to join the Marines," Nana said, wiping her eyes. "Instead he got a record and lost everything. He never says a word, but I know it kills him." Vanessa wouldn't leave. I grabbed the gift basket she brought and threw it into the street. "You think money fixes this? Jax has a record for life because of you! Who pays for that?" Vanessa looked pale. "I didn't have a choice..." "You're married! Have some dignity and leave!" Jax was standing behind me, arms crossed. He chuckled. "Alright, Harper. You got a temper." I sniffled, eyes red. "Rich people think they're so great." He rubbed my head. "It's fine." I still felt awful. He was a good man. He didn't deserve to be thrown away. Who was going to pay for his ruined life? 4 We were poor, but the house was warm. Jax worked nights. Nana and I did handicrafts to sell. When he got paid, we ate meat. He gave me allowance. I saved it. One day, I took the money to the mall and bought a box of men's brand-name boxers. I shoved the box at him, my face burning. "Your underwear on the clothesline has holes in it..." He paused for two seconds. "Nobody sees them but me. You manage a lot for a kid." "Has... nobody seen them?" I asked without thinking. He narrowed his eyes and pinched my cheek. "Harper, get your mind out of the gutter. Your brother doesn't sleep around!" He looked at the box, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. He lay on the couch playing on his phone while I did homework on the coffee table. Once, he dug through my backpack and found a few love letters. His face went black. "Harper, what is this?" "Someone gave them to me." "Who? Which little punk wants to die?" "Jax! I rejected them! I brought them home to use as scrap paper for math." He looked serious. "Focus on school. No dating." Those two years were the brightest of my life. I had a Nana, a protector, a clean bed. I was full, safe, and happy.
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