I was with Jax for ten years. But the day he decided to go straight, his crew was already calling someone else "boss lady." Those hands, which had seen their share of blood and battles, were now gently tying the laces on a young girl's canvas sneakers. "Sandy," he told me, "she's not like you." "You can run wild with me, no questions asked, no title needed. She can't." I didn't look back that day. What Jax never knew was that my family had been waiting for me to get this out of my system. They had a good man waiting in the wings the whole time, just waiting for me to give him a title of his own. 1 The day Jax decided to wash his hands of the life, he pulled me into bed and the world outside ceased to exist. I stared at the shredded lingerie on the floor, a tangled mess of black lace. For a moment, I was speechless. "Jax," I finally managed, "is it the end of the world?" The raw, desperate way he'd taken me… it felt like there was no tomorrow. He was smoking his usual post-sex cigarette, his eyelids heavy, a haze of smoke blurring his features. "Sandy, if I were to… break it off with you," he started, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. "You wouldn't, like, lose your mind over it, would you?" He said it like a joke, but a chill ran down my spine. Ten years with Jax had taught me to read every nuance. He liked his women obedient on the surface, but with a core of rebellion he could play against. Just like now. I took the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers, pushed down the storm churning inside me, and raised a lazy eyebrow. "Jax, do you still think I'm eighteen?" If I were still that eighteen-year-old in canvas shoes, I would have demanded answers. I would have made him pay for leaving me, consequences be damned. But I'm twenty-eight now… A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn't finish the thought. Jax just ruffled my hair and stubbed out the cigarette as it burned down to his knuckles. "Sandy, let's end it here." "And stop smoking. For fuck's sake, stop treating your body like it's disposable." "We're not kids anymore. We can't keep living like this." In that instant, I froze. A breakup at twenty-eight. The first one to cry loses everything. The smeared makeup, the raw vulnerability—it's a complete defeat. I tried to act casual, reaching for my jacket on the floor, ready to leave. But Jax's long arm snaked out and pulled me back into his arms. Outside, the clouds were a swirl of dark ink, pregnant with a coming storm. His lips traced a path down my spine as he expertly adjusted the strap of my dress. He nibbled on my earlobe, just like he always used to. "Heard me?" he whispered. I didn't answer. He didn't seem to mind. His tone was that of a man in absolute control, a king speaking to his subject. "It's about to rain. Stay a little longer, hm?" Ten years can smooth over any conflict, creating a deceptive calm on the surface. Jax must have forgotten. My temper… it wasn't just for show. If we were going to break, it had to be clean. I straightened my back, pushing his chiseled, handsome face away, and offered a small, cool smile. "How long is this storm going to last?" He had someone else in his heart now. How long did he think he could keep me here? A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he recovered quickly. When he introduced the other girl, his words were simple, brutal. "Sandy, you're a smart woman." "Her name is Ava. She's not like you. You can be in the muck with me, without a title." "She can't. She's too pure." I swallowed hard. The wreckage of our night was all around us. Suddenly, I didn't know what to say. What did he mean, I could be in the muck with him without a title? The black silk, the high heels, the slip dresses. For years, Jax had molded me into his perfect woman. Now that I’d finally perfected that sultry, dangerous look, he found it cheap? For a moment, I wanted to scream at him. But he put a finger to his lips, silencing me. It was a phone call. From the girl, Ava. "Jax? You said you were coming to pick me up…" her voice was a fragile whisper. "I'm all alone, and I'm scared…" 2 Jax left me for her. The roar of his engine echoed from the underground garage as a text message lit up my phone. [I'll be out of town for a bit. Get your stuff out of the house.] [I'm having someone change the locks in two weeks.] I didn't reply. I just moved through the villa I'd called home for five years, silently erasing every trace of myself. After a long while, my phone lit up again. Jax must have reached the terrified Ava by now. This was him, tying up the last loose end of our decade together. [Call me if you need anything.] [I can't give you a title, but other than that, we can still be friends.] I had loved Jax for ten years. And in return, I got a casual dismissal. A friend. … The downpour lasted for two full days. The city was drowning, a damp chill seeping into my bones. I couldn't sleep. I'd wake in the dead of night and flick a lighter open, just to see the small flame. The year I got with Jax, he was just a street hustler who couldn't make rent, living in a damp basement apartment. In that humid air, the only light came from his lighter. Click. Click. The flame sparking, then dying. Jax, with his sharp buzz cut, had stared at me in my school uniform. "Think this through, Sandy." "A guy like me, I'm not going anywhere." "I can't give you the future you want." I was so damn naive back then. I took off my rain-soaked canvas shoes and tucked my ice-cold feet into the warmth of his chest, right against the thin fabric of his tank top. His body heat was like a torch, slowly setting me ablaze. There was only that single, flickering flame, but I stubbornly nodded. "Jax, I don't want a future." "I just want you." We went through hell together. Nights filled with the smell of antiseptic and the rustle of bandages. Nights of desperate, clinging passion. Jax used to say that the day he finally went straight, the very first thing he would do was marry me. Now, he was going straight. And the first thing he did was cut me out of his life. I'm twenty-eight. I'm not a kid anymore. I can't keep messing around. Besides, my family had a man waiting for me. Just waiting for me to give him a title. 3 I decided to leave the city. But first, I took the keys to the villa and went to Jax's club. No makeup, no fancy dress. Just jeans and canvas sneakers. When I walked in, most of the guys didn't even recognize me. It was only when I took off my cap that the crew—the same guys who used to eagerly call me "boss lady"—fell silent. They all knew about Jax and the new girl. The ones who were still loyal to me started trying to stir things up. "Sandy, for what it's worth, we all think you and the boss are the perfect match." "This new girl… she's a lightweight. Can't exactly show her off, can you?" "Why don't you go talk to him? You know he always listens to—" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Ten years with Jax. I had an innocent face, but with a slash of red lipstick and a bit of eyeliner, I could look deadly. Plenty of men had their eyes on me, but Jax was always there to protect me. Anyone who dared to touch a hair on my head ended up hauling sandbags in some godforsaken desert outpost. If I shed a single tear, Jax would drop everything to comfort me. That was a privilege once reserved only for me. But this time, the guys didn't get to finish their sentence. A porcelain cup shattered against the wall, right next to one of their heads. Jax's face was dark with fury. "Anyone listening would think Sandy runs this place." "Is this how you watch my business when I'm gone?!" The sprawling room went dead silent. That was the power Jax commanded. Only now, that power was being used against me. I started to explain, to defend the guys, but the girl behind him peeked out, her tone deceptively innocent. "Jax, is this the Sandy you told me about?" "She's dressed just like me!" Jax's brow furrowed as he looked me up and down. Jeans, canvas sneakers. It was a mirror image of Ava's style. He looked at me with suspicion in his eyes. "Sandy, did you look her up?" If you looked closely, Ava did look about five parts like I did at eighteen. Especially in this outfit. I saw right through the girl's little game, but I refused to defend myself. Instead of me investigating Ava, wasn't it more likely that someone had investigated Jax's tastes? After ten years together, he couldn't even trust me on this… I pressed my lips into a stubborn line. Jax let out a short, sharp laugh. A sneer. "No matter how much you dress the part, you're not eighteen anymore." "Sandy, what are you fighting me for?" I blinked, unable to believe what he'd just said. "How about this," Jax said, licking his lips, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Ten years. Name your price." I froze. I had been with Jax for ten years. I'd taken a bullet for him. I'd taken a knife for him. But nothing, not a single moment, had ever hurt more than this. My nails dug into my palms, my voice trembled. "Jax, what did you just say?" "I said, I wasted ten years of your youth." "Name your price." He stood there, hands in his pockets. Even as a storm of emotion raged in his eyes, he forced the words out. I felt like I was going to collapse. Ava tugged on his sleeve, whispering, "Jax, don't be so mean." "Sandy didn't do anything wrong." He looked down at her, his expression softening as he gently brushed his nose against hers. "It's okay, baby. Be good." He pushed her behind him. "I'm not going to let anyone bully you." That's how he used to protect me. I couldn't watch. A bitter bile rose in my throat. I looked down and saw the silver bangle on my wrist. The year he gave it to me, it was a snug fit. But the deeper I fell in love with Jax, the looser it became.
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