Chapter 33 (Salt)

Reno, Nevada || 03-27-2023



Lyv Jackson spent an hour staring at the screen, choking on her rage. The salt was stinging those old wounds she’d been sure had closed over and vanished years ago. All it had taken was one casual swipe from caustic fingers and here she was, that bitter taste in her mouth and the memories of inadequacy and betrayal welling up from deep within. This time, though, she wasn’t wallowing or sobbing. She was LIVID and it was that anger that spurred her actions over the next hour. She’d just sent a saucy text to her husband when her phone lit up with a notification.

“That was quick,” she murmured, then realized it was another reply from Yelena Gorgo to her flippant gif rather than something from Jackson.



She resisted the urge to smash her phone to bits, but just barely, instead dropping it facedown on the nightstand as she heard her husband's bare feet padding along the hallway. She had about ten seconds to compose herself before they reached the master bedroom door. Narrowing her eyes in a glare, she settled into the middle of their California King sized bed, clad in a rose color bra and panties lingerie set. When the knob turned, her face reset into a smirk as she picked up her phone. The door opened as Lyv sat up on her knees; Heart's ‘Magic Man’ started to play from their bedroom speaker.

“Hey Magic Man…” The smirk on her face widened into a grin. “Glad you could make it.” One look at her and there was no question as to what she wanted – or rather, what he thought she wanted.

Utterly oblivious to what had prompted this, his smirk mirrored hers as he took in the sight. Even after all this time, she still looked damn fine to his eyes and it had been a while since the last time they’d been spontaneously intimate like this.

“Mmmhey,” it was more an amused chuckle than a greeting – one she’d heard plenty of times before. Barefoot in nothing but the old gym shorts he used for bumming around the house and a ratty old punk tee that was so faded the original logo was indistinguishable from random paint splatters, he definitely wasn’t as dressed for the occasion as she was. He took the reading glasses off his head and tossed them on the dresser on his way by, never taking his eyes off her. There was something in her energy, a crackle of electricity in the air that put him on edge, turning him on immensely. “Shit babe, and it’s not even my birthday.”

Climbing off the bed, she closed the distance between them. “It doesn't have to be your birthday for me to show you how I'm feeling.” Biting down on her lower lip, one of her hands rested on his arm for a moment before sliding into his hand. “Does it?”

“Suppose not.” That lascivious smirk was still on his lips as he stepped a little closer into her personal space. “Just caught me off guard. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I understand,” there was a strange edge to her words, “being caught off guard is no fun.” The expression on her face didn't change, despite that strange undercurrent. She let go of his hand and went back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it with her palms resting on the surface just a little higher up. “It's been a while, so I just thought this might be nice.”

“Nice? There’s a hell of an understatement.” Jax pulled off his shirt, tossing it towards the laundry hamper as he followed her. No way he’d balk at an invitation, especially now that they had a kid and their free time was full of the mundane bullshit that he’d always scoffed at in the past. He knew those ratty shorts hid nothing from her view; she could see how much he appreciated the view. “Jesus, Lyv. You look incredible.”

Once he was at the foot of bed, her foot came up and rested on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “I'm not keeping you from anyone… am I?” Her smile faded slightly as she raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t keep her anger at bay for a moment longer.

The smile dropped off his face, a furrow between his brows as he stared at her. “Excuse me?” He couldn’t hide the irritation in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well supposedly you're having a steamy love affair with Marisol Vilaro.”

“I’m... WHAT?!” He stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

Her shoulders went up in a casual shrug. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time at the casino lately. I certainly wouldn't want to keep you from any prior engagements.” She was amazed that she managed to sound so calm while internally she felt like launching herself at him and clawing his fucking eyes out.

“Fuck off.” He snapped the words, unable to check them before they slipped out. Pulling out his phone, he noticed all the Twitter notifications that the sexy text had obscured. Apparently, tonight’s bullshit was about his love life, the fictional narrative erupting all over social media, spewed into the aether by Jace Parker Davidson and signal boosted by Gorgo. He tucked the damned thing back into his pocket, more irritated that his dick was going soft again than the nonsense. “You can’t seriously be putting any stock into…” he broke off, his eyes narrowed and boring into hers.

“For fuck’s sake. You know better than that.”

“Do I?” She kept her foot in place, worried that if he came close enough, she'd try to hit him.

“I’d fucking hope so.” His hand came up, fingers closing around her ankle. He resisted the urge to squeeze too hard. “Even if she wasn’t young enough to be my—” he broke off abruptly, breaking eye contact with her as he shook his head. “It’s easy enough to spin the tale, though, isn’t it? Can’t keep my dick in my pants. Can’t keep a wife. Of all the legacies to leave behind, that was NEVER the one I wanted to go down in history.”

She wanted to pull her foot away, but didn't. “Then what in the hell is going on?”

Both hands were on her foot now and he started rubbing it, massaging the way he once had when she’d been pregnant. “Devereaux does a full medical work up on everyone, the moment they sign a contract. Bloodwork included. Same with Vilaro because she was signed on as a part-timer and a manager – took hers a step further though – had a sneaking suspicion because she looks just like her mother did at that age.” His eyes were locked on hers as he confessed the truth, “violated her trust, but that’s the only thing I’m guilty of here. I took her blood sample. Tested her DNA, Lyv. Against my own.”

She blinked; she was pretty sure she knew what he was getting at. Still, she wanted him to say it out loud and she knew he could read that all over her face.

He raked a hand through his hair, “they’re right. I am biased where she’s concerned, but it’s not because we’re playing hide the goddamned sausage in the back offices. Can’t help it. I’m almost gonna rival Knox for all these illegitimate kids I got running around out there. So fuckin’ sue me for wanting to do right by this one.”

“Does she know?”

“No. Nobody does.”

“I see.” Lyv's eyes left his, feeling a sudden prickle like she might cry. She laid back on the bed, the massage to her foot starting to help her relax, despite her best efforts to remain angry with him. Now she just felt drained. And foolish. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The trouble with keeping something under wraps is the moment you say it out loud, especially in this day an age with fuckin’ phones and Alexas and Siri eavesdropping on everything... yeah.” He scoffed, still gently working the tension from her arch. “Last thing I want is for this shit to blow up. Make Ellie feel some kinda way—” honestly, that had been his first concern. His eldest daughter, the one who’d missed out on a decent childhood because her junkie mother had outright lied to him about getting an abortion. “She’s finally in a good place. I don’t want more of my past creeping up to bite me in the ass.”

His reasoning made sense, even though she hated that he’d felt like he couldn’t confide in her. Now she felt like a spoiled brat. After a bit of a prolonged silence, Lyv pushed herself back up so she could meet his eyes again. “I’m sorry, Jax. If I’d known...”

“You didn’t.” He let go of her foot and moved closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Should be pissed – the fact that you leapt right to swallowing that line without even...” he sighed, shaking his head. The old Jackson would have backhanded her for the audacity and then gone to buy some extravagant gift to make up for it. Being in recovery, having spent the last several years in therapy, it was easier to compartmentalize and take a mental step back from that impulse of his damned lizard brain. “Guess there’s always gonna be that doubt, isn’t there? No matter how much time—”

“I read that stupid tweet and it just scratched over some old wounds.” Her hand came up and rested on his as she looked down, honestly starting to feel ashamed at her attempt to jump to a conclusion. “I'm sorry.” The words came out quietly as she felt those tears starting to fall. The past five years he'd been perfect and had done nothing but make up for the years they'd been apart. She felt so goddamn stupid. That anger was back, finding itself a new target and now she was starting to think that maybe it was time to get back into the ring.

“Lyv,” he lifted his hand to her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Don’t, okay? Don’t let that poisonous bitch get in your head – she’s as bad as her father was. Knows exactly where to shove the knife in for maximum damage.”

Nodding, Lyv put her arms around him and hugged him. “I know we're solid, Jax.” Exhaling, she thought about the person who had tweeted that garbage. “Someone needs to eradicate that bloodline. Once and for all.”

“Tear her apart. Cut off the head. Burn the ashes. Salt them. Fuckin’ scatter to the four corners of the universe – still wouldn’t be enough. That fucker will find a way to haunt me from beyond the grave until the day I die.” He let his fingers tangle in her hair as she pulled back from the embrace, only for his lips to find hers. The kiss was rough, the frustration they both felt brimming over.

It had been ages since he'd kissed her like that and all it did was ignite her fire for him. Once that kiss ended, Lyv pulled back but only so she could look in his eyes. Pressing her forehead against his, she fervently whispered a promise. “I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna fucking end her.”

Without saying another word, Lyv went in for another kiss and then pulled Jax down on top of her as she laid back on the bed. In that moment, she stopped caring about Gorgo’s motivations or her husband’s soft spot for Marisol Vilaro. The only thing that mattered was how much she needed this – needed him. There might be salt in those old wounds, but for both of them right now, the pain was a catalyst for something else. They found solace in that union, in the way their bodies merged and molded together without a thought, as if that was how it was meant to be. No apologies. No regrets. 

To hell with everything else.