Debts and Desperation

The dining room was eerily silent except for the soft clinking of utensils against plates. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. Grace wasn't even sure how she had an appetite after everything that had happened tonight, but she pushed food around on her plate, pretending to eat. Jax, on the other hand, hadn't touched his.

He was staring at his hands, his jaw tight, his knuckles still raw from earlier. His body was tense, like he was bracing himself for something.

Grace watched him carefully, the questions in her head screaming for answers. She wasn't even sure where to start—there was too much. Sienna, the attack, those men—everything felt like a blur, yet it had only happened hours ago.

She set down her fork. "Who were they?"

Jax didn't look up. His fingers curled into fists on the table, his shoulders tightening even more.

Grace swallowed, keeping her voice steady. "Jax."

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "You don't need to know."

That response ignited something in her. After everything, after all of this, he was still shutting her out?

She shook her head. "No. You don't get to decide that." She leaned forward, her voice firm but not unkind. "You think I can just pretend this didn't happen? That I can unsee what I saw?" Her voice lowered. "Please. Just tell me."

Jax let out a slow, uneven breath, his fingers rubbing over his temples. He looked... exhausted. Defeated.

"They work for someone I used to know." His voice was hollow, like it hurt to say the words.

Grace frowned. "Used to?"

Jax swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "I cut ties. A long time ago."

The way he said it—the weight behind those words—sent a chill down her spine.

"Then why were they here?" she asked quietly.

Jax let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "Because some people don't like being left behind." His eyes flickered to her, and for the first time that night, she saw it—the fear buried underneath all that anger. "They think I owe them."

Grace's stomach twisted. Owe them what?

The question was on the tip of her tongue, but Jax shook his head, almost as if he knew what she was going to ask. "You don't want to know, Grace."

Her chest tightened.

She had never seen him like this before. Jax Riot—untouchable, arrogant, impossible Jax Riot—was breaking right in front of her.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Jax suddenly pushed back his chair and stood up. His breathing was uneven, his movements restless as he paced the room, dragging a shaky hand down his face.

Grace felt her throat close up as she realized what was happening. He was panicking.

"Jax," she said softly.

He ignored her, his hands shaking as he braced himself against the table, his back to her. His entire body was tense, like he was barely keeping himself together.

And then, before she could process it, she heard it.

A choked, broken sound.

He was crying.

Her chest ached at the sound. It was quiet, barely audible, but it shattered something in her.

Without thinking, she stood up and stepped closer. "Hey," she whispered.

Jax didn't move. He kept his head down, his breathing heavy and uneven. His shoulders shook slightly, and he let out another ragged breath, like he was trying so hard to keep it all inside.

Grace hesitated for half a second before reaching out.

The moment her arms wrapped around him, Jax let go.

He turned into her embrace, burying his face in her shoulder as his body trembled against hers.

Grace held him tighter. "It's okay," she whispered, running a hand over his back. "You don't have to—"

But she didn't finish, because she realized something.

Jax wasn't just crying.

He was breaking.

And for the first time since she met him, he wasn't trying to hide it.

Jax's breathing was uneven, his body still tense against Grace's. She held him tighter, her fingers gently tracing soothing circles on his back. She had never seen him like this before—so vulnerable, so broken.

His breath was warm against her shoulder, his grip on her waist almost desperate. Like he was afraid to let go.

Grace didn't say anything. She just let him have this moment, let him feel.

But as the minutes passed, she knew she couldn't ignore the obvious anymore.

"Jax," she whispered.

He didn't move.

She swallowed hard. "You need to tell me everything."

Jax exhaled shakily, his forehead still resting against her shoulder. "I can't."

Grace tightened her hold. "Yes, you can."

Silence.

And then—so quiet she almost didn't hear it—Jax muttered, "It was never supposed to get this bad."

Grace pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. His eyes were red, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.

"What was never supposed to get this bad?" she asked carefully.

Jax hesitated.

His fingers twitched at his sides, his breathing shallow.

And then, barely above a whisper—

"I owe them money."

Grace felt her stomach drop.

Jax let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "A lot of money."

Grace's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of what she had seen and what she had heard. The men, the threats, Jax's fear—

Oh god.

She took a step back, eyes wide. "Jax, what the hell did you get yourself into?"

Jax ran a hand through his hair, his breathing unsteady. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned away from her, bracing himself against the counter.

"They gave me stuff," he finally admitted, voice hollow. "A while ago. But I never paid them back."

Grace felt a chill run down her spine. "Stuff?"

Jax squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling through his nose. "Drugs, Grace."

Her breath hitched.

Jax's hands curled into fists. "I didn't even—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I barely touched it. It was just... it was supposed to help me. With the pressure. The stress. Everything."

Grace didn't realize she had been holding her breath until her chest started to ache.

Jax finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "But I stopped. I swear I stopped." His voice was raw, desperate for her to believe him. "I haven't taken anything in months."

Grace searched his face, looking for any sign of a lie.

She didn't find one.

"But they don't care," Jax muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor. "All they care about is their money."

Grace's throat felt dry. "How much?"

Jax hesitated.

"Jax," she pressed.

He let out a slow breath. "Fifty grand."

Grace felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath her.

She stared at him, expecting him to laugh, to tell her it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

But he didn't.

Because it was that bad.