Page 106 of Storm and Tempest

Amara swung around to him. “What kind of farce is?—”

Roberts swung around and punched her in the face. Amara dropped to the floor, crying out with her hand to her cheek.

Jax’s stomach clenched. “Enough!”

He couldn’t let on that she might be on his side, though. It had to be purely because this guy had hit a woman.

“Yeah?” Roberts pointed his gun at Bruce, talking to Jax when he said, “Turns out the only one I need isyou, and even that is debatable. Means I don’t need this guy.”

“We all have orders to follow.” Jax shifted and stood, leaving Ramon clutching his gunshot wound. “But that doesn’t mean anyone needs to die. Everyone has their uses, don’t they?”

His friend was out of this fight. Ramon needed help, and Jax needed to not have to tell Kenna he had been killed. Okay, fine—he didn’t want to lose the guy. He needed to make a good case.

“Killing too many people will draw attention to you,” Jax continued.

Roberts’ lips curled up. “But it’s fun.”

Someone slammed into Jax from behind, shoving him forward so that he hit the ground. Before he could get back up, the guy stepped on the back of his shoulder and with a hand grabbed Jax’s elbow.

Someone cried out.

Maybe it was him. Or one of the others.

The fire that erupted in his shoulder told him that all the healing he had done so far was being undone.

Eventually he passed out.

He didn’t know how long it was before he woke up. Face smashed against cold metal, the smell of rust and dirt all around him. The temperature in here far colder than it had been before.

He shivered and found his hands now secured in front of him. His feet had been tied together as well, which meant moving wasn’t going to be easy. As soon as he was… Soon as he could process through the situation… He’d take stock of what weapons he still had on him.Come on, think.

He’d gone full Kenna, hiding weapons all over him, hoping that if they found a few, they would stop before they discovered the rest.

Jax used his left elbow to shove himself up. His right shoulder was almost twice the size on the front side, and he had to fight to push his awareness of the pain to the back of his mind.

Nausea snaked up his throat.

Yeah, he couldn’t ignore this pain.

Jax leaned over and deposited the last thing he’d eaten on the floor beside him. He leaned back against the wall, and when he looked around, he discovered he was in a shipping container.

“Did you just barf?”

“Bruce?” Jax looked around and found the guy in a heap on the far side. “You okay?” He wasn’t going to admit he’d just thrown up.

The older man groaned and moved his legs, but didn’t sit. “I’d get up, but it sounds like effort.”

“What did they do?”

“What didn’t they do? Apparently, Samuel Chistane was a friend of theirs…and that asset sent to take him out. Real close neighborly type friendship between the two of them and these guys up here. Guess I was due for some payback.”

“A friend?”

“Or the kind of boss they worshiped like he was a cult leader.” Bruce coughed, and it turned into groaning. “That’s who these people are. Blindly following their superiors because that’s what they’ve been conditioned to do. I’d rather think for myself.”

Jax waited until he was done with his whole rant, then said, “How long was I out?”

“Hours, days—who cares.”