Page 8

Chapter Eight

Jax

All Jackson Delacroix wanted to do was decorate the new house to make it homier for the holidays. He’d bought a Norfolk pine tree from a Boy Scout’s tree lot not far from the stadium, and he was excited to make things more festive for his partners.

Jax wasn’t expecting it to look like the fancy store windows on Michigan Avenue, but he wanted lights and color, even if it wasn’t designer. He’d plan better next year but was confident they’d get through the holidays with a festive flair.

It was more than he’d had growing up, but his parents concentrated on paying their bills, not on frivolous things like Christmas decorations or even gifts. He didn’t hate them for his childhood. They did the best they could with what they had at the time.

When Stan and Sam showed up to announce the Clark Street Shelter had been shut down by the police, Jax was stunned. From what he’d observed, he thought the building inspector would have shut it down first, but the cops? He had no idea why.

“This has my father written all over it.” Cade paced the family room where the fire was burning brightly in the fireplace and the twinkling lights on the tree offered a festive atmosphere, regardless of how unwelcome it might have been in that moment.

Jax wasn’t about to let their first Christmas be ruined. He had some pull, for God’s sake. “Okay, let’s get in the car and go down to the neighborhood to look for the boys. We’ll bring ‘em here. We have plenty of room. They might not be sleeping in beds, but I can remedy that tomorrow, and look, you can be home for Christmas with us.”

He turned to Stan. “Find a lawyer who specializes in family law and get Benny and Jake out of whatever the fuck group home they were pushed into. They’re cool guys, so let’s not lose them.”

Jax turned to Ash and Cade with a smile. “Well, get your coats. We’ve got things to do.” Neither hesitated and soon they were rolling through the neighborhood, searching for the boys.

“ Stop! ” Ashton yelled as they slowly drove down the street in front of the shelter. Jax saw five young men standing over a subway grate in front of an empty building with boarded up windows.

“That’s them.” Cade dashed out of the Hummer, running over to the group to see if they were okay.

Jax turned off the vehicle and looked in the rearview at Ashton. “Your dad so hard-hearted he’d have kids turned out on the streets in December just to prove a point?” It was unfair to ask the young boy the question, but Jax needed to gauge the evil coming their way.

Ashton reached up and dried his eyes with his fingers and returned the gaze in the mirror. “He’d do it without any guilt at all. He sent me to boarding school when I was eight, and he was prepared to send me to England to an all-boys boarding school where they would try to beat the queer out of me. As if that would make me straight.” The kid laughed, but tears rolled down his face.

Jax felt bad, so he hopped out. “Okay. Let’s help Cade load ’em up.”

He popped the tailgate on the Hummer and pushed the button to bring up the third-row seating. Once everyone was inside the vehicle, Jax grinned and turned to them. “I hope you’re all Chicago fans because you’re going to the game tomorrow, and you better root your asses off for the home team.”

He could tell the young men didn’t know what to say or do, but it was okay. They were safe. That was the most important thing.

Jax sat on the leather couch in the great room and watched the group of young men decorate the tree. They’d popped popcorn, and Cade’s brother, Ashton, had found the thread and a needle somewhere. Music was playing over the sound system, and Cade was in the kitchen making cocoa.

They’d tried to stop by the shelter to rescue the food Bev had prepared to tide them over the holidays, but there was a Condemned sign nailed to the front door and a lot of police tape cordoning off the property.

Stan told Jax he’d called Kenneth Shaw’s cell phone, but the man hadn’t answered. Jax doubted he’d ever be heard from again because there was something shady about the whole thing. He believed the man to be a crook and needed to find out more about him before any more surprises turned up.

There was some good news, however. Benny called his mother’s sister who agreed to take him in. She’d told Roberta Stubbe she had no idea what had happened to the boy because she and her sister didn’t speak.

Roberta was able to get Jake into a good, temporary foster home for the holidays until a better situation could be found in the new year. The lucky thing was it wasn’t far from where Benny’s aunt lived so the boys could still see each other.

When Roberta had called Cade to tell him the turn of events, Jax saw the younger man wipe away some tears. It reminded him how compassionate Cade was, and Jax vowed to make certain nothing ever happened to change him.

“Who wants hot chocolate and cookies?” Cade walked into the room with a smile. The boys all took off for the kitchen, nearly trampling Jax in his seat on the couch. It made him laugh as they good-naturedly shoved each other to get to the food first. Jax had a feeling their holidays were about to get a lot more exciting.

He followed them into the kitchen and lined up for his own cup of hot chocolate, seeing Cade had found the cookies Miss Winnie had made for them. Cade was spreading them onto a baking sheet to heat in the oven, and the expressions on the boys’ faces melted Jax’s heart.

“How about we go sit in the living room and give Cade a fighting chance to get this ready for us. I have plans in mind for tomorrow, and I’d like to hear how you feel about them,” he said.

The boys, including Ashton, followed Jax into the family room, sitting on the couches, chairs, and the floor. “Okay, my game starts at noon tomorrow, so I’ve hired a bus to pick up all of you at nine and bring you to the stadium to meet some of the players before the game. The club room I requested should have brunch, so you can eat there.” Jax scanned the faces, seeing nods and happy grins.

“Good. After the game, we’ll come back here and have dinner. We might not have gifts, but we can swim and play games downstairs. We have a fitness room and there’s a hot tub and a sauna. Since we can’t get you guys trunks, you’ll all wear your underwear. No funny business, okay?”

Jackson damn well wasn’t looking to be in the headlines for having young guys running around the property naked as if it was ancient Rome and he was Caligula. That was the last damn thing he needed.

They all nodded in agreement, which was a relief. It occurred to him he didn’t know their names, so it was time for formal introductions. “Gentlemen, I’m Jackson Delacroix. Who are you and how old are you?” He walked up to the first young man.

The guy was short with dark eyes and tanned skin. His hair was spiky on top while it was shaved on the sides and back. Jax wasn’t about to judge his ethnicity, nor his sense of style. “I’m Kevin Ngu. Eighteen. I was working day labor and living at Clark Street, trying to get my life on track after my father kicked me out.” The young man offered his hand.

“Kevin, it’s a pleasure.” Jax shook the firm hand. The kid had muscles. Jax was judging him to be like an ant—able to carry about ten times his own weight.

He turned to the tall white kid with strawberry-blonde hair standing next to Kevin. The young man had light green eyes, and Jax felt a kinship, having gone through the same awkward stage at one time. Of course, he was in junior high at the time, but he could offer the kid some empathy.

“I’m Vance Blake, sir. I was just kicked out in September when I turned eighteen. I’d like to finish my senior year of high school, but that doesn’t seem likely. I was working part-time as a cater-waiter for a restaurant downtown before they sold the business, and I lost my sleeping situation. I was sharing a studio with a guy from work, but when I couldn’t pay my half, he tossed me out. I started working the streets after that. One of the older guys who came around with coffee and sandwiches to get us to go to his church told me about Clark Street.”

There was Josh, Greg, and Calvin, all of whom had similar stories. Thankfully, they were over eighteen so there wouldn’t be any issues with the authorities.

They’d been kicked out of their homes and were trying to get on their feet, turning tricks when they couldn’t find legitimate jobs. They’d ended up at Clark Street Shelter because the pastor at the Episcopal church up the street ran an outreach program for the sex workers in the area, giving out condoms and clean needles along with sandwiches and the promise of a hot meal if they’d come to Sunday service. The pastor had met them and referred the three to Sam Belew, who ran the shelter in Kenneth Shaw’s absence. Jax wanted to know how often Shaw was even there.

Jax walked into the bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed while Cade was entertaining the young men downstairs. He had plans to undo because he’d arranged to send gifts to the shelter for the boys, but with the shelter closed, he needed to redirect the gifts to their house on North Wayne Avenue.

He’d have to sort through them because the big screen television and gaming systems wouldn’t be needed since he already had that shit in his man cave. He’d call Tony O’Brien to ask for a favor he didn’t deserve. It was still early and maybe the man had one more empathetic bone left for Jax before he cut him.

“Hello? O’Brien residence,” a sweet voice answered. It was Tony’s little girl, Sylvia, he was sure. He’d seen pictures of her in O’Brien’s office, and she was a stunner at the age of eight.

“Good evening. This is Jackson Delacroix. I work for your father, and I was hoping to speak with him for a moment if he’s not too busy.” He tried to keep his voice as non-threatening as possible. No need to scare the little girl.

The girl giggled. “ Daddy! It’s the Cajun! ” Her yelling brought a grin to Jax’s face. He supposed he’d never live down the nickname.

There was a rustling over the handset before a masculine voice spoke. “Jax? What’s up, man?” It was Tony.

“I realize I’m on a short leash with the club because of prior bad behavior, but I put in a request for a box to host a group of kids from a shelter I sponsor with a few of my teammates. I didn’t get a response from the front office, so can you make a call? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and these kids ain’t got a lot else to look forward to for the holidays. It doesn’t have to be a big box, and I’ll order pizzas for the guys if it’s too late to get the brunch I requested.”

“Wait, is this that Clark Street Shelter we all sponsored?”

Jax was surprised by Tony’s question. “I didn’t realize you got in on it, but yeah, it is. The cops raided it this morning, calling it a brothel, which is just bullshit. Until we can talk to Ken Shaw, who’s not calling back, I’m not sure what to do.”

Jax wouldn’t stop there. “Meanwhile, I have five young guys at my house who I want to bring to the game tomorrow. Two kids who were kicked out of their parents’ homes were taken into custody by social services because they were underage. Something’s fucking fishy with all of this, Tony.”

Tony sighed heavily. “I’ll get the club’s lawyers to look into it. We took this on as a pet project, and I’m sure the front office has been keeping tabs on the progress. The shelter was just fine, last I heard, but we’ll get to the bottom of it, Jackson.”

Jax was relieved to hear someone was interested in those kids aside from him. Tony could get to the bottom of things a lot quicker than Jax could have hoped.

“I’ll contact Nora in the front office tonight to make sure it’s a priority for the box to be made ready for your guests. Those boys are more than welcome to come, Jax. You just make them proud on the field.”

Pleased with the news, Jax said goodnight to his boss and went into the great room. He noticed the boys were starting to get sleepy, which wasn’t a surprise. They’d eaten pizza earlier, so he was sure it was the inevitable crash after the carbs.

“Okay, we don’t have beds for you yet , but I can set you up in premium reclining chairs in the media room where you can sleep. It sure as hell beats sleeping on the floor, okay? We’ll get you in better accommodations as soon as we can. For now, it’s the best we have to offer. Ash, stop by the linen closet on the second floor and grab blankets and stuff.”

Ashton stood from his chair and grinned at all of them. “It’s great. Come on, guys. It’s a media room with a big-ass screen, for crap sakes.” The kid sounded like a tour guide.

Jax laughed as the five hurried off behind the thirteen-year-old pied piper. There were restroom facilities up there so they’d be comfortable. The logistics of having those young men staying at their home would be worked out if it took every penny Jax had to spend.

Jackson went to the kitchen to find Cade furiously scrubbing dishes as tears streaked his handsome face, watching for a moment to ensure he understood what he was seeing. When he had a grasp on the situation, Jax walked over to Cade, taking the dish towel from his shoulder to dry the plates and glasses they’d dirtied during the meal.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Jax began putting away plates. They had a top-of-the-line dishwasher, but his boyfriend had chosen not to use it. He didn’t dare question why.

“It’s my father. He did this, Jax, I just know it. He called in some favors and got the cops to come to the shelter to throw out those kids and put them on the street. He hates me and blames me for Ashton coming out at such a young age.” Cade sniffled.

Jax pulled him into his arms. “Aw, chère. How old were you when you realized you were gay?”

Cade sighed. “I guess I was about his age, but I didn’t act on it for several years. It took me some time to figure out how to process it, you know?”

Jax hugged him tighter and released a chuckle. “Sweet boy, he’s not acting on it, either. This whole clusterfuck isn’t because of anything you or Ash did. If this is your father’s fault, we can fight that together.”

“Not without fucking up your career.” Cade wrapped his arms around Jax’s neck and held on.

“Oh, now don’t worry about my career. This will be my last season. I’m going to skip free agency. I was going to wait to talk to you and Ford about it after the new year but now seems like a good time to go out on a high note.” He kissed Cade’s forehead.

He studied Cade as the young man took in the information. Finally, he nodded, and Jax exhaled. “We have a shot at the playoffs, and if we get there, I’ll leave it all on the field. We’ll talk to Branford when he gets home, but don’t you worry about anything affecting my career. I’ll be fine, chére.” Cade gave him a sweet smile and kissed his cheek.

After they were sure everyone was settled on the third floor, the two of them lay on the leather sectional in the great room, both staring at the tree.

“They tried to make it festive,” Cade pointed to the decorations that were less than perfect.

Jax hugged him. “It is, baby. It’s beautiful. Ford and I’ve never had a tree before, so I’m sure he’ll be surprised when he gets home. We need to talk about something important.”

Cade took Jax’s hand and placed it on his stomach over his shirt. “Okay, what?”

“Our life together. Have you considered the adoption thing? We mean no disrespect with the structure, but it makes the most sense, Kincade. Ford owns the club. He has investments, a trust, and we have this house. I have a lot of investments, and I’m looking to build a business after football. We can pay lawyers an assload of money to try to make everything fair and equitable if something happens to one of us, but it would be money wasted. If Ford and I get married, and we adopt you, we’re a family and everything is protected.” Jax squeezed him gently, kissing the back of his head.

“What if it turns out to be a mistake? You two can get a divorce, but it wouldn’t be easy to get rid of me if I was your adopted son.”

Jax rolled the two of them with Cade ending up against his body so they were eye to eye. “That’s exactly as it should be. Hell, I’m Catholic. We don’t even believe in divorce.” Jax pulled Cade closer to kiss him.

Their tongues slid together, first in Jax’s mouth then in Kincade’s. It felt incredible to have that piece of his heart back. He couldn’t wait for Ford to get home.