Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 109

“We couldn’t stay there anymore, so we left. Stole like fifty bucks from our foster sister’s room and took the first bus we could find. Didn’t even know where it was headed. Just… didn’t get off until the last stop. Ended up here. Seattle.”

My throat’s dry, words scraping out. “We slept on the streets for a while.”

Andrew’s face flashes in my head. He’d been so damn scared, curling up into himself on those nights, whispering he wanted to go back, that we wouldn’t make it. And me, lying through my teeth, telling him we’d be fine. That I’d figure it out. That I wouldn’t let anything happen to him. The memory scrapes deep, tearing at the inside of me. I let out a breath I don’t realize I’ve been holding.

Xander must notice, because he finally moves. Crawls up, draping himself over me, settling against my chest like he belongs there. His leg hooks over both of mine, his head tucks into my neck in that way that’s becoming too fucking familiar. Too necessary. I don’t want to admit how much I crave it, but I do.

“You must’ve been so scared,” he murmurs into my skin.

I close my eyes, hold him tighter, breathing in the scent of his hair.

“We looked around for work,” I say, voice muffled against his temple. “Anything. But no one was gonna hire two kids who looked like they’d been dragged through hell.”

His fingers twitch against my chest, and I go on. “Cash ran out quick. And I felt responsible. It was my idea to run. I was older...” I stop myself, because even now, the thought of how gentle Andrew was, how small, how fucking fragile, breaks me. “My friend...he needed me to protect him.”

Silence. Then Xander’s voice, quiet but insistent, “What did you do?”

I huff a laugh that’s nothing close to amused. “One night, I tried to steal from a convenience store. Grabbed whatever I could, bolted for the door. Didn’t make it far.” My lips twist into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Got caught by a couple guys before I even hit the street. Owner was still chasing me....he had a gun.”

Xander’s body goes rigid against me. His breath stutters, hold tightening as his head lifts, his eyes finding mine. That look in them, it’s too much. I have to glance away before it unravels me.

He swallows. “What... what did they do?”

I shrug like it’s nothing. “Roughed me up a little. Said they’d drag me to the cops.” The truth is worse, they broke my nose and it didn't stop bleeding for a while, but he doesn’t need to know that. I can still taste the copper of blood in my mouth from that night, hear Andrew’s voice trembling from when I'd told him to wait, that I’d be back. I was sure the cops were hunting us already after what went down with the foster mum's boyfriend. And those guys...I knew they weren’t fucking bluffing.

“But then…” I pause, stare at the ceiling. “These three guys showed up. Not that much older than me, though two of them looked like they were. They stepped in. Threatened to make shit ugly, said they’d tell the cops some creeps tried to assault them. Even offered to beat the hell out of each other to sell it.”

My lips curl faintly at the memory. “It worked. The guys let me go, pissed as hell.”

I run a hand through Xander’s hair, the strands still damp, clinging from sweat. He melts into the touch, and it almost makes my chest ache with how much I need him close like this. My voice comes out low when I speak.

“It was Nate and his two older brothers, Dorian and Kieran.”

The names still taste strange after all this time, like pulling ghosts into the room.

I let out a breath. “I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so I started scooping up what I’d dropped, ready to bolt. Thought they’d press, demand answers, but they didn’t. They let me run.” I pause, the memory vivid. “I went back to my friend, we’d been camping in some alley for some months by then. And not long after, those three showed up again. They’d followed me.”

The picture hits me hard, Andrew’s wide eyes, touching my bleeding face and asking me what had happened. Him shrinking back into himself when they showed up, whispering, ‘Who are they, Jax?’

“They looked around, asked if we’d been staying there. Wanted to know where our parents were.” My jaw tightens. “I told them we didn’t have any. Told them to fuck the hell off. But they didn’t leave. Dorian, the oldest...he got close. Looked us both over and said they weren’t going anywhere. That they weren't leaving us there either. Said it was either we followed them, or he called the cops and reported two kids living next to a dumpster and robbing corner stores.”

My lips twitch at the memory. “Nate, he was the youngest...he jumped in, swore they weren’t gonna hurt us. Said it so fucking innocent it was impossible not to believe him.”

I rub at my throat. “So we went. Followed them. Their dad had a restaurant, spare room in the back. The three explained everything to him. He was a big guy, looked mean as hell, but he wasn't..quite the opposite. He didn’t even ask questions, just showed us the room, had his sons bring us some of their clean clothes. Told us to shower. Then he had someone come fix my nose and fed us after.” My chest squeezes remembering it, the taste of real food after months of trash scraps. First real meal we’d had in forever.

I huff out a small laugh. “Afterwards, he said he needed help around the restaurant. Said his sons were useless, too busy picking fights and causing trouble in the neighborhood. Asked if we’d be up for it. And we didn’t even think about it. Clean clothes. A roof. Food. Even some cash. I guess everything kinda worked out.”

I pause, the thought turning sharp in my head. Everything worked out....for a while.

Xander’s lips press softly to my neck, grounding me. Then my cheek. His hand comes up, cupping my face, pulling me to meet his eyes. “What was his name?” he asks gently. “Your friend.”

The question punches through me. I hadn’t said it intentionally. Couldn’t remember the last time I let it leave my lips. For a second, I almost shake my head, almost bury it. But Xander’s holding me like I’ll break, looking at me with that quiet, unbearable gentleness.

And the word slips free. “Andrew,” I say. My throat feels raw. “His name was Andrew.” I repeat it, softer, like I’m trying to remind myself. Xander nods slowly, and I can see his mind working, something flickering in those eyes. Then he tucks his head back into my neck, voice quiet and cautious.

“I think I recognize Nate,” he says. “From that photo.”

My whole body goes still, my pulse spiking.

He shifts slightly, eyes searching mine. “Those two guys, they were his brothers?”

I hesitate, then hum low in my chest. “Yeah.”

He licks his lips, looks away, then back. His voice is almost hesitant. “And the other one? The one sitting close to you... was that Andrew?”