Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 155

“It must’ve been scary,” I murmur after a long beat. My voice feels rough in my throat. “Even if you weren’t scared. It had to be. Just, the weight of it. Waking up every day and knowing where you were. That it was all real.”

He exhales slowly, lids lowering halfway. “I hardly remember most of it. My head was fucked. I got out eventually, didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. Didn’t know where to start. And Adam...he’d already been released. Went off somewhere to.... fix himself, I guess. He hired me to keep an eye on Layla. Watch over her. Some other jobs too. He had the cash.” Jax pauses, shoulders rolling with the memory. “But I still needed something else. So I went to The Pit and asked for a job, Sam gave me one.”

His voice dips lower, like the shadows are pulling at it. “Those years were a blur too. Most days I didn’t feel alive. Most nights....I didn’t want to be.”

A sound leaves me, small and broken, like air rushing out of something cracked open. I pull him tighter against me, as if I can hold the weight for him, strip it from his shoulders with just my arms.

And then his voice shifts. Softens, even as it cuts. “But then I saw you.”

My chest stutters.

“I’d been checking up on Layla like Adam asked. And then one morning, I saw you walking toward the shop.” He turns his head to look at me now, and the heat in his eyes pins me in place. “First time I’d ever seen you, thought you were a client. But then you didn’t leave until lunch time with Addy and Layla. I realized you worked there.”

The memory jolts me. My first day, the nerves, the excitement. The way everything felt new, like stepping onto a stage. And apparently Jax was out there somewhere, watching. The thought sends a strange, dark thrill right through me, tightening in my gut.

And he’s still watching me now, gaze unwavering. “I’d fought twice the night before. Was hungover, felt like shit....like always. But then you walked up that street....” His voice lowers, rough and raw in my ear. “And for the first time in years, it didn’t feel so heavy. You dimmed it. Took the edge off the ache in a way nothing else ever did.”

The words gut me. Simple and brutal. I swallow hard and press my face into his chest, trying to breathe through the rush in my veins, but it’s useless. I feel cracked wide open, undone by the fact that I was his first flicker of light.

His hand is warm against my chin, firm but careful, like he’s testing how far I’ll let him go. He angles my face up, and I don’t fight it. His eyes pin me in place, and then he gives me this subtle smile that punches the air from my lungs.

“I guess you could say that was where my obsession with you began,” he murmurs, voice almost amused.

The word hums in my chest like a struck chord. He says it like a confession and a claim. He goes on, steady. “I didn’t understand what it was. Why I was so drawn to you. But I was.”

I force a smile, tilt my head, make it sound like a joke. “So you, what....stalked me and shit?”

His guilty smile is all the answer I need. It’s there and gone in a flicker, but it brands itself into me all the same. My eyes widen slightly, I wanna mess with him a little about it but don't.

This time when I sit up, he lets me. And I almost wish he didn’t. Because the words in my chest feel heavy, and my tongue is raw with the weight of them. There’s one question clawing its way up my throat, and I hate it. Hate how it tastes like fear. Hate how much I need the answer.

He’s watching me closely, eyes keen, patient....waiting. And I break. My voice scrapes out low and hesitant. “Did you love him?”

Something deep flickers in his eyes. It guts me to even see it. He shifts, slow, like every move is buying him seconds, and then he sits up too, turning to me. His voice is careful when it comes, like he’s laying each word down between us with the precision of a blade.

“You mean...” His eyes search mine. “Are you asking if I was in love with him?”

I swallow hard, bitterness and shame clawing my insides. It feels selfish, so fucking petty, but I nod anyway. Because I need to know, even if it makes me the worst version of myself.

He leans back against the headboard, his gaze drifting somewhere I can’t follow. His voice is quieter now, threaded with something that feels like loss. “I cared deeply about him. I’d dedicated myself to protecting him. Because he needed it.” He pauses, jaw tightening. “He was....broken.”

The word sticks in my throat. My eyes narrow without me meaning to. “Broken how?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing against my chest, making it harder to breathe. Then, with visible effort, he forces the words out, eyes skittering away from mine.

“He just seemed sad. Almost all the time. Except when he was with Joe, or sometimes with me.” He shrugs, but it’s brittle, like it costs him something. “Most of the time he’d just...” he trails off, the words scattering, leaving him and wordless.

When his gaze finally meets mine again, it’s like being hit with a weight I can’t carry. Pain is carved into the lines of his face, sitting heavy in his eyes, and it’s almost too much.

“He never talked about it,” he goes on, voice thick. “Whatever it was that haunted him. I asked once. He just looked at me and smiled. That same sad, broken smile of his.” He swallows, his throat working hard. “So I never asked again.”

There’s a silence between us now, and I feel it crackling, tearing me open. He takes a breath, presses on.

“I figured it was....you know, the usual with kids in the foster system. You never know who you’ll get placed with. What kind of smiling monsters you’ll be stuck with.” His jaw clenches. “ Or maybe something had happened before he was placed in the system....I’ll never know for sure. All I knew was that I came to care for him. And maybe....in a way, I loved him. Even if I didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like back then.”

The ache in my chest burns, bitter and jealous and small. But before I can let it rot me out, he moves. His hand comes up, brushing the back of his fingers gently across my cheek, like I might shatter under the weight of anything more. His voice is quiet, but it thrums straight through me.

“But now I do.” His eyes lock on mine. “Now I know. And this?” His thumb ghosts along my jaw. “What I feel for you? It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever felt before.”

The words steady me, like cool water over raw skin. But they cut too, sharp and merciless. The knowledge that he means every syllable soothes like comfort I’ve never known, and twists like a knife I’ll never want to pull free.

I steady my breath, looking him in the eye. “I’m not in the business of making empty promises,” I tell him quietly, every word pulled from someplace deeper than I’ve ever gone. “But I can promise you this....I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

For a beat, there's silence. Then Jax’s mouth tilts, that slow smile that feels like it carries the weight of something unspoken. His voice comes out like it’s dragged straight out of his chest. “You’re already doing that, Xander. Every damn day, without even trying, you make me feel lighter than I have in years.”