Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 158

He doesn’t look like he wants to, the storm still alive under his skin. But he doesn’t say another word. Just stands there, holding my hand like he’d break bones before letting go, and for once I don’t try to ease the silence that follows. It hangs heavy, a reminder of how the world still sees us.

By the time we make it to the cashier, I slide my card across the counter before Jax even thinks to reach for his wallet. He gives me that sharp look...half irritation, half habit, but I shrug, bagging the few things we picked up.

“Technically, these are mine,” I tell him, voice light but firm. “And as much as I’ve been enjoying the whole sugar-daddy routine, I’d like to think I’m still capable of paying for my own cereal.”

It earns me the faintest twitch at his mouth, but the look stays, simmering under the surface as we step outside. One bag between us, swinging casually at my side.

“If she were a guy,” Jax suddenly mutters, jaw tight, “I’d have broken his damn jaw.”

I let out a laugh, but it’s hollow, carrying no real humor. “Somehow I don’t doubt that.”

I still remember that guy at the gym. My smile thins. “But you can’t fight them all, Jax. There’ll always be some sanctimonious asshole choking on their own homophobia.”

He stops me mid-step, pulling me in, his mouth crashing over mine...deep, heated, like he’s trying to brand me right here on the sidewalk. When he pulls back, his voice is a growl against my lips.

“Next time anyone so much as looks at you like that, they’ll be leaving in a damn stretcher. I don’t give a shit if it’s some frail old hag, a punk kid with too much acne, or anyone in between.”

I circle my arms around his waist, pressing into him until his heartbeat is thudding against mine. “Wow,” I murmur, brushing a kiss against the corner of his lips, then another along his cheek. “How romantic. But I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me.”

“They’re not yours anymore,” he cuts back, quiet but lethal, his grip tight on me.

I study him, the storm that still coils in his chest, wound up and ready to break loose. “Just let it be, hmm?” I tell him softly, really meaning it. “It’s not worth the blood pressure, not when we’re out here in matching t-shirts and all.”

His eyes flash, sharp and burning, but I kiss him again, feather-light, hoping it diffuses some of that fire. For a second, the world shrinks down to the press of his chest against mine and the unshakable heat simmering between us.

We start walking again, the bag knocking lightly against my leg with each step. After a stretch of silence, I hear myself say, “I had a girlfriend once. At sixteen. Lasted maybe a month.”

Jax cuts his eyes toward me, brow furrowed. “Thought this was your first relationship.”

A low chuckle escapes me, soft and rueful. “It is. In every way that actually counts, it is. Back then... it wasn’t really her. It was me trying to prove something. Trying to convince myself I wasn’t gay. That I could—” I shake my head, a shiver slipping down my spine just remembering it. “God, even thinking about it now makes my skin crawl. It felt wrong. Like running a marathon with weights strapped to my chest.”

I let out a breath, staring straight ahead. “I don’t even know what I was so afraid of. My family would’ve loved me no matter what. But I wasn’t naive. I knew the world, knew how it grinds you down for daring to be anything outside the lines. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to stand against all of that.”

When I glance over, Jax is watching me, but he doesn’t say a word. Just listens. So I turn it back on him. “What about you? Did you always know?”

He shrugs, like I’ve asked about the weather. “Yeah, I guess so.” His mouth twists. “But I never cared what anyone thought, couldn’t afford to. When life’s already throwing punches, you don’t waste your time worrying about who you’re allowed to want. You pick your battles, mine was survival.”

Something in my chest tightens, so I tilt it lighter, crooked smile curving my mouth. “Tell me this, then. If I’d turned out to be devastatingly straight..... I’m talking obsessed with tits, jerking off to Sports Illustrated, bragging about how fast I can make a girl gag on my cock, real tragic kind of straight...what then? Would you still have watched me like you did? Or would you have actually given up?”

His eyes flick to mine, dark and burning, no hesitation in them. “I never planned on approaching you. Not even when I figured out you liked guys. But straight or not....” He shakes his head, a sharp exhale through his nose. “I don’t think anything would’ve stopped me. I’d have burned through every line you drew, broken down every wall, until you had no choice but to give in. I’d have done whatever the hell it took to get you.”

I scoff, a laugh slipping out, shaking my head at the sheer arrogance of it. Of him. “Confident, aren't you? Lucky for you, I'd have probably found your arrogance stupidly attractive either way.”

“I'm well aware, that's why I weaponised it.” he says, low and certain.

I squeeze his hand, grounding myself in that solid warmth. “No one else matters, Jax. Just us....that’s the only fight worth keeping.”

He finally cuts me a sidelong glance, smile curling slow and playful. “Not everything on your bucket list was disturbing. Maybe we ought to track down a movie theater tonight, cross at least one thing off that twisted list of yours.” His hand squeezes mine once, firm, like a secret punctuation. His brow arching suggestively.

The laugh that tears out of me is loud, unsteady with relief, and I don’t bother to rein it in. Jax’s eyes flick down, mouth twitching like he’s fighting his own grin, and finally the weight in my chest feels lighter.

I glance at him, and it hits me all at once how stupidly happy I am. Because he’s here. Because it’s him, and every step beside him feels like it fills something I didn’t know was hollow.