Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 172

We end up in that alley, the one where I first saw him, where I told him I liked him for the first time as well. Memories of it should feel lighter, maybe even warm, but all I see now are the bruises covering him. The tension in his shoulders, the way he tucks his hands into his pockets like he’s trying to hold himself together, it twists my chest.

I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, keeping my distance, but I can’t stop looking. Can’t stop feeling anger and frustration tangled together in this knot that only he could pull tighter. Jax stops in front of me, close enough that I can’t look anywhere else. Close enough that I can’t pretend he’s not at risk, even though I can see he’s standing strong.

He reaches toward me, hesitates, then retreats, hands disappearing into his pockets. I hold his gaze. “Who threw the first punch?” I ask. My voice is even, but there’s an edge there.

He frowns. “Why does that matter?”

“Just answer.”

His shoulders shrug, jaw tight. “They did, they hit Nate first.”

I nod once, then look away, tasting the bitterness of frustration on my tongue. I let the silence stretch a beat too long before he frees a hand and presses it to my jaw, tilting my head so I have no choice but to meet his eyes again.

I blink, my pulse spiking. Holding his gaze, I let him see me the sharp edge of something I can’t fully articulate. “Jax,” I start, letting each word fall into the space between us. “I’m trying to build a life with you. Something real, something solid. Something that doesn’t crumble because the next fight is waiting around the corner.”

He swallows, and I see the flicker of it, his chest tightening, the small widening of his eyes as if the weight of what I’m saying is pressing on him like lead.

“I can’t.... I just can’t see how that happens if you keep throwing yourself into this,” I say, voice quieter now, almost breaking. My hands clench at my sides. “And I need you to know, there will come a time when I have to make you choose. Between that place and me. For good. And right now, I really don’t know if I’ll win.”

The words are heavy. I can feel him absorbing every ounce of it, his body tensing, his gaze softening just enough to let me see the part of him that wants to fight with me, but also the part of him that knows how much he can lose.

The air between us feels alive. I shake my head and the world narrows to the two of us. Jax takes a small step toward me, and I let my arms fall from where they’re crossed, my hands hanging useless at my sides. The mood between us feels electric, tight and dangerous.

“You think I choose this?” His voice cracks, anger bubbling under the surface. “You think I fucking enjoy this?”

“Then stop,” I say, too fast, too desperate. Like a plea disguised as an order.

He shakes his head, jaw tight, eyes flashing. “It’s not that simple.”

“It can be,” I shoot back. “It is. But you have to let it. You have to be open to change, Jax. You have to actually want it. There’s a whole world outside of this...other options, better ones, but you’ve convinced yourself that getting hurt is the only way to cope.” I can hear my voice tremble, not with fear but with the weight of truth. “And that’s not okay. It’s not noble. It’s....” I exhale sharply, my throat closing around the word. “It’s concerning. You’re hurting yourself and pretending it’s purpose. And I love you too much to– ”

His head snaps up. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t make me choose,” he bites out, voice cracking under the weight of something raw and buried. “You’d understand that I need this! I fucking do, Xander!”

A bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Now you’re the one guilt-tripping,” I mutter, the sound hollow even to my own ears.

Our eyes lock, and it’s like being dragged into a current I’ve been pretending not to feel. There’s something behind his.....something dark, fractured, and I’ve been avoiding it, pushing it down every time it tried to surface. But right now, it’s clawing its way up, refusing to be ignored.

“This is about him, isn’t it?” I say.

He frowns, shoulders tensing. “Who?”

“You know who,” I bite out. “Andrew.”

The name hits like a punch. His jaw tightens, his breathing shifts. He looks away, his hand dragging through his hair like he’s trying to tear the thought out of his head.

“See?” I say softly. “Someone can’t even say his name without you coming apart.”

He starts pacing then stops mid-step, turns to me, eyes storming.

“What are you punishing yourself for, Jax?” My voice drops, quieter, almost a plea. “Because that’s what this is. You’re not fighting to feel alive, you’re fighting to hurt. To pay for something you think you did....or didn’t do. And instead of letting it go, you keep carving it deeper.”

The silence between us stretches, thick with everything he won’t admit and everything I already know.

“Stop,” he finally mutters, shaking his head like he’s trying to shake me off with it.

“Stop what?” I ask, taking a half-step closer. “Stop trying to help you?”

His eyes meet mine, burning. “No. Stop trying to fix me like I’m some broken machine you can rewire, or a fucking stray you’re trying to train out of biting!”

The words hit, heavy and unfiltered, catching me off guard. He looks at me like I’ve cornered him. For a second, I just stand there, staring at him, trying to piece together what I heard.....what he meant. And when it sinks in, it hurts. It burns slow, from my chest outward.

“That’s how you feel?” My voice is quiet, but it cuts through the silence. “Like I’m trying to fix you? That’s what you’ve been feeling this whole time?”

He shakes his head instantly, mutters a curse under his breath, low and sharp. “That’s not what I meant,” he says, voice cracking around the edges.

“It sounded like it was,” I answer, barely above a whisper.