Mafia's Ex Wife

Chapter Two

Jax

Four years.

Four years since Lizzie slapped me with divorce papers, walked out of my life and disappeared without any kind of explanation.

Four years of trying to figure out what I'd done wrong, wondering what I could have done to make her stay, and second guess every decision I made where she was concerned.

Four years of listening to my mother go on and on about how she always knew Lizzie wasn't good enough for me, how much better off she thought I was now that she was gone, and how she never liked her anyway.

Four years with a revolving door of women, searching for anything at all that made me feel half as alive as Lizzie did, trying to get over her and trying to forget how good we were together.

Four years without a word. A phone call. A fucking messenger pigeon. Not a thing.

Four fucking years.

Yeah, I've had a long time to think about this moment and imagine what it would be like to see her again, but when Lizzie appears at the top of the stairs, it's clear I could have had an eternity and never been ready.

You'd think that after all this time, this would be easy. That I could walk in here, demand what I want, and be on my way. That I wouldn't let her get to me, wouldn't let her wreck me like she used to, wouldn't let her catch me with my guard down. But one look in those deep brown eyes and it all comes flooding back.

Seeing her stirs a storm of emotions in my mind--anger and passion right at the top of that list-- and I'm almost afraid to open my mouth. I've never been described as polite or restrained, and I know if she pushes my buttons like she likes to do, I'll unleash on her. Years worth of anger and hurt and resentment will come spilling out, and that's the last thing I want. I need her, and there can be no screw ups here.

My timing couldn't be worse--or better, depending on how you look at. Lizzie was about to fuck this twat she calls a husband. That black sultry robe hanging off of her shoulder, big bedroom eyes and teasing curl of her lips. I've seen it all before. She used to use those same tricks on me and I wonder if he knows that. Does he even know who I am? It doesn't seem like it.

"Hi Lizzie."

"Jax." I've always loved hearing my name on her lips, but the look on her husband's face makes it even sweeter. I know he's a nice guy and he takes care of her, but he's got something that belongs to me, and his ring on her finger will never change that.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice is breathy as she comes down the stairs, holding the robe tightly around her body.

"I'm sorry it's late, and I should have called first." I turn on the charm, caging the inner beast that so desperately wants to come out and play. She's got me all out of sorts dressed like that, and my cock is losing sight of what's important here. "I just... I was hoping we could talk. It's important."

"Uh..." She glances to her husband, too stunned to speak.

"I'm Mike." He sticks his hand out. "Liz's husband."

Liz. That sounds so formal. So mature. Nothing like the girl I knew.

"I'm Jax. Her ex-husband." Ex still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

"Ah." He nods, putting the pieces together. "Why don't I give you guys some time then?"

Lizzie looks back at him as if she's afraid to be alone with me, and maybe she should be. Whatever the case, Mike doesn't pick up on her discomfort and he leans down and gives her a quick kiss before walking into the kitchen and leaving us alone.

Well, this could go down as one of the most awkward meetings of all time.

"We can go outside on the porch." Lizzie says, brushing past me. It's almost comical how she refuses to meet my eyes. I've always been good at reading her and maybe she hasn't moved on as much as she wants me to think.

There are two rocking chairs on her front porch, and she sits in one and I take the other. For a moment, it's quiet. She doesn't know where to start and I enjoy watching her squirm a bit, so I let it go on.

I feel like it's cruel to keep her on the edge like this, so I finally start. "Your house is... a lot."

Lizzie lets out a sharp laugh, her guard dropping just a bit. "Coming from a man who has a five hundred square foot closet."

"I guess I don't just mean your house. I mean all of this. The neighborhood, the picket fence, the husband in boat shoes... I wish I could say it suits you, but I kind of like the old version better." My eyes narrow at her, looking for the slightest bit of familiarity.

She presses her lips together. "What are you doing here, Jax?"

Right down to business, as usual.

"Emily is dead, Lizzie. She was murdered." Every muscle in my body tightens as I tell her the news. It's been months and it still feels surreal. My baby sister, beaten and left for dead right in front of her apartment. The message was meant for me, and she was caught in the crossfire.

"I know." Lizzie's face falls. She knows? She knows, and even then, she didn't reach out? "I read about it in the paper. I'm so sorry, Jax."

It surprises us both when she reaches over and sets her hand on top of mine, eyes filling with tears. She and Emily were as thick as thieves, and I know this hurts her just as much as it does me.

"I know who did it, but I need your help." I tell her, a heavy breath escaping my lips. Despite the tension between the two of us, I can't deny how much I need her.

She looks uneasy, and I know her mind has gone straight to the worst possible scenario. "With what, exactly?"

"You still have your law degree, right?" I already know the answer to that. I don't like showing up unprepared so I've done my research.

"Yes, but it's been years since I've..."

"That doesn't matter." I interrupt. "You're still the best lawyer I've ever known."

She arches her eye brow at me. "Why do you need a lawyer, Jax?"

"Come by the club tomorrow and I'll give you the details."

Lizzie swallows, glancing away. "Jax, I don't know.."

"Look, this is about Emily, and nothing else. I swear. I know you and I have our issues, but I figured we could put them aside if it meant helping her. I have no intentions of messing up your life here, Junebug. I just want to get justice for my sister."

Junebug. Lizzie's old nickname. Stage name, to be exact. It was off my lips before I even knew what I was saying, and the reminder makes her cringe.

She's gone to great lengths to hide her past, and if I'm being honest, it stings more than it should. I happened to love the girl she used to be, and it kills me to see what she's settled for. She thinks she's happy here, but I know better.

I don't tell her that, though. I meant what I said. If she wants to live in this blissful ignorance, that's on her, and I have no intention of taking that away from her.

The wild and fearless woman I fell in love with is long gone, and maybe that's for the best.

"See you tomorrow, Lizzie. You know where to find me." I swipe a kiss across her cheek before heading back to my Harley. The bike and I are both wildly out of place in this neighborhood and I can't get out of here fast enough.

"I didn't say I would come." She calls after me, flustered and unraveling right in front of me.

"I know." I glance over my shoulder. "But you will."