Mine

The Funeral

A/N: Sorry about the super late update. I know what I want to do with this chapter and yet I have no desire to do so at the moment so here's part of the update so you don't have to wait any longer.

The reverend is speaking gibberish to me. All around me are people dressed in black. I am in white. I am here to celebrate my parents life, not their death. I do not blame them for wearing what they are taught to where in times of grievance. However, I do blame them for their awkward glances and open staring at me and my choice of wardrobe. I don't know half these people and they sure as hell don't know me. My parents understood me and my need for change.

I stood out, mostly from the first row. I let the reverend speak, the choir sing, friends and other family members have their peace. I did not speak. To me, there didn't seem to be a point in bringing up the memory of my loved ones. I'd only feel sorry as I did now as they spoke. I'd want to cry. I do want to cry. My head aches so bad that all I want to do is scream and cry and yet I'm unable.

"Any more speakers," the reverend asks.

I hold my sides tighter. I'm hoping no one else wants to say a word. These are painful thoughts don't these people understand. I don't want to relieve happy thoughts when the real indisputable fact is my parents are dead and never coming back.

Beside me, Jax stood up. "I have a few words I'd like to say."

My head snapped up to meet his lightning orbs. He had come to New York with me to help me bury my parents. This whole week he's been by my side making me laugh when I wanted to cry, holding me when I needed to be held, and making my body scream when I desired. Dressed to the nines, in an all black suit complete with a black shirt and tie. It made the honey skin that showed, glow and his dark chestnut hair make him appear dangerous.

Jax had never met my parents. He didn't bother to look my way as he made his way up the steps to the stage and straight to the podium. I felt myself sit a little taller. A hand gripped mine; small, warm, and comforting. Rachel sat to my left. I had been squeezing her hand since we first walked into this place. She held my left arm close to her body. There was a strain, but I didn't care. I needed someone and although I had Jax next to me, Rachel and I were practically one half of one another.

My attention turned toward Jax standing  at the podium. "I met the Torrey's not too long ago at a charity dinner I put together. Mr. Torrey called for me after Alana had left the table. I went to him and greeted him like a gentlemen. His first words to me were, 'Cut the bullshit, what are your intentions with my daughter?'"

The crowd laughed, even I felt a smile threaten to form. My father was a straight to the point kind of guy. I had no idea that Jax spoke to him. He didn't even say a word.

"I gave him the answer I give anyone. 'Alana and I are friends.' He laughed and sighed telling me he wasn't born yesterday. I told him the truth to which he applauded me. I remember him telling me afterward, what are you still standing here for? I laughed and began walking away when he called me back. I turned around and he gave me a few words. 'My Alana's a spitfire, she's saucy, brilliant, loving, and one hundred percent stubborn. But once you love her there is no going back. He said, I can see you're already a goner.' Thank you."

My chest froze and constricted. What could Jax possibly mean? Did he love me? The two of us barely had make-out sessions. I glanced at Rachel to see her mind churning in the same fashion as mine. She had questions, wanting to know if Jax had made that extra step with me. I answered with a rose eyebrow which resulted in her confused glance and the two of us staring back up at Jax as he stepped from the stage.

On the bottom step, he went rigid. His gaze, once soft and understanding now appeared cold, distant, angry, possibly deadly.

I turned to see who had captured Jax's attention much like everyone in the funeral. Jax had that powerful presence. His mere appearance captures everyone's notice.

Dillon. The funeral was halway over and here was Dillon strolling up the middle aisle like he had not a care in the world. He didn't even seem sad that our parents were dead. He seemed almost relieved. I think that's when it all hit. Dillon had killed my parents for money. He was still their son. They had adopted him and Dillon had killed them.

I hadn't realized I moved from my seat until I stood in front of Dillon. He held his hand to his face, Jax's arms around my face, my right hand stinging from the pain. I had slapped him across the face. I'd caused a scene at my parents funeral. I've never felt more humiliated in all of my life. I hated Dillon's guts so much.

I broke from Jax's grasp or rather he allowed me to. I ran from the funeral and out the front doors. I was glad no one came rushing after me. They knew that I needed the air, the space, the overall room to breathe.

 I couldn't deal with this. I couldn't. Mom and dad are dead and Dillon is to blame. I could be wrong, but Dillon is the only one to benefit from their death. The only one or at least that's what he thought before our father left that tape leaving every single asset to me. He did it only because he couldn't trust Dillon's behavior.

Footsteps were fast approaching behind me, I took a deep breath. "Jax," I barely whispered.

"No," Dillon answered.

I turned around and glared at him. I certainly did not want to speak with him. "What do you want?"

"What is mine by right."

"You'd kill for what is yours, right?"

He smiled. "Would you?"

"Never," I answered.

Dillon nodded. "I'm going to do something a little out of character." I narrowed my eyes as he retrieved his phone from  the right inside pocket of his suit. I watched him do the motions with his hand while he searched for something. "Ah, here it is."

I didn't even need to ask what it was. Within a second, I heard familiar moans that came from my mouth. Dillon turned his phone to where I could see the film. It was of Jax and I at Fantasy Nightclub, the night he took my virginity and Dillon had it all on camera. Jax and I were in the throes of passion, him holding my thighs assisting in my rise and fall as I straddled him. Dillon had been close enough to catch skin on skin contact.

Heat rushed to my face as I scowled at him. "How did you get that? No electronics are allowed. When were you there? I never saw you."

Dillon smirked, he reached forward and attempted to caress my cheek, but I dodged his touch. He sickened me. "My dear sister, all you had to do was look closely. I donned some glasses, a horrible dark toupee, some contacts and a hat."

I swallowed. I attempted to check my memory, but I knew with Jax in the room I didn't care about anyone else and my mind sure as hell didn't bring anyone with that description into my thoughts. "What do you want?"

He ignored me. "And the camera, that is a standard mini camera disguised as a button on my suit. It's made with a different material so the alarms couldn't catch it nor could the guards.  I already told you what I want."

Fuck him. "Release the damn tape, Dillon."

"Tape," Jax interrupted, followed by Rachel who flanked him.

"Dillon has a tape of you fucking me from Fantasy. He says for me to give him what he's due or he'll release it."

Dillon moved out of the way as Jax stepped closer to us. He officially walked all the way to the other side of me. I couldn't hide my smile at realizing that Jax terrified him. "It's none of your concern, Carruthers. Everyone knows your with my sister to make a bigger name for yourself."

Jax smiled. "Ah, I see. So, if I say not to release the tape, you get what you want. If I say, do release the tape, you'll claim I said it because I want everyone to know about Loni and I, and you'll still get what you want."

Damned if he does and damned if he doesn't. Then it hit me. Jax called me Loni. I couldn't believe that not only had he basically confessed to loving me in the funeral. He just nicknamed me. I've never been nicknamed before. Loni didn't even sound like Alana.

"As Loni said, release the tape."

To be continued.................This is only half of the chapter