Chapter 49 - Jaxon's Origin

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-Jaxon's POV-

Sunday morning I woke up in Ava's room, but she wasn't there. Every muscle in my body ached as I dragged myself out of bed and to the bathroom. I splashed my face with cold water, then assessed my injuries from yesterday. The boss had beat my ass last night; the bruising all over my rib cage, back, arms, and legs made that evident. My head was throbbing, but I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol I had or concussion. My lower lip was covered in dried blood, and there was a small gnash on my forehead. I was sore, exhausted, but most of all disappointed in myself for losing the race.

I heard the bedroom door creek, and Ava appeared in the room holding a glass of water. "Here" she motioned for me to take it.

"We need to talk" she muttered. I took the glass from her, trying to get her to make eye contact, but she wouldn't. She turned away from me, closing her bedroom door. "Just so you know, I told Melissa you got drunk at a party and needed a place to crash. She isn't too happy about you spending the night but-" Ava sighed, shaking her head. "Whatever, that doesn't matter right now."

I sat down on her bed and watched as she fiddled with her fingers. Finally, she turned her head, looking directly into my eyes. "I was open with you, so I need you to do the same with me" she said. "Please don't lie to me, and don't try to skew your story. I want to know what is going on with you. I know that you're in a gang, so just tell me why. Does anyone else know? What about Gray, you said you meant to text him last night."

I shut my eyes, inhaling a deep breath. There was no use in holding anything back anymore.

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July 15th, 2002 was the day Valen and Corinna Marvel welcomed their second son into the world. According to my mom, I was named after her father, who was no longer with us. I never met any of my grandparents, they all passed away years before I was born. I can't tell you that I remember too much from my early years. I only remember people, such as my parents who hardly seemed to be around, my older brother Syler, Esther the housekeeper, and our chef at the time.

Our chef's name was Tyson Forrest, and he had a kid my age that he would bring to work all the time. That kid's name was Grayson, and little did I know he would become my best friend for life. Esther took care of Gray and I all day, then Syler too when he would return home from school. In the evenings Gray's dad would feed us all dinner, then he and Gray would leave for the day. My parents didn't travel as much back then, but they were both still gone a couple weeks at a time, and neither Syler or I spent much time with them.

When I started kindergarten I hated it. I didn't care to learn, and I was told I caused a lot of issues in the classroom. Apparently I acted out a lot, and my teacher emailed my parents. One night when my mom was actually home she spent hours ranting about how terrible of a kid I was. "Why can't you be more like Syler? Syler never acts up. I'm fed up with receiving emails about your horrible behavior!"

Fortunately for me, Gray was in my class, which I can honestly say was the only reason I made it through each day.

The rest of elementary school was nothing to complain about. Gray and I stuck together, plus I always had my brother for support. My parents started taking more jobs out of state, so they were gone more and more. I would never admit it out loud back then, but I felt happier when they were gone. Their presence always brought the mood down, for my father hardly talked to me, and my mom talked too much, always ranting about how "irritating" I was. I decided from a young age that I liked Esther more, for the woman practically raised my brother and I, and was never cruel.

When we entered sixth grade, Gray and I were the shortest, lankiest guys in our grade. We didn't do sports, we weren't active at all really. We loved video games, so we spent most of our free time after school kicking virtual ass. The two of us were so close that we rarely made new friends. We didn't think having other friends mattered, for we had each other.

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