Chapter Text
“So, Jax. I’ve noticed, and not for the first time, that the work you keep for yourself doesn’t…get done?”
Caine spoke through the shower’s speakers, killing Pink Floyd’s The Wall and ruining the start of Jax’s day. Forget that it was noon.
“Can I mute you from here?” Jax wiped his wet, furry face, squinting to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. The glowing, high-end speaker only had skip, pause, and volume buttons. “I really didn’t mean to give you shower access.”
“I need only A SECOND of your time! Just enough time for you to ehhh, howsabout, permit me to run the entire organization?”
“Dude, this again?” You forget why Dad had me?
It wasn’t so Jax would hand the reins to an ugly, yellowed, 2000s computer, even if the computer happened to be a magical artifact Jax’s dad had turned into an assistant manager. As highly as Caine thought of himself, he was still only a tool.
Jax pressed the decrease volume button.
Caine spoke faster as he got quieter. “Just so everything stops getting bottlenecked! You know, when it was your dad, we kinda worked at the same time, and that let us get a lot done, and it was really cool, and…”
Zero. Bye, asshole. Jax couldn’t care less about the organization’s glory days before his dad’s death.
The water pattered, a far more relaxing sound than Caine’s showman’s voice (Jax had never figured out why he sounded like that, but that was magic for you; bullshit fucking whatever).
Unfortunately, Caine was definitely still lingering around, watching and listening through his connections to Jax’s devices—creepy, needling hunk of metal and plastic, haunting Jax from the office thirty miles away.
“You know, Caine, I hope a moth lays eggs in you,” Jax said. Caine was seriously afraid of that, too. “I work all the time. What are you even complaining about? That I sleep once in a while? I’m NOT giving you my job.”
He wrapped up his shower and dug luxury sweats from his dresser. He got one leg into them and paused, surveying the dirty loungewear covering his bedroom floor.
When WAS the last time I went to work?
He’d been working a lot from his phone; translation: people pestered him all day, and once in a while, he picked up. Had someone complained to Caine about him?
I bet it was Pomni.
Jax had blown her off all last night. She wanted his thugs to get info from a lawyer, but Jax had everyone working on higher-priority stuff. The lawyer had a client who’d been moving in on Jax’s predatory lending territory, blah blah.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything, from the littlest to the most significant parts of his role, and his staff could tell.
But what else would he be doing? If Jax weren’t in charge of this, he’d soon be behind bars or in the ground. Like it or not, the doors to anything that wasn’t running Dad’s organization had closed to Jax the day he was born.
It probably was time to work for a bit...
I’ll knock something out fast to show my face. Then he’d have Pomni hire a lady for him to plow while he partook of a bag of Sour Patch Kids and recovered from doing work. Remember to tell her, huge tits.
Jax tossed his comfortable clothes on the bed and dragged out a dark green, pinstriped suit. His guys were busy, but he and Zooble could intimidate a lawyer.
Easy job, appearance made, back to enjoying the fruits of nepotism. What could go wrong?
✤✤✤
“Call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk about my case.”
Beep.
“Ragatha, can we talk? I know you’re avoiding me. I just want to meet up for drinks, babe. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. We can talk everything out. I wanna give us another chance.”
Beep.
“Your father and I need money. We’re not asking for a lot. If you were a good daughter, you’d help the people who raised you instead of leaving us desolate like the ungrateful brat you’ve always been.”
Beep.
“Damn it, I said to give me a call. You agreed to take this case, you can’t just drop me like garbage! I’m going to—”
Beep. ‘No more messages.’
Ragatha sighed as her office voicemail clicked off. Delete, delete, delete, delete.
She was drowning in casework, and she refused to allow these messages to add to that stress. Not if she could help it.
Already having missed half the day’s work due to a disagreement with her landlord, she tossed her bag onto the professional-looking couch in the room's corner and decided to get to work. She’d bought the couch to make her clients feel more comfortable when they came to her office. She thought it gave off a cozy, welcoming vibe. It barely fit in the small space, but it worked. Between the couch, her desk, some filing cabinets, two chairs, and one potted plant by the tiny window, it was a tight squeeze. Eventually, she’d save up enough to get a bigger office.
Now, to focus on what was really important.
Ragatha began answering the numerous emails she’d accumulated over the past week. Though her law practice was small, she’d amassed a steady clientele that she was grateful for. It paid the bills and left enough for her to start a savings, at least. She was used to doing things on her own. Putting herself through college, then law school, before climbing her way to a steady income was no different.
There was just one small problem: the client she’d dropped last week—Mr. Red—hadn’t stopped contacting her.
It was within her right to drop a client. It was in every contract she drew up and had people sign when she met with them for the first time. The only issue was that this client was persistent, and he didn’t seem capable of taking no for an answer.
Red was bad business. He was involved in seedy dealings that Ragatha wanted no part of. She’d learned things she probably shouldn’t have, and it was time to break away while she was still able to. She wasn’t about to sacrifice the integrity of the business she’d worked so hard to build. If he didn’t understand, then that was his problem. He'd known the rules when he signed the contract.
Two hours had passed before she’d finally cleaned up her inbox. Her coffee sat cold and half empty by her laptop. She stood up to stretch, thinking about what she might order for a late lunch, when she heard a car roll to a stop outside.
✤✤✤
Outside the law office, Jax stepped onto a small, cracked parking lot and stretched after all the stupid lunchtime traffic. They’d missed the entrance to this building twice; it was so narrow and set back from the street.
His longtime bodyguard, Zooble, locked the black Rolls-Royce they’d brought him in and came up close enough for Jax to rib them. They had a mix-and-match body like a developmental toy, and they liked to wear various jackets depending on how many limbs they'd picked out; today, they had three arms, which meant they wore their matching three-armed brown canvas jacket. Their pieces rattled when Jax ribbed them, both the pepper spray Zooble had somehow rigged to their head and their gun of the day hanging off their belt, some sort of S&W handgun.
“Look at this. Don’t you almost feel bad?” Jax shook his head. “Man. Pomni thought she needed thugs. She could knock the building over herself with a stick.”
Zooble shrugged. “It’s just small, man. It’s not decrepit. There are also worse parts of Buffalo.”
Jax walked close enough to read a board posted outside that listed the building’s contents.
“Oh my God, she doesn’t even own the building. Zooble, look. There’s like ten offices in this shoebox.”
“Right? Why didn’t Daddy buy her a bigger one?” Zooble asked, eyes to the sky and back to Jax. “Don’t look so offended. I’m being genuine.”
“Okay, shut up and get serious. You go in first, so I’m the surprise.” Jax led them through tight halls to the door that belonged to Ragatha A. Kelly’s practice.
What a name to live life with, Ragatha. He pictured someone truly homely inside.
Jax stepped back to let Zooble through. “You think she knows me?” he whispered. “That’ll make this stupid easy.”
Being treated well in public was one of the better parts of this gig. People from Buffalo to Niagara Falls either knew who Jax was, or they saw a purple rabbit and…
“She’ll think you’re your dad.” Zooble opened the door without knocking.
“Hey,” they said casually, head turned towards where the lady must be. “You got any weapons on you? Don’t lie...”
In the hall, Jax pulled his Glock and checked the magazine. More than enough rounds to waste some, if I’m feeling silly. He straightened his suit jacket and tapped his shoe. Let’s wrap this up fast, Ms. Kelly, so I'm not late to meet the sex worker.
Ragatha gasped at the unexpected intrusion, jumping back hard enough that her back hit the wall behind her desk.
“Who the hell—?” Her heart pounded. “Weapons? What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?” Shock quickly gave way to anger. “Get out! You obviously have the wrong office.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Forgetting to lock the door… This wasn’t necessarily a bad area of the city, but it certainly wasn’t ideal. There were way safer streets she could’ve set up an office on (if she’d been able to afford them).
“Nah, we’re definitely in the right place,” the intruder said, stepping toward Ragatha. “I’ll ask you again, do you have any weapons?”
This time, they brandished the handgun they’d been concealing, aiming it directly at Ragatha.
What is happening? Her immediate thought was of Mr. Red. Fear overwhelmed her, and a cold dread ran down her spine.
Ragatha slowly raised her hands. “No…I don’t, I promise.”
“If I find out you’re lying, there won’t be a second chance,” the strange amalgam of shapes said. Then they called over their shoulder, “All good.”
Ragatha wasn’t sure who they were talking to until another figure stepped into her office. A tall, lanky, purple rabbit. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit and had his own gun pointed at her. Recognition dawned immediately. She’d seen his face many times in both the news and other various media.
“I know who you are,” she said. “Jax Harland…”
An easy smile spread on Jax’s face. “Hey, good work recognizing the guy who owns half the city.”
Suck it, Zoobs, she knows me.
Five steps from the door centered him in the tiny office. Ragatha’s eyes darted to the door behind him, and Zooble closed it.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here for a cut of your profits or anything,” Jax said. “Can’t divide zero.”
The public generally knew Jax as a businessman and an investor. A lawyer might read between the lines, though. You don’t get this rich without cheating.
The gold-colored finish of Jax’s gun bounced the light as he tossed it up and caught it by the barrel, then tossed it to hold the handle again; Ragatha flinched every time he caught it. He could only see one of her eyes following the gun, because her other eye was a button, owing to her being some kind of sewn doll.
Gimmicky eyes—or worse, no eyes but vision—always made him suspicious.
The man Jax had come to talk about was like that, a wooden mannequin with no visible eyes at all. Mr. Hat. At least, he wore a weird hat, like a cowboy one. Maybe that wasn’t his name, but it’d been something simple like that. Whatever.
Apparently, this guy had been undoing a ton of Pomni’s work in Jax’s expanding loan-sharking branch. He’d only seen the man’s picture and had a brief call about everything on the way over.
“What- can I help you with?” Ragatha asked, amusingly torn between offense and good sense. She clutched her mitten hand against a blazer that had to be at the top of her budget, seeming more annoyed with the world for putting her in this spot than afraid for her life.
Jax scoffed at her barely concealed attitude. “What, were you busy with the zero clients in here? First of all, relax.”
With Zooble’s gun still aimed at Ragatha, Jax dropped onto a couch that filled half the office. It wasn’t remotely as comfortable as any of the couches he owned. What must it be like to have a budget? He lay against one couch arm and kicked his shoes up onto the opposite arm.
“I just need some info, some names, and some papers.” Jax clicked his index finger’s claw on his gun for each item stated. Dammit, what was that guy’s name? “You’ve got a client who wears a cowboy hat and likes loans. Know who I mean?”
Jax trained his gun on Ragatha again. “I’ll take everything you’ve got on him. Then I’ll go home and get on with my day. You will, too, if you’re smart about this.”
Ragatha couldn’t believe this guy’s audacity. Did he seriously think he was going to barge into her office and start making demands?
That wasn’t how she operated. Not now, not ever.
“Excuse me?” Ragatha raised her eyebrow. “First of all, get your feet off my couch. Second, I don’t have to give you anything. That’s confidential client information, and I’m not sharing it with you or with anyone. What type of lawyer do you think I am?” She glared at him, hoping her expression was enough for him to see how serious she was. She still eyed his gun warily.
Sure, she’d dropped Mr. Red as a client, but that didn’t mean her own confidentiality rules didn’t bind her. Surely this jerk knew that, regardless of his position of so-called power.
“I want you to leave. Now," Ragatha said.
“Haha, what? Oh my God, look at her mean mugging me with her squishy stuffed animal face. Ha!” Jax thumped his shoe loudly on the wall past the couch’s end, causing a picture of a majestic white horse to fall and shatter. “Heheh.”
He wiped his eye with his gun-hand’s wrist, although he hadn’t been laughing that hard. Actually, Jax rode the line of pissed off. Trying to order me around. I THOUGHT she knew who I was.
He stared her in the eye and squinted harder into his smile. He felt Zooble watching him. Jax rolled his wrist, jiggling the gun.
“You’re not pretty enough to be dumb, honey. Try again.”
Jax meant his words to sting, but Ragatha had endured worse. Way worse. Insulting her looks wouldn’t get the rise out of her that this asshole hoped for.
“You’re replacing that frame,” she muttered, pointing to the shattered glass. “And again, I don’t need to tell you anything.”
“Listen,” Jax’s associate spoke. “You’re not hearing us. This isn’t optional.” They pointed their gun closer to Ragatha, enough to make her take a step back. “You’re a lawyer, so we know you’re not stupid. Talk. Now.”
Ragatha felt a cold chill. Stand your ground. Give them as little as possible, and maybe they’ll leave. Don’t give in. She stood up straight and squared her shoulders.
“Listen, you purple furball,” she seethed, pointing at Jax. “Mr. Red isn’t even my client anymore. I dropped him a week ago. I have nothing for you. Nothing.” She looked from Jax to his associate, then back again. “What part of that don’t you understand?”
“You dropped him?” Jax sat up the right way on the couch, letting his hand and gun fall between his knees. Zooble looked as surprised as he was.
“Can’t those big ears hear?” Ragatha asked with her chin up. Oh, this dumb bitch had no idea how much trouble she was in.
“Stop being fresh for a second.” Jax massaged his forehead.
The only reason she’s not already dead is probably that this Red guy still wants to work with her. But when Red realized that wasn’t going to happen, there was no way he’d be cool about Ragatha ditching his ass. Besides the wounded pride, leaving Ragatha alive made no sense for a shady man who’d shared his secrets and wasn’t receiving a service anymore.
She was annoying in this hour, but she was innocent. That earned her some points. Jax would level with her.
“You can’t drop people like this guy,” he said. “I honestly can’t believe you came to work. Can you believe it, Zooble?”
“She has no idea what she’s done to herself,” Zooble said.
Jax leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “At least now that you need protection, we have an obvious path forward.” He tucked his gun into his belt and nodded at Zooble to holster theirs. Ragatha had nothing to hurt them with, and they weren’t going for the threatening angle anymore.
“Help us out,” Jax said, “and I’ll keep your ex-client from putting a bullet through your head.”
“What?” Ragatha shook her head. “What are you talking about? He wouldn’t shoot me.” Though truthfully, she wasn’t so sure. Hearing Jax and his associate say the words aloud—and so unflinchingly—gave her pause. She was relieved to see they’d put down their guns, though.
Mr. Red was a bad guy, but was he seriously someone she needed to worry about coming after her? Half the time when she’d met with him, he’d seemed so dopey.
Jax was staring at her, his big golden eyes making her oddly uncomfortable. Does he ever blink?
“Fuck, you’re being so stupid,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart, Zoob.” He looked at his friend.
“Lady,” Zooble began. “You’re making this way more difficult than it needs to be. You got a death wish or something? Jax is offering you the best protection there is in exchange for some simple information. No one else would do that for you. You’re lucky you’re still alive right now.”
“Look, thanks for the offer,” Ragatha said, rolling her eye. “But I don’t need your protection. I’m fine. I’m not scared of him. I worked with him for months before I dropped him. I think I’d know if I had something to be concerned about.”
That last part was only half-true, but they didn’t need to know that. If Ragatha really felt like she was in danger, she'd contact the police.
She gestured to her desk. “I’ve got work to do, and you’ve already put me behind.”
“So you have months of information.” Jax cupped his chin and jiggled his leg. “And it’s gonna die with you, because you’re too stuck up to let a nice guy like me save your life.”
“That’s right. I don’t want or need a guy like you to save me.” Ragatha crossed her arms.
“You’d seriously rather be dead?” Jax asked.
“I’m taking my chances.”
She doesn’t believe in the danger.
His foot tapped faster. “No. No, that doesn’t work for me.”
How had the easy job shaped up like this? He’d failed to intimidate or bribe her. When he left, not only would he be walking out empty-handed, he’d be leaving this woman for dead.
Situations like these were why Jax worked from his phone—he was a pussy when some detail hit him the wrong way.
His heart amped up. It’s not the same as it was with Ribbit. It just feels like it is.
This is a grown woman. I’m not a sappy eight-year-old begging Daddy to let me adopt a friend like a fucking cat.
Zooble watched him, as if they wondered what was stalling Jax.
“We could take her devices and get the information off of them,” they said quietly.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.” Jax nodded too many times. “Yeah, and we’ll just take her, too.”
“What?” Ragatha asked.
Zooble tilted their head. “Yeah, what? You want to make someone watch a captive at the office?”
Their questioning of Jax locked him into the decision.
He stood. “No, I don’t have extra people to use on her there. We’ll bring her to my house, and you and the house guard will watch her.”
“What if there’s nothing on those devices?” Jax went on. “What if we need to question this one, and we come back and she’s a corpse?”
“Best case,” Jax said, “Caine gets the info off Ragatha’s devices, we bury Redhat by tomorrow, and I release the lawyer back into the wild.”
His chest loosened, hearing himself say it. This plan was half decent.
Oh my God. Ragatha backed up slowly. She looked from Jax to Zooble and shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Are you nuts?! I’ll call the police if—”
“No, you won’t,” Jax said. “The police won’t do shit to keep you safe. Not from me, or your ex-client.”
Ragatha’s nerves were starting to fray. She imagined being forced into their vehicle, blindfolded, tied up, not sure where they were headed. She imagined herself being subjected to horrors unimaginable at the hands of Jax and his guards, and her stomach felt like it was going to be sick.
No, she wasn’t going to go quietly.
“Get. Out.” Her voice was a low hiss. “Get the fuck out.”
“Shut up.” Jax stepped toward her. “Make this easy. Zooble, grab the laptop, her phone, her bag, and whatever else you think we might need.” He gripped Ragatha by her upper arm and pulled.
Ragatha wrenched her arm away. “I said STOP!”
In one swift movement, Jax’s gun was in his hand. He fired a shot directly into her desk, making Ragatha scream and cover her ears.
“You dumb fucking bitch,” he snarled. “I just said I’ll let you go later. Unless you get yourself killed first, which to be honest, wouldn’t be all that surprising.” He aimed the gun at her and grabbed her arm again.
This time, Ragatha shoved him in his chest. She knew it was a bad idea, but she didn’t care. “Get off me!”
“Hey, hey, hey. No.” Zooble abandoned the floral Marshalls tote that had to be Ragatha’s, which they’d been filling with the rag doll’s electronics and notes.
“I can handle a girl shoving me,” Jax said, shaking Ragatha by the arm. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Zooble grabbed Ragatha roughly by the arm that Jax wasn’t already holding. Jax growled at their disobedience.
Ragatha struggled, but she couldn’t move at all between them. Her straight, close-fitting dress limited how high she could kick. She smelled like fresh laundry up close, and her chest squished against Jax as Zooble fastened her hands with something. It was so unsexy. She was terrified.
“Stop!” Ragatha’s eye was wild. She breathed too fast against Jax’s neck.
“Thanks for leaving out this useful hair ribbon.” Zooble knotted the silky blue ribbon until the only way to get it off would be with scissors.
Ragatha couldn’t speak. She choked on her air.
Jax’s ears pinned back as his gut squirmed. Fuck, I hate stuff like this. “It’s this or dead. God, it’s like trying to help a feral cat. Just take the favor, dumbass.”
He tugged her into the hall and pulled harder when she kept stopping. Her legs shook like they could give out. Jax handled Ragatha by himself so Zooble could bring the bag of her things.
Zooble went out first to open the back seat door, and Jax followed, shoving Ragatha in. Without her arms to catch herself, she fell onto her face in the seat, and Jax had to pick up her legs to get her all the way in, which only freaked her out worse. He slammed the door, wondering how the fuck he’d gotten here.
Ragatha couldn’t stop hyperventilating. Once Jax had opened the other side and climbed in after her, he lifted her into a seated position. She struggled against the tight restraints around her wrists, writhing her body as she tried to remain upright.
How could this possibly be happening? She felt simultaneously terrified and embarrassed.
Zooble sped away from the office, and Ragatha’s gut lurched from the sudden movement.
“Calm down,” Jax said casually, glancing at her from his seat. “Watch some TV.” He gestured lazily to the large screens embedded in the backs of the driver and passenger seats. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there at the moment.
That makes two of us, Ragatha thought bitterly. She looked around. What type of car is this? Is he serious right now? He wants me to watch TV? Ragatha glared at him.
“Fuck you,” she whispered, turning away from him. She watched the scenery fly by outside and wondered where they were taking her. A tear rolled down her cheek.
The last time she’d been restrained like this had been the worst night of her life. She wasn’t eager to relive that again. Her stomach ached from the triggered memories, and her chest felt tight, like no matter what she did, she simply couldn’t get enough air. She leaned her forehead against the window and closed her eye, refusing to let Jax see her cry.
The TV screens silently displayed a western with a hostage woman. “That’s fitting,” Jax said. He sifted through the catalogue of media until he found Grey’s Anatomy.
“This looks like what someone like you would watch. What episode are you on?”
Ragatha was quiet. Jax leaned to see her while she did her best to block him out. Her brow bent furiously, but her cheek glistened with tear tracks. Eughh.
“Episode one it is.” He sat back in his seat uncomfortably, sans seatbelt. The safety dinged until Zooble manually turned it off.
Ragatha’s hands kept jerking behind her back.
“You’re gonna dislocate your shoulder. That guy would tell you.” Jax indicated the doctor on the mirrored TVs, though she still faced away.
Acting like I’m some sadistic woman killer. She didn’t know how lucky she was.
He unmuted the TVs and turned them up to drown out her hyperventilating.
Zooble hit a bump, and Ragatha fell from her seat. When Jax joined her on the floor to pick her up, legs bracketing her body to get leverage, she kicked and struggled.
“DON’T touch me!” Her heel stabbed his leg, and Jax sprang back.
“Fuck. Stop acting like I’m going to assault you. You’re skeezing me out.”
Jax lifted into his seat again and left her trembling on the carpet. He crossed his arms. Every stop in traffic added to the awkward torture of the drive.
They had to stop at the office, annoyingly. Pomni, Jax’s finances person (although he made her do any random bullshit he thought of), met them at the car to take Ragatha’s possessions for Caine and Gangle (his cybersecurity and tech person who wasn’t a million years old and senile, unlike Kinger) to investigate.
Pomni stared at Ragatha on the car’s floor.
“She’s fine,” Jax said. “It was necessary to bring her.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Jax bared his teeth. “Your disdainful clowny face tells all. Don’t judge me.”
From her place on the floor, Ragatha couldn’t tell who Jax was talking to, but she heard her speak again.
“Right, why would I ever judge you?” Pomni asked.
Jax growled in response, making Ragatha jump.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here, Zooble,” Jax said. “Let this clown do what she does best, which is nothing.”
Zooble sped away. Again, Ragatha felt herself being lurched forward. Her neck was twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle, but she refused to allow Jax to help her. She didn’t want him touching her.
He didn’t speak to her again. Instead, Grey’s Anatomy droned in the background, a strange soundtrack to a horrifying situation.
“Stop acting like I’m going to assault you,” Jax had said. Even if he claimed he wasn’t going to do anything, it didn’t change the fact that she was tied up and completely at his mercy. It was hitting too close to home.
Way too close.
Fuck!
Every time Ragatha tried to calm down and think logically, she remembered her restraints. The panic swallowed her whole again, until she finally broke down. She cried silently for the rest of the ride.