No way out

The black sedan cut through the city like a shark through dark waters. Jax sat in the back, staring out the window, his reflection barely visible against the streaks of neon flashing past. His ribs ached, his knuckles burned, and his mind was racing too fast to settle.

Vincent Romano was quiet beside him. He didn't need to say anything—his presence alone was enough. He had Jax where he wanted him.

Jax clenched his fists. He had been fighting for years, but this was different. This wasn't just another brawl. This was a game, and he was the piece being moved.

The car slowed, pulling into a quiet street. Romano tapped the glass between them and the driver. The sedan eased to a stop."Get some rest, Mercer," Romano said, adjusting his cuff. "You'll need it."The lock clicked open.

Jax hesitated just long enough to meet Romano's gaze. Searching for something—some hint of what was really at play. But all he saw was cold calculation.

He climbed out.

The car disappeared into the night, leaving him standing on the cracked pavement in front of a familiar apartment building. Mason's place.

Jax exhaled, pressing his tongue against the cut inside his cheek. He hadn't even realized where they had dropped him off.

His body was screaming for rest, but his mind wouldn't let him stop. He climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time, ignoring the way his ribs protested. By the time he reached the third floor, his hands were balled into fists, his pulse pounding in his ears.

He didn't knock. He never had to.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Mason was sitting on the couch, a beer in one hand, his phone in the other. The TV was on, playing some late-night highlights of the fights. As soon as he saw Jax, he set the beer down and shook his head.

"Jesus," Mason muttered. "I saw the fight. You look like hell."Jax let out a dry laugh as he shut the door. "You should see the other guy." Mason didn't smile. He was already studying Jax, his sharp eyes seeing too much.

Mason sat forward. "What happened?"

Jax exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand down his face. "Romano was waiting for me after the fight."Mason stiffened. "Shit."

Jax nodded, sinking into the chair across from him.

Mason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What does he want?"Jax hesitated. His whole body felt heavy. "A fight," he said finally.

Mason frowned. "Another one?"

Jax exhaled. "Against Leon Vargas."

The room went dead silent.

Mason's reaction was immediate—his shoulders tensed, and his expression darkened.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

Jax shook his head.

Mason ran a hand through his hair, muttering a curse. "Vargas isn't like the guys you've fought before, Jax. He's a different kind of animal. He doesn't just win—he destroys people. You barely walked away from The Butcher. Vargas will end you."Jax looked away, staring at a crack in the floor. He knew Mason was right.

Mason let out a sharp breath. "And you agreed to this?"

Jax clenched his jaw. "I didn't have a choice."

Mason shot to his feet, pacing. "There's always a choice, man."

Jax let out a bitter laugh. "Not this time."

Mason turned to face him. "What does Romano have on you?"

Jax hesitated. He could still hear Romano's voice in his head, smooth and measured. I don't like waste. And I think you could be worth something.

"He said I cost him money," Jax said finally. "And this is how I pay it back."

Mason folded his arms, his jaw tight. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

Jax looked up at him.

Mason shook his head. "Romano doesn't just want you to fight, Jax. He wants something else."

Jax didn't answer. Mason took a step closer. "What aren't you telling me?"

Jax rubbed his knuckles, feeling the sting of broken skin. "He didn't say I had to win."Mason froze. "Wait. What?"

Jax leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "He didn't say it outright, but I could tell. He's betting on me. Or maybe against me. Either way, this isn't just about the fight."Mason swore under his breath. "So what do you do?"Jax exhaled slowly. "I fight."

Mason's face twisted with frustration. "And if you lose? What then?"Jax met his gaze. "If I lose, I'm owned."Mason's fists clenched. "And if you win?"Jax let out a slow breath. "Then maybe I get out."Mason shook his head. "You believe that?" Jax didn't answer.

Mason sat down hard on the couch, running a hand over his face. "This is a setup, man. You don't get out of Romano's grip by doing him a favor. He'll just find another way to keep you on the hook."Jax stayed silent. Mason exhaled, then looked at him. "We run."

Jax's brows lifted slightly. "Run?"

Mason nodded. "I mean it. You disappear. I know a guy—he can get you out of the city, new ID, clean slate."

Jax let out a dry laugh. "And then what? I spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder?"Mason's jaw tightened. "Better than being Romano's dog."

Jax leaned back, shaking his head. "It wouldn't work. He'd find me. And he'd find you, too."

Mason clenched his fists. "You don't know that."

Jax gave him a tired look. "Yeah. I do."

Silence settled between them.

Mason looked away first, his jaw tight. "Damn it, Jax."

Jax sighed, running a hand over his face. "I know."

Mason exhaled through his nose, then leaned back against the couch. "When's the fight?"

Jax stared at the floor. "Soon."

Mason nodded slowly.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Mason stood. He walked to the kitchen, grabbed another beer from the fridge, then tossed it to Jax.

He caught it, twisting the cap off with his bruised fingers.

Mason sat back down. "You're not doing this alone."

Jax looked at him. "Mason—"

"I mean it," Mason said firmly. "You want to walk into hell? Fine. But I'm walking in with you."Jax studied him for a long moment, then nodded. Mason exhaled, shaking his head. "This is the dumbest thing we've ever done."

Jax took a sip of his beer. "Yeah."

Neither of them said it, but they both knew—this wasn't just about a fight anymore.

This was war.

And Jax Mercer was in too deep to turn back.