C5 Malibu Escape

The coastal highway twisted like a snake along the Pacific. Elara gripped the edge of her seat as Jax pushed the stolen SUV harder, engine growling through the curves. They had ditched the Mercedes hours ago and switched vehicles twice already. Malibu’s famous beaches stretched out on their right, golden sand glowing under the late afternoon sun, but the beauty felt mocking after everything they had lost.

Jax kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting too close to her thigh. His knuckles were still raw from whatever fight he had gotten into last night. He had not explained the blood, and she had not pushed. Not yet.

"We cannot stay in the city," he said, breaking the heavy silence. "Too many eyes. I know a place."

Elara glanced at him. His jaw was set, dark wavy hair messy from the wind rushing through the cracked window. "A place? Like another roach motel?"

"Something better." His lips curved slightly, but it was not a real smile. "For now."

The SUV hugged the cliffs as they left the main traffic behind. Waves crashed against the rocks below, sending white spray into the air. Elara’s stomach churned with every mile. She kept replaying the photo in her purse, the one showing them tangled together in bed. Someone was watching. And Jax... Jax knew more than he was saying.

The safe house turned out to be a weathered beach bungalow tucked behind tall dunes and overgrown palms. It looked abandoned from the outside, with faded blue paint and salt-stained windows. Jax parked behind a cluster of rocks and killed the engine. The sound of waves filled the sudden quiet.

"Stay close," he ordered, grabbing their small bag of supplies.

Inside smelled of sand and old wood. One main room with a sagging couch, a tiny kitchen, and a bedroom barely big enough for the double bed. Jax checked every window and door before he finally relaxed a fraction. Elara dropped onto the couch, exhaustion crashing over her like the ocean outside.

She watched him pace the room, phone in hand. He stepped onto the small back deck twice, speaking in low tones she could not quite catch. Each time he returned, his expression was darker. The tension in his shoulders made the tattoos on his arms stand out sharper.

"Who are you talking to?" she finally asked, voice sharper than she intended.

Jax stopped pacing. He turned slowly, hazel eyes locking onto hers. "People who can help keep us alive. That is all you need to know right now."

Elara stood up, anger pushing past her fear. "That is bullshit, Jax. I am not some fragile little princess you can keep in the dark. Not after what happened. Not after you..." She trailed off, remembering his body pressed against hers in the motel, his hardness, his almost-kiss.

He crossed the room in three strides and backed her against the wooden wall. The impact was not rough, but it stole her breath. His hands landed on either side of her head, caging her in. Up close she could see the faint bruise on his ribs and the dried blood still under his fingernails.

"You want the truth?" His voice dropped low, dangerous. "Fine. I have contacts in places your perfect parents never wanted you to know about. Underground shit. People who owe me favors. Happy now?"

His body heat wrapped around her. Elara’s chest rose and fell quickly, brushing against his with every breath. She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower, tracing the way his shirt still hung off her shoulder.

"Jax..." she whispered.

His hand moved to her waist, gripping hard enough to bruise. "You have no idea how deep this goes. And right now, keeping you alive means you do not get to ask every damn question."

The air between them crackled. Elara’s body responded against her will, nipples tightening, heat blooming low in her belly. She hated how much she wanted him to close the last inch of space. Hated how safe his solid frame felt even while he lied to her face.

Jax leaned in until his forehead nearly touched hers. His breath mingled with hers, hot and ragged. "You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?" he muttered. One of his thumbs slipped under the hem of her shirt, stroking bare skin. The touch sent sparks racing straight between her legs.

Elara’s hands came up to his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. She could feel his heart pounding under her palms. His thigh pressed between hers, parting her legs slightly. The friction made her bite back a soft sound.

"This is insane," she breathed. "We buried them yesterday."

"Life does not wait for funerals." His mouth hovered so close she could almost taste him. His free hand slid up her side, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the thin fabric. Elara gasped, arching into the touch before she could stop herself.

Jax groaned low in his throat. His hips rolled forward, letting her feel how hard he was. The thick length pressed right against her core, only thin layers separating them. For one dizzying moment she thought he would take her right there against the wall.

Then he pulled back with a sharp curse, stepping away like she had burned him.

Elara stayed pressed against the wall, legs shaky, trying to catch her breath. Jax ran both hands through his hair and turned toward the window overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed louder now as evening approached, golden light dancing on the water.

He made another call, stepping onto the deck again. This time she caught fragments. "Yes... she is here... No, not yet. She is useful bait if they come looking..."

Her blood turned to ice. Bait. The word echoed in her head. She backed away from the window, heart hammering. The almost-moment between them felt tainted now, poisoned by secrets and lies.

Before she could decide what to do, the glass beside Jax’s head exploded in a shower of shards. Gunshots cracked through the peaceful evening. A man’s voice shouted from outside, raw and furious.

"Elara Voss! Come out, girl. We know you are in there!"

Jax spun toward her, eyes wild. "Get down!"