Smoke In Their Lungs
1252 Words
“But maybe,” she whispered, voice trembling, “we make our own.”
The room grew silent again, but the fire sparked a new resolve.
They poured over maps, phone records, and contact lists.
“This,” Jax said, pointing to a cluster of marked locations, “is where they stash most of their weapons and cash. Hit these first, and we cripple them.”
Lena traced the points with her finger..“And I thought being a bookshop owner was safe.” Jax smirked, a flash of dark humor.
“Safe doesn’t exist anymore. Not for us.”
As dawn crept over the horizon, the weight of their plan settled heavy on their shoulders.
There was no turning back.
---
The first pale light of dawn filtered through the cabin’s grimy windows, casting long shadows over the scattered maps and weapons that now littered the small room. The weight of what was coming pressed heavily on Lena’s chest.
She sat by the window, fingers tracing the outline of the ledger’s worn leather cover—a small, fragile object that carried the power to topple empires and seal fates. But to her, it was more than just paper and numbers; it was a symbol of all she’d lost and everything she hoped to reclaim.
The world she once knew, full of quiet mornings and dusty bookshelves, had been ripped apart. Now, survival meant stepping into a violent world she never imagined belonging to—and trusting the man who embodied its darkest corners.
Lena’s gaze drifted to Jax, who was already awake, methodically cleaning his gun at the table, muscles taut with silent tension. His usual stoicism was cracked by moments of vulnerability she’d glimpsed only a few times—and those glimpses unsettled her.
“Jax,” she said softly, voice barely carrying over the morning stillness. “How do you do this? Live with all this pain and anger?”
He didn’t look up, but his voice was low, almost a confession. “By pretending it’s not there. By telling myself that every hard choice keeps the people I care about alive.”
She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I’m scared. Not just of them… but of losing myself. Of becoming someone I won’t recognize.”
Jax finally met her eyes. There was something fierce in his gaze, a mix of warning and something softer—hope, maybe.
“You won’t,” he promised. “You’re the only thing in this world that’s real to me. And I’ll fight every demon to keep you safe.”
Lena’s throat tightened. For the first time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could win this.
Outside, the world was waking—birds calling, leaves rustling, life pushing forward despite the darkness looming over them.
Tomorrow, everything will change.
---
The engine purred beneath Jax like a sleeping beast, barely held in check. Dawn smeared the horizon with red, as if the sky itself knew blood was coming.
Jax adjusted his cut, his gaze locked on the nondescript warehouse ahead. His men were in position—Dead Reapers lined the tree line like shadows with guns, bats, and the fury of years spent in silence. No time left for doubts. Only war.
He turned his head just enough to see Lena seated behind him in the truck they’d commandeered. Her face was pale but steady. Fear simmered in her eyes—but so did something else: resolve.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
She didn’t flinch. “You protect me. Let me help protect you.”
God help him, she had no business being here. But the way she looked at him now… it was no longer the gaze of a frightened bystander. She’d chosen this. Chose him.
And there was no walking away from that.
He gave a single nod. “When we move, stay behind me. You see a gun pointed at you, you duck. You see me drop—”
“You won’t,” she interrupted.
He smirked. “That’s my girl.”
Then he dropped the smirk, turned forward, and lifted his hand.
“On my mark.”
The roar of engines shattered the still morning as they surged forward. Time snapped into sharp focus. Everything blurred except the warehouse, the thunder in her chest, and Jax’s unwavering back as he led the charge.
Gunfire burst like firecrackers ahead.
Jax’s bike cut through the gate with brutal precision, bullets sparking off metal, voices shouting, chaos unfurling like wildfire.
She ducked, heart in her throat, as glass shattered. But she didn’t scream.
Not this time. She followed his voice, the way he barked orders, moved like he was born for this hell. And still—he kept looking back. For her.
Inside, the cartel men were scrambling—half-dressed, caught off-guard. The Reapers mowed through them with ruthless efficiency, a violent ballet of vengeance.
Jax kicked in a steel door—bam—and grabbed the first screaming lackey by the throat.
“Where’s the backup drive?”
“I—I don’t know—”
Jax slammed him against the wall. “Wrong answer.”
Lena entered behind him, clutching the satchel they needed to fill.
The ledger’s twin—an encrypted drive full of cartel banking, names, routes. Everything they needed to destroy the cartel from the inside.
One of the cartel thugs sprang at Jax with a knife—Lena screamed—
—but Jax moved like lightning, flipping the man and slamming a boot into his chest with a crack.
More shots fired outside. A body flew through the warehouse door.
Then came the sound they weren’t prepared for. Sirens.
Lena’s eyes widened. “Cops?”
Jax’s face darkened. “Worse. Crooked cops. Bought by the cartel.”
He grabbed her hand. “Time’s up.”
They burned the rest. Weapons, stash, cash. Fire bloomed behind them as they fled the warehouse—back into the woods, toward the extraction point, where fresh bikes and trucks waited.
But the message had been sent.
The Dead Reapers weren’t running anymore.
And neither was he. They didn’t speak on the ride back.
The adrenaline was gone, burned out like the flames they’d left behind. In its place: smoke, silence, and the ghostly weight of everything they’d done.
Jax parked the truck in a hidden grove outside a safehouse Lena hadn’t seen before. A one-story cabin, boarded up like a bunker, surrounded by nothing but pine and sky.
He cut the engine. Neither moved.
“You okay?” he finally asked.
Lena stared ahead. Her hands were still trembling, but her voice was clear. “I think I will be.”
Jax turned toward her, his expression unreadable. “You kept your head back there.”
“So did you.”
He looked away, jaw tight. “That’s not always a good thing.”
Inside, the silence grew thicker. Lena sat on the edge of the bed, eyes on her bruised palms. Jax stood near the window, one hand on the sill, watching the trees.
“They’ll come for us,” she whispered. She like she was the last sliver of light in a collapsing world. “Now I feel everything. Every time you look at me like I’m worth saving, it hurts.”
She took a breath, reached up, brushing her fingers lightly over his cheek. “Then maybe… maybe that’s how you know you still have a soul.”
- Writer
