Forbidden Ties

Chapter 5: A Fragile Truce.

Jax's P.O.V.

The tension in the room was palpable as Sam and I sat across from each other, the silence between us hanging like an invisible wall. Her earlier message still lingered in my mind: More threatening texts from different numbers just came through. They know about us. And they apparently want to expose us.

I could feel her eyes on me, but neither of us spoke. Our fight—the hurt, the anger—was still there, but now, it was overshadowed by something far more pressing. The unknown threats. Whoever was behind this knew too much, and it was clear they weren’t just targeting us—they were playing a dangerous game, one that had the potential to tear everything apart.

I sat down at the table beside her, my heart racing from the overwhelming tension. We didn’t speak immediately, and I hated the silence, but for some reason, it didn’t feel quite as suffocating as it had before. Maybe it was because, for the first time since all this started, we were on the same side.

The room felt quieter now, the weight of the threats bringing us together in a way nothing else had before. We weren’t just fighting each other anymore—we were fighting for something far bigger. Our hearts, tangled up in a mess of unspoken words and unresolved feelings, seemed to settle for the moment.

I leaned over, glancing at the phone in her hand, the screen still lit up with the new wave of messages.

“This is getting out of control,” I muttered, more to myself than to Sam.

She nodded, her jaw clenched. “I don’t understand how they know so much. And I definitely don’t understand who they are.”

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel the closeness again. The air was different between us, not as thick with anger, but filled instead with shared confusion and a kind of mutual understanding. We were both scared. Scared of what would happen if we didn’t figure this out, scared of what might be lurking in the shadows.

I glanced at her again. She was still tense, her shoulders tight, but her eyes were no longer cold. She was here with me. And that was enough for now. I couldn’t keep my thoughts from drifting back to our earlier argument—how I’d hurt her, how I couldn’t take back the things I’d said—but in this moment, I pushed it down. We had more important things to focus on.

“I know you’re mad at me,” I began quietly, “but I swear, I never meant to hurt you, Sam. And I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it. Just… just let me help you with this.”

Her eyes met mine, and for a split second, it felt like everything shifted. There was no anger, no blame—just a shared resolve.

“Alright, Jax,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s figure this out. Together.”

We both stood up, our movements synchronized without even thinking about it. It was like for the first time, we didn’t need to speak to understand what the other was thinking. We were in this mess together, and whether we liked it or not, we were now bound by something stronger than just the growing attraction between us. This wasn’t just about us anymore—it was about survival.

“I think we should start with the numbers,” Sam said, her fingers scrolling through the recent texts. “They’re all different, but they all came through within the same time frame. Whoever is doing this is watching us closely.”

I leaned over to get a closer look at the messages. Some of the texts were vague, others more direct, but all of them carried a sinister undertone. They were threats, yes, but they were also taunts. Whoever this was, they wanted us to know they were in control.

“There’s gotta be a pattern we’re missing,” I muttered, rubbing my chin.

Sam looked up at me, her brow furrowed in concentration. “I know. And I’m not letting this go until we figure out who’s behind it. I don’t care what it takes.”

For the first time since all this started, I felt a flicker of hope. Sam was back, and with her, there was a sense of clarity. We’d never been on the same team before—not like this. But in that moment, I could feel it—whatever was coming next, we’d face it together.

The phone vibrated again in her hand, pulling us both back into the present. Another text. We both froze, reading it in silence.

“You think you can run from the truth? You’re not going to escape this. You’ll both pay for your mistakes.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

I looked at Sam. Her face was pale, and I could see the determination behind her eyes, that fire I’d come to know too well. It wasn’t fear that lingered there anymore. It was resolve.

“We’ll find them,” I said, my voice steady. “And when we do, they’ll wish they’d never crossed us.”

Sam nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. For a brief moment, we both just stood there, the weight of what we were up against settling in. But there was something else there too—a strange sense of unity, of understanding. Sure, we still had our lingering problems. And yes, it was a fragile truce.

But for now, we were on the same side.

And that was all that mattered.

The room was thick with silence, both of us lost in the task at hand. Sam and I moved like strangers who shared the same space but refused to acknowledge the pull between us. Every time our fingers brushed as we searched through the phone book directories, a jolt of electricity shot up my arm, but I didn’t flinch. Neither did she.

We had our focus—finding who was behind the threats, the texts, the mess we’d been thrown into.

But beneath it all, there was the storm of everything unsaid between us.

I glanced over at Sam as she flipped through a stack of more phone number papers we had just printed out, her brow furrowed in concentration.

For the first time since... well, everything, I didn’t feel the need to make things right. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t have to.

The air between us was heavy with something unspoken.

“Nothing,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she tossed another paper aside. She was frustrated. We both were.

“Just keep looking,” I urged, trying to keep my voice calm despite the turmoil inside me. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what we were doing, what was happening between us. I couldn’t push her too hard; I couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not when we were so close.

We both continued searching, and for a moment, everything felt oddly normal—just two people doing something that mattered, forgetting for a second that the world outside this room had crumbled beneath us.

Then, a soft click echoed down the hallway. It was the sound of the door, slowly creaking open.

I froze, instinctively looking at Sam, whose wide eyes locked with mine. Both of us held our breath as we listened intently to what was about to happen next.

“Jax? Sam?”

It was her mom.

My heart raced. Had she heard us? Was she suspicious of what we were doing in here?

Before I could say anything, Sam stood up, too quickly, knocking over the papers in front of her. She shot me a look—one that was a mix of panic and determination.

“Go,” she whispered, motioning to the back door. “Now.”

I wanted to protest. I wanted to stay and face whatever was coming. But Sam was already heading for the door, urging me to leave with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. We had to protect this, whatever we were on the verge of uncovering. Whatever was in that stack of papers, whatever threat loomed over us, it could wait.

I followed her, slipping out the back door just as her mom called her name again.

The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face as we crouched behind the house, breathing hard, adrenaline pumping.

“What the hell was that about?” I asked, but Sam was already on edge, her eyes darting around as if expecting someone to jump out at us.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her face pale. “But I think I saw something—”

A sharp ringing noise cut her off. The unmistakable buzz of a phone vibrating.

Sam’s phone.

I glanced at her, the blood draining from my face as she fumbled for it. She pulled it from her pocket, staring at the screen in horror.

“I— I don’t understand...” she whispered, her hand trembling as she showed me the message.

The words on the screen were simple, yet their meaning hit like a punch in the gut.

'I know what you’re doing. And I’m closer than you think.'