Jax [uncomplete/not finishing]

11

Jax's POV:

"Where are mom and dad getting back?" I asked Eli as he walked into my office. "and knock next time you enter." I add.

"They were due to come back three days ago, Jax. What if something happened. I mean they didn't tell us where they were going... they gave us no information." Eli rambled. I pinched the bridge of my nose and let him ramble on until he was on the verge of passing out.

"You done?" I calmly ask. He intakes a large breath before exhaling and sitting down, "I feel lightheaded."

I chuckle, "Maybe because you just talked on without breathing for.." I glance down at my watch, "two whole minutes."

"Henry!" Eli yells. Henry comes running into the room not much longer, a scared expression on his face. "I need water," Henry nods and goes to exit but Eli's voice brings him to a halt. "Room temperature, no ice, in the blue plastic cups."

After Henry leaves the room I chuckle and shake my head, "What?" Eli asks me. "You're a drama king."

"That I am." He smiles like its a compliment. "So what are we going to do? Mom and dad were due to come back three days ago."

I shrug. I honestly have no idea. They never go on hard missions, with my dad becoming older and all. And they always tell us, more so me, where they are going. This was new. We had no information. nothing. zilch.

"I honestly don't know, Eli."  I sigh.

Worse case scenario, their dead.

But we would of have that information by a letter or my fathers health attorney.

"W..what if their dead? Jax, what if our parent are died."

"Then we will kill the bastards that killed our parents"

Simple.

Not to hard.

We just need to know if their dead or not.

After the long talk in my office with Eli, I ended up taking a much needed jog around the gated neighbourhood. I know when people typically say "gated neighbourhood" people think if rich and spoiled. It's quite different from us honestly.

We were born into it and once your in, your in. Unless of course you wish to be killed.

I've been part of this life style since I was 8. Learned how to kill when I 9. Killed someone for the first time when I was 11 and I haven't been the same since. It fucks with your head. Since my tiny hand first touched a gun I knew that aiming it at someone's head for a first would fuck with me in so many ways.

But it's just how our father raised us.

I shake my head, dismissing my thoughts and push open the black metal doors. "The mail came! It's addressed for you. It's in your office!" Eli shouted.

How did the fucker know it was me coming in.

I muttered a thanks before making my way up to the office. I couldn't help but peer into Lyla's room. I couldn't see her face, but I could see her autumn colour brown hair, the perfect beach waves she had curled.

Before she turned around and noticed me starring into her room, I walked into my office. My eyes immediately landing onto the big letter on my desk.

I took time to read it. Then again. Then for a third time. This isn't right. Something isn't adding up. My eyes scan the letter again, then fall to the bottom of the page where the signatures laid.

"Eli!" I shouted.