SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

FIFTY SIX

JACK'S POV

I burst out laughing along with Mercer, Ethan, and Bratt, holding onto Mercer's arm as I bend over. That shit was just too funny. We're all glancing over at Nico, who's fully locked in flirty mode with Sam. To our surprise, he's actually doing pretty good—better than I thought he would.

We've been messing with him, filming the whole thing on Luke's phone, which he left on the table an hour ago. The poor guy's been looking for it ever since, but every time he asks, we all play dumb. He's so pissed that he's finally given up. Tomorrow, when he checks his private Snapchat story, he's gonna see all the ridiculous stuff we posted.

Honestly, hanging out with the boys like this makes me feel like I'm sixteen again. It's the best feeling in the world, and I'm totally digging it. This is why I love my life—because of moments like these.

I glance over and see Luke chatting with Gab and Morgan at a table. They've gotten pretty tight lately, and I've gotta say, I like it. Morgan's been in a better place these days. The Burberry premiere we went to a couple of days ago seemed to really lift her spirits. She got to show off her work, and man, I couldn't be prouder. I even posted about her on my Instagram—a whole damn post about how amazing she is. Because she truly is.

Morgan catches my eye and waves, flashing me that big, beautiful smile of hers. I wave back, and my heart pounds in my chest. I want to ask her to move in with me. I feel like I'm gonna sign my entire career with the Devils, so it makes sense to settle in Jersey, take things slow, and build something real with her.

"Alright, boys, I'm gonna go thank Thomas," I announce, and Ethan jumps at the chance to come with me, probably just to see what the guy looks like.

Yeah, I told them that Thomas has a major crush on Morgan. Not because I'm paranoid or anything, but because it's frustrating as hell to know some dude's got eyes for your girl. I mean, it's not like I'm the only one who's ever been into her. Let's not forget about Braden, or freaking Hunter—who she was literally engaged to—or all the guys she met in Europe... Ugh, yeah, no, let's not go down that road.

Morgan's got the most killer body I've ever seen on a girl—tall, but not too tall, with blond hair that's got those, what do you call 'em, highlights? Yeah, highlights. Anyway, her eyes are this insane shade of blue, her skin's all silky and tan, and those lips of hers... Man, I can't even deal sometimes.

With a sigh, I push through the kitchen door. "Thomy boy?" Ethan shouts, and I roll my eyes. He always has to be extra.

"What's up, boys?" Thomas says, slinging a kitchen towel over his shoulder. The guy's tall, with dark tan skin, wavy black hair, and tattoos everywhere. He's not even looking at me, so I guess I don't have anything to worry about, right?

We fist bump him, give him a pat on the back—the usual guy stuff. Doesn't matter if it's a friend or someone random; it's just what we do.

"Having a good time, uh?" Thomas asks, and Ethan and I both thank him in unison. "Yeah, birthday boy's really happy," I say.

Thomas glances over at the dining room and chuckles a bit. "Yeah, I can see that."

I start walking around, but the kitchen floor's slippery as hell, and I gasp as I almost wipe out. 

"Greasy floors, eh?" I say, trying to break the ice a bit. I don't really know the guy, but I figure it doesn't hurt to be friendly. Besides, he's important to Nico, and that counts for something.

"Yeah," he replies, his tone flat, as he looks me over like I'm just another guy passing through his kitchen. "Gotta keep an eye out. Wouldn't want you slipping and hurting yourself, right? Devils can't afford to lose their star player over something stupid."

Ethan, of course, is laughing his ass off at my near fall. "Smooth, Jack, real smooth."

"Shut up, man," I say, but I'm smiling.

Ethan, oblivious as ever, claps me on the back again, trying to lighten the mood. 

Thomas just shrugs, his eyes flicking past me to where Morgan's sitting with Gab. His gaze lingers on her for a second longer than I'm comfortable with, and this surge of possessiveness flares up inside me. Morgan's mine, and I'm not about to let some guy—especially one who thinks he's above all this—get between us.

"So, how's Morgan been doing?" Thomas asks, his tone casual, but there's something in his eyes, something that says he's fishing for more than just small talk. "She's seemed... happier lately."

I nod, keeping my expression neutral, even though the guy's attitude is starting to grate on me. 

"Yeah, she's good," I reply, keeping my tone clipped. "Real good, actually. We've been spending a lot of time together, and I think it's been good for her. You know, getting out, seeing her work get recognized. She's amazing at what she does."

Thomas nods, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, she is. Always knew she'd go far."

There's a pause, and I can feel Ethan shifting beside me, sensing the tension even if he doesn't fully get it. The silence is thick, heavy. I chuckle, biting the bottom of my lip to ease the awkwardness.

"You have a weird way of talking about my girlfriend, don't you?" I say, trying to keep it light but with an edge that's hard to miss.

He laughs, clearly unfazed by what I just said. "I know she's yours, and I connected the dots since the first time she came in here. She made it clear that you guys had something going on. I never tried to interfere, if that's your concern," he says, his shoulders squaring up like he's bracing for something.

Ethan is still fidgeting beside me like a nervous goalie waiting for a shootout. My heart's pounding in my chest, my hands feel numb—or maybe wet. I can't even tell. I don't know why his calm demeanor is getting to me. I'm not scared of the guy, far from it, but there's something about him that's making me itch.

"Then what is it, then? Why don't you let it go, huh?" I challenge, my tone stern, eyes narrowing. Ethan tries to step in, sensing that the conversation's taking a darker turn than we planned when we first walked into the kitchen.

"Because she needs someone to have her back, someone she's not scared of," Thomas says, his words so clear they slice through the tension like a knife. My brow furrows in confusion, my mind racing to keep up.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I snap, taking a step closer to him, the space between us growing tighter, more charged.

For the first time since this conversation began, I see him hesitate, a flicker of something like guilt or maybe doubt crossing his face. I'm tipsy, sure, but he's not, and that gives him the upper hand in this twisted game. The silence between us is so thick, I don't even hear Ethan move to get between us. Thomas shakes his head and starts to walk away, like he's trying to dodge whatever bomb he just dropped. But it's too late.

"Thomas!" I bark, and he stops in his tracks, his back still turned to me. My voice is rough, raw with a mix of anger and something else, something close to panic. "What the hell is going on?"

He sighs, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clench at his sides. He turns back to face me, his expression cold, like he's steeled himself for what's coming next. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

"Tell me what?" My voice is rising, and I don't give a shit who hears it. Ethan's looking between us like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, not sure if he should jump in or stay the hell out of it.

Thomas stares at me for a long moment, like he's weighing his options, debating whether to say what he's thinking. And then he does. "She's got cancer again, Jack. She's been dealing with it for weeks."

His words hit me like a freight train, and for a second, I can't breathe. It feels like the ground just disappeared from under my feet, like everything I knew just shattered into a million fucking pieces.