Jax (Cocky Cage Fighter Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    "About time," Malone grumbles from the chair he's currently slouching in across from my desk.  
    "Geez Louise, you scared me," I say, holding the papers to my galloping heart. 
    "Everything okay in here?" Mark, our federal criminal attorney, asks from my open doorway. He purses his lips like he's trying not to grin, but epically fails when a snicker escapes.   
    "Perfectly fine. Now run along, imp," I mutter, getting back up from my chair to go slam the door in the annoying dwarf's face. I swear the man's only a few inches taller than Peter Dinklage, and tells more dirty offensive jokes than Daniel Tosh.
    "Listen," I say to Malone when I take my seat again. "There's an office pool going that I don't intend for anyone to win."
    "A pool?" he asks, slanting his thick black eyebrows together. Somehow they're actually sexy as all get out, and nothing like Bert's on Sesame Street .
    "Yeah, my lovely coworkers are betting on me. You, too, actually."
    Jax leans back in his chair, both hands behind his head with his elbows out. Can the man do anything without making it look sexy? "Really? What's the bet?" He asks.
    "How soon before you make me cry, how soon before I screw up, how soon I'll quit your case, and how soon you fire me."
    "Well damn," he mutters. "You a crier or something?"
    "No, I'm not a crier! I've never shed a tear in this office, and can’t recall the last time I shed one at all."
    Although, it was most likely when I was around ten or eleven years old. I'd found a litter of newborn kittens near the dumpster behind our Methodist Church. After my parents and I dropped them off with a local vet because they wouldn't let me keep them, I told them I wanted to save puppies and kittens when I grew up. In response my mom said, "No, Page. You're too smart and pretty to shovel shit for strays. You're going to marry a rich man." And my dad followed up her statement with, "Or you can go to law school just like your brother." That had been it, my only two options, end of discussion. It was the first time I realized my life would never actually be my own if I didn't want to disappoint them. Any variation from their decree, and to them I'd be a failure. That pressure's only gotten worse as I've gotten older.         
    "But all your coworkers think I'm going to make you cry?" Malone asks.
    "Yep."
    "That's pretty fucked up."
    "Tell me about it," I agree with a burst of laughter. "So, here's what we're going to do. I'm not going to cry and I'm going to try to be nicer to you. You're going to stop yelling at me, and we're going to work together on your case, so that everyone else in this building can go screw themselves. Deal?" I ask.
    He looks at me a second before he finally nods. "Deal."  
    "So," I say with a deep calming breath. "You found her on Facebook?"
    "Yeah, I tracked her down from her liking my fan page. She apparently doesn't know how to make her shit private since I could see all her posts and pictures. There were several photos of me on there, prior to last weekend. I printed them out, along with her comments."
    "This is good stuff," I tell him honestly. I start spreading everything out into piles based on separate categories. One for receipts, one for phone records, and one for Facebook.
    I read each page before putting it in the appropriate stack, closely reviewing the victim's Facebook profile and posts for anything that might be helpful. I do a double take when I get to a picture of Jackson. My cheeks warm, looking at such a revealing photo while actually sitting in front of the man.
    The black and white photo is...breathtaking. Every single line of his smooth, sculpted chest, arms, stomach and… legs is clearly shown. Feet shoulder width apart, only his two hands cupping himself block his privates from the camera. His head is hung, chin to his chest like there's an enormous invisible weight on his lethal shoulders.
    Under the photo is a comment by Christina Loftis, "Even yummier in person