Jaxson Read online

  Jaxson

  Island Warriors

  Book One

  by Kris Keldaran

  © Copyright November 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

  ISBN#

  All cover art and logo © Copyright November 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Artwork by Jess Buffett

  Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

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  Dedication

  This novel is respectfully dedicated to the Marines and Sailors of 12th Marine Regiment. We stood together in the sands of hell and I will always be proud to call you my brothers.

  Semper Fidelis

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Kris Keldaran

  Excerpt from Playing With Zach

  Excerpt from Keeping Her Close

  JK Publishing, Inc.

  All references to historical events and places are real and as correct as the author can verify them to be. All persons named are entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Can we, in fact, pretend that she is anything other than a woman scorned, like which fury Hell hath no?

  Captain Jack Sparrow

  I can hear the sounds of his keys jangling against the lock through the silence of the house. His house. But after tonight, it's going to be my house. After tonight, a lot of things will change.

  I suppose I should explain, even if only to keep calm as my heart slams through my chest like a tsunami. You see, not long ago, I thought I had the perfect relationship, but boy had I been wrong.

  My boyfriend is a private security specialist, making more money than God knows how to spend. He paid cash for his mountainside house in Ko' Olina on the southwest side of Oahu. I can look out the window and see mango trees and plumeria flowers in bloom. Come sunset, postcard companies would kill to see this view.

  Jax likes to spoil me, even though he's never slept with me. He said it's because I'm a good girl and he doesn't want to ruin that. Between you and me, I think he's lying. I think he's a virgin and doesn't want to disappoint me. He doesn't know about my wild side, or the things I've done. Kehaulani is the party my friends liked to chant. Then I met him and everything changed. It's been almost a year since I've had sex though, and I enjoy sex. I enjoy being with somebody I love and feeling that incredible, wonderfully intense connection where you don't need words to explain how you feel. It's all starting to drive me a little crazy, because Jax is so damned hot.

  Jax is what we call a hapa-haole here in Hawaii. A half-breed where one parent is Polynesian, and the other is anything but. Jax's father is white, his mother is Tongan, and he was raised on the mainland in Arizona and New Mexico. Normally, this is something people hold against you, but Jax doesn't care. He's a blue-collar man at heart, able to laugh and joke with brothers from Wai'anae and Hawaii Kai as easily as shifting gears on the black Brimstone he drives. My whole family loves him and my mother is quite insistent he's the perfect man for me. “Kehau, you two would make such cute grandbabies for me,” she says in front of my aunts and cousins. Oh, momma, if only you knew, I wanted to tell her. I can't help but smile for a moment, mad as I am at him for that.

  My Jax has always been very good to me. One time, after we went shopping, I asked him why he spoils me so much. He told me, "I know I'm an asshole to put up with, and I don't say things very well. But I can show you how much I care about you." Truth is, he never had to say anything. From our first date, I was falling for him…

  Chapter One

  You don't fight fair

  But that's OK, see if I care

  Knock me down, it's all in vain

  I'll get right back on my feet again

  Pat Benatar's “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”

  "Look who finally showed up!" Carli called from where she stood stretching beside the squat racks. "You get stuck at Leonard's again?"

  Everybody in the group laughed at this, even Kehau. A few months ago, she’d locked her keys inside her car while getting malasadas at Leonard's for their surf trip. Roadside service took two hours to get there, and everyone had been starving when she finally showed up.

  "No, cuz, I had to tell that stupid ex of mine we really are done," Kehau replied as she put her hair up in a simple ponytail.

  Pua, warming up on a yoga ball beside her, frowned at this. "What's his problem?"

  "Sione doesn't like being told no."

  "That's what you get for dating a boy from Punahou," Pua replied unhappily.

  Hawaiian high schools might have rivalries, but if there's one thing they can all agree on, it's that everybody hates Punahou. Only the very rich go there. And they think they're better than everybody else because of it. Spoiled rich pricks. Sione was the worst. Tall, fast, and great with his hands, Sione played wide receiver for the University of Hawaii on a full ride. He was
the object of a dozen different scouts from the NFL, and with only one semester left, the speculation about his future was intense.

  That was when another friend, Nikole, found Kehau covered with bruises. She, Carli, and Pua staged an intervention on the spot. It had been enough to do the job. Sione hadn't been amused when he came home from the club at four in the morning and found his woman gone, with a note in the kitchen explaining why. Going to the police wasn’t an option for Kehau though. Not with somebody so popular on the island right now.

  In the weeks since then, he'd been insufferable. She thanked God morning and night she had such loyal friends. Pua let her move in with her while Kehau dug deeper into her job as a dance teacher. It had been a long struggle to get this far, but with every day that went by, she felt herself getting more and more confident. What her friends called the "Happy Kehau".

  "Who's that?" Carli asked. All three women looked over toward where she indicated, surprised to see somebody else at the gym this early in the morning.

  Over at the punching bag, a man was strapping on gloves. Even with the baggy olive-drab hooded sweater he wore, they could make out his build. Very large, with a goatee hanging out of the hood, across his chest. He moved lightly on his feet too. Smooth. Confident.

  Stopping only to press play on his iPod/speaker setup, he stepped up to the bag as he rolled his shoulders and smiled. The opening drum beats of a rock song filled the air. Mötley Crüe's “Kick Start My Heart”.

  Nice choice, Kehau mused.

  "Wonder why the music?" Carli asked curiously.

  An electric guitar kicked in and his fist began to jab in short, fast punches. He set into a rhythm, a human metronome, fists keeping time with the beat of the song.

  "He keeps it up, they'll need to replace the bag."

  "Well alrighty then," Kehau stated, "let's get leg day done."

  By the time they were done with front and back squats, the song had changed to “Cherry Pie” by Warrant. With the slower beat he set to work on power, throwing slower uppercuts and heavy hits at the bag. Kehau winced with the sound of the strikes.

  If I tried to do that, I'd break every bone in my arm, she realized.

  The hood of his sweater had fallen back to reveal long black hair with an equally dense mustache and goatee. From this side, he seemed cute in a rough way.

  "Kehau, you're up," Carli announced.

  "Yeah, quit enjoying the scenery," Pua egged on.

  Heat rose to her cheeks and she could feel a blush starting. "I am not!" Kehau retorted.

  "Sure you aren't." Carli and Pua rolled their eyes.

  "He's like a dark-haired version of Thor," Pua declared. "Bet he's got a hot accent too."

  "Kehau wants to see how he handles his hammer,” Carli added.

  "Oh shut the hell up!" Kehau replied without rancor.

  "Kehau! We need to talk!"

  Oh damn it. Sione.

  "No. We don't, Sione."

  "You can't just walk out on me like that."

  "Leave me alone."

  "No." He grabbed her wrist. "Nobody walks away from me."

  "Go to hell you bitch," she snarled, trying to yank her arm away.

  Kehau never saw the hand that struck her, just stars as her head whipped around. Ears ringing, she blinked trying to clear the stars from her view.

  "Let her go."

  The music had stopped and she could see clear enough to make out Thor standing there in his olive green sweater. His face was calm enough. But Kehau knew a thing or two about body language. He was mad.

  Jaxson Kuznia liked quiet. It was why he came to this gym. The owner kept it spotless, they didn't play crappy pop music over the intercom, and he never had to wait for a spot on the machines. Today was Saturday, which meant thirty minutes of light cardio and a soak in the pool. Nothing hard or crazy.

  The last two months he’d been busy at work. Running an international business meant one dealt with constant meetings and negotiations, even for an outfit as small as his was. A weekend to relax was exactly what he needed before he headed back out the door Monday morning. And few people had the right to bother Jax on his down time. None of those people currently lived on the island of Oahu.

  Nearly six foot tall in his bare feet, he was two hundred seventy-one pounds of hard, dense muscle. Jax didn't consider himself a handsome man, but a capable one. And you never counted him out of a fight, as more than a few had learned. At thirty-three years old, he’d seen and lived through plenty of trouble. The scar that started over Jax’s left eye and slashed down across his cheek to just below his ear was a permanent testament to this. He’d walked away. They hadn't. Paid to be a winner, sucked to be a loser.

  Setting up for his routine, he’d seen the girls around the squat rack. A tiny redhead, a bleach blonde, and a dark-haired local girl. He'd looked them over once, out of habit. Skin tight yoga pants, baggy tank tops, and doesn't the local girl just fill everything out so nicely? Girl was not appropriate. That one was all woman, more than noticeable in her sports bra. He stole a few more glances, flipped on his stereo system iPod set to “shuffle”, waiting for a random song to start. The opening riffs of “Kickstart My Heart”, filled the air. Yeah, boy. Gimme the beat, Tommy. His fists began to fly in rapid jabs as he surrendered himself to the slamming tempo. Thirty minutes of this and he’d be feeling perfect.

  The first sign of trouble came when he saw the angry young man storm through the doors. Jax was a product of a hard school, and he hadn't graduated from it by a failure to pay attention. The boy was mad, and looking for trouble. Two bucks says this clown heads straight for the girls.

  Which he did. I hate when I’m right like this.

  Jax was content to leave them be, right up until he watched the boy haul back a hand to slap the local girl. Don’t do it, boy. Don't make me come over there. He continued to watch as the hand met the girl's face, jarring her head. Yep. Wayne Brady’s about to get up out this car.

  He turned toward the fighting couple even as his mind dimly noted that Alice Cooper’s “Under My Wheels” had started to play. His stride lengthened as he walked over to them, his hands hanging loose and easy at his sides. The boy, “Sione,” Jax thought he’d heard somebody say, had five inches on him, with a wiry build common to receivers and track stars. In a fight, he had the reach. But Jax knew plenty about getting close and putting a hurt on somebody. It was how he’d spent his whole life.

  “Leave her alone,” Jax ordered in a conversational tone.

  "The fuck you say to me?" Sione demanded.

  "Let her go. And walk away," he told Sione once more.

  "How about you go fuck yourself?" Sione suggested.

  "Name’s Jax,” he said calmly. “And I don't think I will.”

  Kehau watched him, begging with her eyes for him to get away. Sione was good at hurting people, and she didn't want this Jax character to get mixed up in something that was her fault.

  “I don't care what your name is. Go fuck yourself,” Sione said cockily. “Besides, what are you going to do about it?”

  “You really want to find out?” Jax spoke in a voice colder than ice, totally at odds with the manic smile spreading across his face.

  Sione slapped Kehau again, a stinging backhand. This time Kehau blacked out for a moment. When she came to, Sione wasn't holding onto her anymore. Where did he go? she wondered.

  That was when she heard the sound of fists striking skin. Going to school at Kahuku made it a readily identified sound. Sione was getting knocked around the workout space by Jax. Blood poured out of Sione's nose and from the way he was getting hit, she could imagine it hurt.

  Hope it stings you bastard.

  Sione backed up, and Kehau got a good look at his face. Jax had used his fists with precision, cutting Sione's handsome face wide open. There were welts, bruises, and blood everywhere. Sione roared angrily at the sight that greeted him in the mirror, then pulled a wicked-looking switchblade knife from his pocket.

  “
I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker,” he snarled, slashing viciously.

  He lunged forward slashing wildly, narrowly missing Jax’s face. Sione would step in, slashing the blade from side to side while Jax bobbed left and right, dodging the blade.

  “First rule of battle: the enemy gets a vote,” Jax declared calmly.

  Sione lunged again, sticking the knife deep into the other man’s arm. He tried to yank it loose, but it remained stuck.

  A scream rose from Kehau’s throat.

  “Second rule of battle,” Jax said ominously. “Learn to ignore the pain.” His face never broke from that wildly crazy grin.

  Kehau’s scream died as she watched him step inside the next punch Sione threw. His arm curled around Sione’s, just above the elbow, trapping it tight as he rotated, forcing Sione off-balance. Then Jax formed a fist with his free hand, aimed at Sione’s exposed ribs. One…two…three rocket jabs into his rib cage! The third time it made a sick, wet, meaty crunch. He rotated before Sione could even fully register what was going on, and threw him over his body in a flying mare.

  Sione landed flat on his back with a WHUMP. His fist was still trapped inside the crook of the injured arm as Jax dropped to a knee and twisted, taking Sione's arm with him. There was a vicious CRACK and a ripping sound that made her eyes water all over again.

  The young man screamed in agony, his arm and shoulder pointing in the wrong direction, with an extra bend in it that hadn't been there before.

  Looking over his shoulder at the trainer holding a phone, Jax spoke once more. "Call the police and an ambulance. Stupid here is gonna need it."