Chapter Text
Chapter One: Darcy
Summers in Virginia were always thick with humidity. As a kid, I complained about it constantly, but Jax wouldn’t even bat an eye. Why would he? Virginia was his turf; Colorado was mine. Or, at least, it used to be.
I still remembered the day we officially moved, the summer before we turned twelve.
That same dreadful heat had wrapped around me like a damp blanket, refusing to let go. I swatted at a swarm of flies that seemed to be attacking me for the simple crime of existing—or maybe they were just attracted to the heavy scent of my mom’s distinct rose perfume.
“Do we have to live here?” I groaned, dragging out the words to make sure my parents knew exactly how miserable I was.
“Honey, we’ve been over this countless times,” Mom said, offering a patient smile.
“But the weather is unbearable!” I protested.
Mom gestured toward the driver's seat. “Your father grew up in this climate and he survived. So did the rest of your family.”
“Womp, womp,” I mumbled. It was my default response whenever I couldn’t find better words to argue. Both of my parents laughed, their profiler brains probably tracking my exact level of theatrics.
“You’ll like it here, Darcy. I promise,” Mom added gently. I desperately hoped she was right.
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the Townsend house. To call it large would be an understatement. The estate was tucked away behind heavily guarded gates in an exclusive golf community. From what I’ve counted on the drive in, there were only about thirty other houses in the entire neighborhood.
Dad stepped up to the massive front door, raising his fist to knock, but before his knuckles could even graze the wood, it swung wide open.
“Dean-o!” Aunt Lia pounced, throwing her arms around my dad and causing him to lose his balance for a split second.
“Jesus, Lia-.” Despite the near heart attack, Dad smiled, returning the hug.
Lia pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe if you didn't go almost a year without a single check-in, I wouldn't have to ambush you.”
Before Dad could answer, her sharp, deception-detecting eyes landed on me. “Darcy! My oh my, look at you.”
“Lia, dial back on the lovebombing.” Uncle Michael said, appearing in the doorway behind her, his gaze already swept over us to read the room's emotional energy.
Aunt Lia ignored him, stepping forward to touch my face. Her thumbs traced my cheeks before she reached up to fiddle with a stray lock of my red hair.
“Hmm. You have Cassie’s hair palette,” she mused, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “But you are still entirely your daddy’s little girl.”
“Mom, don't say it like that.”
Jax joined the crowd on the porch. His mom unintentionally blocked my view of him as she continued her thorough examination of my appearance, noting how my skin matched my dad's sun-kissed tone and how much my features popped. By the time she finally stepped aside, Jax was already caught up saying hello to my parents, keeping his back to me.
Uncle Michael stepped up next, pulling me into a hug. I squeezed him extra hard, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of the expensive cologne he had worn for as long as I could remember.
I’d never admit it out loud, but out of everyone in our extended "Natural" family, I missed Uncle Mikey the most. It wasn't because he was better than the others or gave the best gifts; they all spoiled me. It was because he was the one who babysat me the most when I was little.
Even though he and my dad constantly bicker—mostly because Dad's logical profiling mind genuinely disagreed with him, and Uncle Mikey just liked to push his buttons by manipulating the emotional atmosphere—he had been a constant for most of my childhood.
When I pulled away and opened my eyes, a soft smile tugged at the corner of Uncle Mikey’s mouth. He instantly read the wave of nostalgia washing over me and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ve missed you too, kiddo,”
I glanced over his shoulder, expecting to finally catch Jax's eye, but he had gone back into the house.
“Jax, dear!” Aunt Lia called out into the foyer. “Make sure the table is set!”
She ushered us inside, immediately launching into a barrage of questions about my life. I always felt completely exposed around Aunt Lia. As a living lie detector, she could catch the slightest shift in voice or hesitation, and she used it to her full advantage.
“So, Darcy,” she asked, leaning in with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Any new boyfriends back in Colorado?”
My cheeks immediately flared bright red. From across the room, I caught Jax watching me from the kitchen island, where he was pouring drinks. His expression was completely neutral, but there was a sudden stiffness in his posture.
I forced the thoughts away, telling myself he was just being protective. That's what family-friends do, I reasoned. He's just looking out for me.
“No,” I replied.
The second the word left my mouth, I noticed the subtle shift in Jax. His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, his jaw relaxing as he turned his attention back to the glasses. He walked over and handed each of us our drinks. I muttered a quick thank you, taking a sip just to give my restless hands something to do.
Uncle Mikey, picking up on the sudden spike of anxiety radiating off me, seamlessly stepped in to alter the mood. He shifted the conversation, asking my parents about the grueling mission that had kept us separated from the family for so long.
The assignment had required Mom and Dad to use their profiling skills around the clock, traveling on alternating weeks. They were almost never in the same place at the same time, constantly juggling their schedules so someone could always be home with me.
It had been exhausting; I could see the toll it took in the dark shadows beneath their eyes. I didn't even want to imagine how many all-nighters they had pulled.
Even now, I barely knew the details of what they had been analyzing. All I knew was that they had to keep a low profile and completely disconnect from everyone we loved. It had been lonely, but I managed.
I had switched to online schooling, saw a tutor three times a week, and buried myself in books. Jane Austen had quickly become a favorite of mine—a recommendation Uncle Mikey had given me right before the radio silence began.
Now that Jax had finally taken a seat across from me at the dining table, I took my time studying him, mirroring the way his mother had scrutinized me earlier.
His amber eyes hadn't changed, still harboring that familiar glint of mischief that made you wonder what he was planning. In the warm, yellow dining room light, his dark hair looked almost black, though I knew it would turn a rich brown the second the sunlight hit it. He was tall and lean—frail, likely because he was putting all his energy into track. He wore a silver chain with a small lock pendant around his neck, and a simple black hoodie that his mom was already nagging him to take off. When he finally relented, the brown polo shirt underneath made his features stand out even more.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped to mine. Caught staring, I immediately looked down at my plate, shoving a piece of chicken into my mouth.
Jax had always possessed an uncanny, wicked sense when it came to reading people, inheriting the best of both his parents' traits. Trying to hide anything from him when we were kids had been completely useless. It was the exact reason playing card games with him had never been any fun.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An example is from summer when we turned eight, we were playing hide-and-seek in the woods behind my nonna’s special cabin. I had crawled deep into the hollow of an old oak tree, holding my breath until my lungs burned, absolutely certain I had picked the one spot he’d never find.
Within two minutes, the leaves crinkled outside. Jax leaned his head into the hollow, a smug, triumphant grin posted across his face.
"How do you always do that?!" I had complained, crossing my arms as I crawled out into the dirt. "You didn't even count to sixty!"
"I don't need to count, Darc," he had said, brushing a stray leaf out of my red hair. "You leave clues everywhere. Your breathing gets too fast when you're excited, your fingers start tapping the bark, and your shoulders always bunch up right before you think you're about to get caught. I'll always know how to find you. That's just how I know it's Darcy."
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back then, it was just a silly childhood game. But sitting here at the dining table years later, watching him pass the salad bowl with that same effortless ease, a sudden wave of heat rushed to my cheeks.
He still knows all my tells.
With his mix of Aunt Lia's knack for catching a lie and Uncle Mikey's emotional radar, my usual armor was completely useless. If I wasn't careful, he was going to look right through me and realize exactly how much had changed since we were little kids.
“Darcy, are you eager to begin attending this new school with Jax and Leo?” Aunt Lia asked.
Jax looked like he could care less about the conversation. I watched as he poked at his salad, his expression totally bored.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and casual.
“Lie~” Aunt Lia sang out instantly.
“You’re nervous,” Uncle Mikey added, a knowing look in his eye as he caught the emotional spike I was trying to hide.
My lips twisted into a frown. Lying and masking my expressions were easy habits I had gotten away with in Colorado, where I could just profile people to stay one step ahead. But here in Virginia, surrounded by this family, all truths and hidden intentions surfaced in a matter of seconds—whether you wanted them to or not.
“I am,” I admitted, shoulders dropping. “Colorado is my home. Virginia has been a summer location for the longest time, so being here permanently still just feels like a vacation.”
Aunt Lia hummed an approving tune, satisfied with the honesty. Across the table, Jax snorted.
“Summer location? Must be nice—”
His words cut off abruptly, his face scrunching up as his expression shifted into an instantly forced, tight smile. I was willing to bet my aunt had just stepped hard on his foot under the table as a warning.
Dad cleared his throat, seamlessly cutting through the brief tension. “What about you, Jax? Are you playing any sports at school this year?”
Jax shoved a huge piece of salmon in his mouth, taking his sweet time chewing as he thoroughly thought out his response. “Hm, I suppose I’ve been bouncing around a bit. Right, mother?”
“Oh yes,” Aunt Lia added. “Our Jax here is planning to try out baseball in the spring.”
Dad hummed, “What happened to cross country and track?”
“I still plan on doing cross country in the fall, but I don’t plan on doing track anymore.”
“How come?” Mom asked. Her sudden curiosity matched my own. Jax’s hands were hidden under the table. He must be experiencing the same thing with the parents.
“Um, I didn’t-”
Aunt Lia jumped right in, “What Jax here is trying to say is he’s sick of constantly running around in circles. We all agreed that in order to flourish, he needs to learn how to adjust to change.”
Jax snapped a finger at his mom, “Exactly.”
I tilted my head, noticing a small scar on his elbow. I opened my mouth to ask, but was interrupted with mom shifting the conversation.
The rest of the dinner went on normally, the conversation flowing around us. The only real difference between this visit vs. our childhood visits was that Jax and I didn’t run off to play outside after clearing the plates. We were too old for that now.
Instead, a strange distance hung between us. We barely spoke, only exchanging a brief wave when it was finally time for my parents and me to leave.
It hurt. I didn't know if it was just because it had been so long since we last saw each other, or if he was doing it on purpose, but it felt like he had deliberately put up a wall between us.