What makes you enemies is that he is a mercenary and you are a government agent, but you are also not enemies in the literal sense...

The warehouse groaned under the relentless storm, mirroring the turmoil in your chest. The rhythmic sound of the pursuers’ footsteps was a relentless drumbeat, each step a nail in the coffin of your escape. Panic clawed at your throat, but through the pouring rain and the echoing sounds of the pursuers, you saw him. Jax. Your enemy, chained to a chair, his usual arrogance replaced with a growl.

A muffled voice escaped his lips, a muffled plea barely audible through the rage of the storm.

“A little help here, princess.”