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Charlie
Both.
34
JACKSON
A harsh,cold wind whips around us, embodying Ethan’s icy glare. “This is the best option, Jax, at least until the baby is born.”
I clench my jaw and grind my molars. I’m sure to have a headache after this. “I have a plan. Will you fucking listen to me?”
“Yourplanis to keep her by your side. He harmed her while you were there.” He spits each word as if I don’t know. “This ismy lifewe’re talking about.” He gestures with his hands in emphasis.
“It’s my life too!” Heat creeps up my neck and face. My head swims. “I just got her back.” In and out. In and out. Breathe. “Now you want to take her from me?”
He steps closer and clasps my shoulder. My impulse is to throw him off. I’m worked up. I can’t stand anyone touching me, but right now, I allow it, and he squeezes, massaging the tense muscle.
“You’ll be with her until your suspension is over. I know it’s not long, but New York is the safest place for her. I have family there?—”
“You haven’t even met them.Theycould be dangerous.”
“My uncles took care of me when I needed it.” His grasp shifts to my nape. “I’ll have you there. You’ll scope them out for me.”
“What about me?” Ricky approaches, striding across the patio with his hands in his pockets. “I’m guessing this is about Kyle.”
How does he always appear out of nowhere?
Ethan drops his arm to his side. “As always.”
My head hangs in shame, and my gaze falls to Ricky’s boots. His feet are shoulder-width apart, one slightly back, his posture defensive and ready for action.
It’s inconspicuous, a false sense of security. That’s how they’re trained.
“Come on, pretty boy. Fight me.” The air freezes in my lungs, and my stomach tightens. That voice is only in my head, an echo from the past. It’s not real. “Fight me, pretty boy.” It’s the boots. The posture. It’s not real.
“Why don’t we go inside and talk?” Ricky suggests.
His tone is professional and placating, and it’s all fucking with my mind.
In a hyperalert state, I follow them into the kitchen and sit at the table, Ricky across from me, Ethan beside me.
I slip my phone from my pocket and place it in front of me. Ricky does the same. He’s mirroring me, another tactic they use to set you at ease.
This is an interrogation.
My instincts are never wrong. They have twenty-five years of acute conditioning.
I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I was fooled by his Viking persona, preoccupied with how close he was getting to Aurora. Although I wanted to go to the police, I wasn’t sure who to trustafter the last time I opened up to someone, and I don’t want one sitting at my kitchen table or living in my home.
Call me paranoid, but I grew up with dirty cops.
Dark rage builds in my chest. “I hired you to protect her.”
My gaze connects with Ricky’s, and something shifts in his eyes. Realization. Alarm. Guilt.
“He was disheveled and sloppy drunk, yet you let him in without question. If you were truly thinking about Aurora’s safety, that alone should’ve given you pause. You didn’t come get me. You didn’t follow him to the patio to ensure he wasn’t a threat. How were you sure he was my father?”
Ricky’s stare is unwavering. “I will always protect her.”