Page 87 of Coming In Hot

And just like that, it feels easy again. Messy, yeah—but the kind of messy I can live with.

Or at least drink through.

CHAPTER29

PHARO

It starts with a sound—softat first. A rustle of sheets, a shift of his body. Then the sharp, guttural edge of a name torn from his throat.

“Jordan—no, no,Jordan?—”

My eyes snap open.

Jax thrashes beside me, caught somewhere between sleep and hell. His jaw clenches, breath coming in ragged gasps, and his fingers clutch at the blanket like he’s trying to hold something that’s already gone.

I sit up fast, heart hammering.

“Jax,” I say, reaching for his shoulder. He doesn’t hear me. Doesn’t feel me. He’s lost in it.

“Jax,” I say again, louder this time. My hand grips his arm, firm but careful. “Hey. You’re dreaming. You’re safe. It’s me.”

He jerks like he’s been hit. His eyes open wide—blank, distant, like he doesn’t recognize me. That’s the part that guts me. That flicker of pure panic before recognition sets in. LikeI’mthe enemy.

“Pharo?” he breathes, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. I’m here.” I cup the back of his neck and lean in, grounding him with my hands, my voice, whatever I can offer. “You’re okay. You’re out. He’s gone.”

He swallows hard, blinking fast, like he’s trying to force himself back into this moment, this room, this bed. His chest rises and falls in shallow waves.

I shift closer, pressing our foreheads together.

“You don’t have to go through that alone,” I whisper. “Not anymore.”

He never should have had to face it alone. I should have been there from the first night.

Jax exhales shakily, the fight slowly leaving his body. One of his hands finds mine under the blanket, rough fingers curling tight.

“I couldn’t save him,” he says, barely audible.

“I know,” I whisper. “But you’re still here. And I’m not going anywhere. I was there the day it happened when you saw it for the first time, and I’m here now. And I swear to God, the next time you have this nightmare, I’ll be right here.”

We stay like that for a long time. His heartbeat slowly calms beneath my palm, and the only sound is the quiet night pressing in around us.

I don’t let go.

By the time his breathing evens out, my eyes are still wide open, staring at the ceiling like it’s going to give me answers. I don’t sleep. Not really. Just lie there, listening to the soft rhythm of Jax’s breaths, steady now, no more whispers of Jordan’s name in his sleep.

It’s morning before I know it. Pale light slips through the blinds, painting the room in soft gray. I shift a little, and Jax stirs beside me. He blinks slowly, like his body’s reluctant to admit it’s awake.

He groans and throws an arm over his face. “Fuck.”

“Morning to you, too, sunshine,” I say gently, my voice low so it doesn’t feel like too much.

“Did I…” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me. The screaming did.” I offer a half-smile, not teasing exactly—just trying to ease the sharp edges.

He winces. “Shit. I’m sorry.”