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Nessie was quiet for a long moment, her fingers still tracing the edges of Oliver’s artwork. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.

“He wasn’t like that at first. Alek, I mean. When I met him, he was charming, successful, everything I thought I wanted. I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, trying to make it as an actress in LA. He swept me off my feet.”

She moved away from the refrigerator, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked to the small living room. Jax followed, Echo padding silently beside him.

“He was older, established. He owned restaurants and had connections in the entertainment industry. He said he could help my career, and I believed him. I was so naive.”

Jax settled on the edge of the couch, his hands clenched on his thighs. He could already see where this was going, and it made his jaw ache from how hard he was clenching his back teeth.

“It started small,” Nessie continued, still standing by the window, looking out at the dark street.

“He’d suggest what I should wear, who I should talk to.

He said he was protecting me, that the industry was dangerous for someone like me.

And I bought it because I was young and stupid and thought that’s what love looked like. ”

The bitterness in her voice cut through him. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t stupid, that predators were good at what they did, but he sensed she needed to get this out.

“By the time I realized what was happening, I was completely isolated. He’d driven away all my friends, convinced me my family didn’t understand our relationship. And then I got pregnant.”

She turned from the window, and even in the dim light, he saw the pain etched on her face.

“I thought having a baby would change things. Make him softer, maybe. But it just made him more controlling. He monitored everything—what I ate, where I went, who I talked to. He had people watching me all the time. I couldn’t even go to the grocery store alone.”

Jax’s hands were shaking now, and he pressed them against his thighs to still them. The urge to find this Alek Sarkisian and tear him apart was so strong that he vibrated with it.

“I stayed for three more years after Oliver was born,” she whispered. “Six years in total of walking on eggshells, of pretending everything was fine. I told myself I was protecting Oliver, that he needed his father. But really, I was just scared.”

“What changed?” Jax asked.

Nessie’s face went pale. “I found out what he really did for a living. The restaurants were just a front. He was involved in human trafficking, moving girls who looked just like I had when I was eighteen. Young, naive, desperate for a break.”

Human trafficking. Jesus Christ. It was so much worse than he’d suspected.

She shook her head. “Now, I know I was meant to be another victim, just another girl to ship off God knows where, but for whatever reason, he kept me instead. But at the time, I thought part of him loved me, so I confronted him about it. Told him I was taking Oliver and leaving. He laughed at me. Said I belonged to him, that Oliver belonged to him, and if I ever tried to leave, he’d make sure I disappeared just like the girls who tried to run from his operations. ”

Jax’s vision went red around the edges, that familiar darkness creeping in—the one that whispered about violence, justice, and making things right with his fists. But he forced himself to breathe, to stay present. This wasn’t about him. This was about Nessie, about the hell she’d survived.

“But you did leave,” he said when he could trust himself to speak.

She nodded. “I had help. One of the federal agents investigating Alek’s operation approached me. Agent Brandt. He offered me a deal to testify against Alek in exchange for protection. A new life for me and Oliver.”

“And you took it.”

“I was terrified,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t let Oliver grow up in that world. I couldn’t let him think that’s what love looked like.”

The apartment fell silent except for the sound of their breathing and the hum of the refrigerator.

Jax stared at his hands, at the bruises on his knuckles that were turning ugly shades of yellow.

The woman he’d fallen for —because that’s what had happened, wasn’t it?

He’d fallen for her completely—had survived unimaginable violence.

And he’d punched a cop in front of her. He’d shown her the exact kind of violence she’d spent four years running from.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words scraping his throat raw. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nessie. When I hit that deputy, when you saw me like that?—”

“You’re not him,” she said quickly. “You’re nothing like him.”

“How can you be sure?” The question tore out of him. “You know my history. I snapped once before so completely I couldn’t tell reality from the fucked-up fictions in my head. So how can you know I won’t?—”

“Because Alek never apologized. Never felt guilty. Never tried to be better.” She moved to the couch and sat down beside him, taking his hand in hers. She rubbed her fingers over his bruises. “You hate the violence in yourself. He celebrated it.”

Jax looked at her, this woman who’d survived hell and still found the strength to be kind, to build a life for her son, to see good in a broken man like him.

“I scared you,” he said. “When I punched Murdock. I saw it in your eyes.”

“You did,” she admitted. “But not because I thought you’d hurt me. Because I thought you’d hurt yourself. That you’d end up back in prison, and Oliver would lose someone else he cares about.”

The words hit him harder than any physical blow.

Oliver would lose someone else.

Not just her—Oliver. The kid who drew imaginary pets because he was too lonely for real ones had somehow decided Jax was worth caring about.

Tears suddenly burned in his eyes. “I don’t know what that kid sees in me.”

“I do.” She shifted closer, and before he realized her intention, her lips brushed his. “I know exactly what he sees, because I see it, too.”