Page 52 of Storm and Tempest

Jax winced. “She seemed kind of hurt that I haven’t talked to her. Maybe I should’ve made more of an effort, but she’s always with her mom.”

“If Zeyla wanted to get to know Kenna and any of us, she could’ve done that weeks ago. She’s going to get mad about it now like that’s her prerogative.”

“Maybe she thought she had time, and when Kenna was taken, she realized the opportunity she’d lost.” Jax shrugged. “I can certainly understand that.”

Ramon glanced at him. “Do you have to be reasonable about it?”

“It’s called empathy.”

“I’m sure it’s easier to feel other people’s pain than your own. Because then you don’t have to deal with your problems. You’re just so worried about everyone else’s.”

Jax clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Now he gets it.”

Ramon almost laughed. “I’m gonna go check on Maizie’s progress.”

Jax had never thought he would come to appreciate Ramon’s role in Kenna’s life, but if this continued, they might actually wind up friends. The reality was, Ramon probably had feelings for Zeyla, but didn’t know if he could trust her with what her mom had done—keeping from them the fact she knew that Kenna was alive.

And yes, Jax was pushing away his own feelings while focusing on others. If he didn’t, he would end up spinning out. He’d find himself in over his head more than that extremely mild anxiety attack he’d had in the entryway. Kenna needed him focused, not fractured.

He had to hold it together.

Jax stepped into the drab office where Amara and Bruce stood watching Samuel, who had been secured to a simplewooden chair. Cords came out of the wall where equipment had been plugged in. A stack of boxes had been flattened and laid in a pile. Ceiling tiles lined the space above him, one of which was askew.

Samuel’s chin hung on his chest, his breathing steady. He might be faking being unconscious, but Jax wasn’t sure. Why fight his way out now when he could wait until there were less people around?

“Out.” Jax motioned them to the door, and they stepped into the hall. He said, “Maizie is working with Elliot. You’re going to give her access to every communication you have with these people so she can try and find Kenna with it. And no one leaves this building without me knowing.” He glanced at Bruce, then looked at his watch. “We’re having a team meeting at six.”

“I’ll call for dinner. Get something delivered.”

Amara looked at Bruce. “You’re onboard with this?”

“Cards on the table.”

Amara didn’t like that.

Jax said, “If we’re going to find Kenna, it will be because we worked together.”

He wanted to call Preston Lightwood for the additional resources, knowing he would come with Miami Security International—the men who had rescued them from Mexico. But those same people had also lied to Kenna, dropped a bomb of information on her about her mother, and somewhat helped her resolve the situation. He should warn the team that if things moved in the direction where he needed a tactical team, he wanted them on standby. After all, he figured they owed Kenna a favor.

How he would pay for their services, he had no idea. The only savings he had was the downpayment for the “forever home” he wanted to buy when he and Kenna had kids.

He didn’t want to use it on…never mind. There would be no forever home if he didn’t get her back. So he figured he could pull together the money if he needed it.

“If we get her back, it will be because wetalkedto each other and helped each other,” Jax said. “Secrets get people killed. It’s who these people are, pitting us against one another and undermining what we think we know. Hiding things from each other isn’t going to get us a result.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Unless you don’t want her back. Maybe that’s your plan. Keep her in there, so you have an ‘in’ with them. Is that your game?”

“You keep saying that.” Amara started to walk away. “But you don’t realize I’m not playing.”

Bruce lifted his chin and followed her.

Jax watched them go, then stepped into the room and closed the door.

Samuel sat there staring at him, probably having listened to that entire exchange. His suit was sweat stained and dirty. One shoe missing. His hair mussed. They hadn’t given him clean clothes, and the smell had a tang.

Samuel lifted his chin. “Guess you’ve got this all figured out.”

Of course, a CIA agent no doubt trained in interrogation tactics would try to spin this to catch Jax off guard. Or use a tactic that made Jax question his resolve.

Samuel continued, “I’m the ticket to all this. The way to get your wife back.”