Page 46

Sometimes he wakes up shaking. Sometimes he doesn’t wake up at all and I have to pull him out of whatever memory has him trapped. Those are the nights I hold him until he falls back asleep. The days are easier, at least a little.

Right now, Jaxon is curled up in the window seat of my office with a book in his hands. Sunlight spills across him through the glass, catching in his dark hair while he turns a page.

When I offered to bring things over from his apartment, he hardly asked for anything. Just his books and his knitting supplies. The sight of him still makes something twist in my chest.

His phone buzzes beside him, drawing my attention away from the paperwork spread across my desk.

Other than a brief call to his boss a few days ago, the thing hasn’t made a sound since he got here. That conversation hadn’t gone well. His boss wasn’t exactly thrilled about losing one of his best workers. As a contractor, he has no guarantee his job will still be waiting when he’s fully recovered.

The thought doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it did Jaxon. Because he isn’t going back to construction. Hell, he isn’t going back to breaking his body for anyone. I’ll make sure of that.

Jaxon turns another page before reaching for his phone. At first, his expression is blank. Then all the color drains from his face. The book slips from his fingers and lands forgotten in his lap. Every instinct in my body immediately goes on alert.

“Jaxon?” His eyes stay fixed on the screen. Whatever he’s reading, it’s bad.

I don’t wait for an answer. I’m out of my chair and crossing the room before he can say a word. When I reach him, he looks up at me. Those big brown eyes are wide with something dangerously close to fear. My stomach drops.

“Jaxon?”

His throat works as if he’s trying to speak, but no sound comes out. Then I notice the slight tremor in his hand. Without me asking, he holds the phone out to me. The gesture hits harder than it should. Because a week ago, he would’ve suffered through whatever this was alone. Now he’s handing me the problem without hesitation. Trusting me to help carry it. I take the phone from his shaking fingers and glance down at the screen. Already knowing I’m not going to like whatever I’m about to read.

I scan the messages once. Then a second time. Each one is making my jaw lock tighter.

Henry: This isn’t over. You still have a debt to pay.

Henry: You’ve had a week to recover. I’ll send you a time and location soon.

Henry: Your new friends can’t save you. It would be a shame for them to get hurt.

By the time I reach the last message, something cold settles in my chest. Rage. The kind that turns everything sharp and focused. The kind Mom is always warning me about. I slowly lower the phone and look at Jaxon.

He’s gone pale. Paler than he was after waking up from his nightmares. Paler than he was when Ronan told him about the Russians. His hands are clenched so tightly in his lap that his knuckles have turned white. I immediately drop to one knee beside the window seat so we’re eye level.

“Hey.” His eyes snap to mine. “Look at me.”

It takes him a second, but eventually his attention settles fully on me.

“You are not going anywhere with Henry.” I keep my voice calm. Steady. Like the words are already fact. “And nobody is touching a single person in this family.”

His throat works.

“Conor—”

“No.” I take one of his hands and force his fingers to unclench before threading mine through them.

“Listen to me, A Chroí.” I wait until I’m certain I have his attention. “This is not your problem to carry by yourself anymore.”

“You’re in danger because of me, Conor.” His eyes go wide as the thought takes hold.

“Fuck.” He jerks forward in the window seat, his hand tightening painfully around mine. “Your mom.” The color drains even further from his face.

“What if they go after her?” His breathing starts to quicken. Panic is evident in each word, each shaky breath.

“Jaxon—”

“Ollie.” The word comes out like he’s been punched. Pure horror flashes across his face.

“Jesus Christ.” His chest rises sharply. “What if he knows about Ollie?”