Freya whirled, staring into the darkness.

Hands grasped at her.

“No! Jaxon’s in there,” she yelled.

“Ma’am—”

“There are more bombs!”

The man behind her wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and sprinted for safety. More hands grasped her, pulling her into an ambulance.

“No—Jaxon!” Freya shrugged off the hands, staring at the brick building

“Freya.” Shelby grasped her by the shoulders and leaned down, putting her face almost up against Freya’s. “Take a breath. They’re going in.”

“But...”

“Look at me?” Shelby cupped Freya’s cheeks. “Just look at me, okay? It’s Jaxon. Guns are no match for Jaxon, remember that, okay?”

Freya swallowed.

She’d seen what Jaxon could do with his fists, but it would only take one bullet to stop him.

Liv wrapped her arm around Freya’s waist.

“How is everyone?” she asked.

“Fine. They’re all fine, dear,” Liv said.

“We’ve got a body,” one of the officer’s radio’s announced.

Freya’s knees went weak and she collapsed onto the pavement.

It couldn’t be Jaxon...

It couldn’t...

The doors at the back of the building opened and two officers came out with Jaxon handcuffed between them.

“Jax!” Freya pushed to her feet, legs rubbery. “What are they doing? Jaxon!”

Jaxon sat across from the same two agents as the other day. The only difference between then and now was the orange jumpsuit.

He hadn’t liked it then and he liked it less now.

The two agents had the same expressions of condemnation on their faces. So far, they’d covered the exact same background questions. Again. Who he was. Where he worked. What he was studying. His immediate family.

“How long have you been following Janelle Thorburn?” the female agent asked.

Neither had given their names this go-round and Jaxon couldn’t remember them.

“I haven’t. We’ve been friends. That’s why I was looking for her in the first place,” he said slowly, careful to keep his frustration down.

“Why’d you kill your boss?” the male agent leaned forward

Jaxon bit the inside of his mouth and counted to five. He’d count to ten, but then they’d start peppering him with questions.

“I told you. I did not kill Yuri Gabor. I restrained him. He got a hand out, grabbed the gun, and shot himself.” That image would forever be burned into Jaxon’s mind.

“That’s a convenient story. No one else saw it.” The guy crossed his arms over his chest.

They’d already asked this same question over and over and over, probably hoping he’d slip up. As long as he stuck to the truth, saying the same thing over and over again, it would be fine.

Jaxon spread his hands and took a deep breath.

He would remain calm.

“You—what? Wanted to kill your boss to make yourself look innocent?” the woman asked. “Is that how this goes?”

Jaxon would remain calm. He had to.

The door banged open and a warrior in heels and a skirt stood haloed in light.

“You are not talking to my client without me, are you?” Pia Kahue smiled oh so sweetly, but it was a shark’s smile.

“Miss...” The female agent flipped through her notes.

“It’s Kahue. Now, if you’d be so kind as to give my client and myself a few moments together?” Pia held her hand out toward the door.

“Ma’am, this would go a lot easier for your client—”

“If you would shut the fuck up and stop trying to deny him his rights.” For such a little woman, Pia’s voice boomed in the space. Her sugar-sweet smile turned ice cold as she glanced from one agent to the next.

“Because I understand this is a very big case for you, I’ll let this slide.” She set her briefcase on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “But, if you keep standing in the way of my client’s rights, you’ll have a lot more me to deal with. I love my job, and I especially love defending the innocent, and Jaxon Wilson is about as innocent as they come. I’m salivating to take this on, so just try me. Please. I will wipe the floor with your ass, this team and whoever your boss is. It’ll be so clean you’ll be eating off it for a week while you grovel, kissing my toes. Think real hard about how much of me you want to mess with.”

The two agents shared a glance and collected their papers.

Jaxon was able to keep a straight face, mostly due to sheer exhaustion.

Now he understood why Javier liked Pia so much. Why they’d been friends since childhood. Javier liked to get away with shit, and Pia wasn’t the kind to put up with much.

She let the door slam shut behind the two agents and made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat.

“People like them give cops a bad name.” Pia wrinkled her nose and turned to face Jaxon. “I was really hoping we wouldn’t see each other again so soon, Jax.”

“Me, too, Pia. Thanks for coming. I’m sorry for getting you out of bed.”

“Jax, I don’t always get to represent good people. You’re one of the good ones. Tell me what happened from the beginning.” She took one of the two newly vacated seats and opened her briefcase.

“From the beginning?” Pia prompted, notebook in hand.

Jaxon started from the last time he’ seen Pia, sticking to the facts, in order of events. She made a face when he talked about bolting from FBI custody, but otherwise didn’t stop him for questions. She hurriedly jotted down notes, nodding.

“One minute Freya was there, the next she was gone. The guys had Liv out of the SUV and were working on wrangling the hired guys, so I followed Freya into whatever the building on the northern side of the site was. That’s when the car bomb detonated.” Jaxon could still feel the rain of glass. The thousand and one tiny cuts all over his arms and face. “I lost sight of Freya, but found her facing off with Yuri. He had a gun. They were yelling at each other, but I couldn’t really hear what they were saying. I did catch the word bomb, though.”

“The post-detonation ringing, yeah. Go on.”

“He pivoted, pointing the gun away from her. I went for him. Tackled him. We went to the ground. He dropped the phone. We wrestled around. That’s when Freya clocked him with that piece of rebar. Tore up the side of his face and rung his bell. That’s when I flipped him over and we used my belt to restrain him.”

“We?”

“Freya and I. She unbuckled my belt and pulled it off while I held Yuri immobile.”

“Okay, continue.”

“He was a lot scrappier than I expected, and I figured as soon as he came to, he’d fight back again. I told Freya to go get the cops because the way I saw it, this was what they wanted. Yuri alive. There might be more bombs. And if she wasn’t there, she couldn’t get hurt.”

“Freya, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“Yuri started kicking his leg. I let go of his left wrist to get him pinned down better, and...that’s when it happened.” Jaxon stared at the light gleaming off the table.

“When what happened?”

“That’s when Yuri shot himself. He just grabbed it and...”

“Jax? Jaxon?” Pia leaned toward him.

“Sorry, I just...never seen that before, you know?”

“It’s difficult to see.” Her smile was sad. As a defense attorney, she’d likely seen plenty. “The gun. You said you never touched it?”

“I don’t mess with guns.”

“You didn’t pick it up, kick it away?”

“I might have kicked it away...”

“But you never put your hands on it.”

“No, ma’am. I don’t need guns.”

“Okay...did they swab your hands at the scene?”

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Seriously?” Pia gaped at him for a second.

She pushed to her feet, marched to the door, and jerked it open. Jaxon watched her stare daggers at someone outside.

“Swab him already, will you?” Pia gestured at Jaxon. “Then we can all go home and sleep better, knowing a criminal put himself out of our misery.”

She let the door shut after a few more exchanged words. She rolled her eyes and made the same disgusted sound she had earlier.

“They want to blame someone for not catching Yuri. That’s no excuse for not doing their jobs the right way.” Pia muttered some other words.

“They’re—what? Going to swab me for gun residue?”

“Yes, and when it comes back negative, you’ll be free to go. Well, free enough. We’ll need to start working on how to spin this. They’ll probably try to charge you guys with...something. Impeding an investigation or some other bullshit to make themselves feel better. What you boys did was wrong. The law is there for a reason. We can’t have vigilantes running around.” Pia lifted her shoulder. “But...you did a good job. This time. Next time something like this happens, I’m billing you boys.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“At least Javie fell in with a good crowd this time.” Pia shook her head.

“Are the others okay?” Jaxon had asked earlier and received no answer.

“No substantial injuries. Some cuts from car debris, but otherwise okay. And they got all of the drugged-up hired thugs out safely, too.”

“Good.” Jaxon breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Pia wagged her finger in his face. “You’re one of the good ones. Stay good. Stay out of trouble. Okay?”

“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

They shared a chuckle.

Someone tapped on the door.

“Come in,” Pia said.

A guy wearing a blue jacket and a CSI badge stepped in, carrying what looked like a fishing tackle box. The two FBI agents followed, but didn’t say a word.

“I’m here to do a swab?” the guy said.

Jaxon held out his hands.

In a matter of moments, the tech had swiped every inch of Jaxon’s hands.

“What does it mean if it doesn’t change colors?” Jaxon asked peering at the swabs floating in liquid.

“It means, Mr. Wilson, that you are innocent. Now, given your proximity to the weapon you likely have some residue on you, but not enough to prove that you fired the weapon.” Pia crossed her arms over her chest, that smug smile speaking volumes.

“Get him out of here,” the male agent said, his face twisted in disgust.

“I’ll have Javie bring in some clothes for you, and then we can get you home.” Pia stood and gathered her things.

“What about Freya? Where’s she?” Jaxon still hadn’t been able to see or speak to her since those moments inside the building before Yuri shot himself. He’d thought he’d heard her when they were marching him to the car, but he couldn’t find her.

“Oh.” Pia glanced at Javier.

“Man, someone said her dad picked her up,” Javier said.

Shit.

Freya paced the too-plush VIP suite of whatever hotel her dad’s security was holding her hostage at.

At least in the Queen’s Nest she had privacy.

Her father wasn’t allowing her that.

A female guard shadowed her every move. In the bathroom. While she showered. Tried to sleep. The woman was a constant presence.

Freya had given up the pretense of doing anything but expressing her frustration. Not that her father knew or cared.

“Where is he?” She turned to address the biggest, most official looking guy at the double doors leading into the suite. “You’re in charge, right? Where’s my dad, and when will you stop holding me prisoner?”

“Your father’s ETA is imminent, ma’am,” the man said.

It was more than the woman had said to her in the last twelve hours.

She wondered if these guys were Secret Service or independent contractors. Considering their willingness to hold her hostage, she was beginning to think secret service. No one would tell her where Jaxon was or how the others were doing. If her sister was actually dead, or missing, or halfway to the moon. She couldn’t have a phone call, internet access, a laptop, or even room service. Everything in and out of the suite was being controlled by the lead penguin in charge.

Freya paced back into the suite’s living room.

If her father was going to arrive soon, she wanted to speak with him as soon as possible to get it over with.

She was not going to play stage monkey to stand at his side and say or do whatever needed doing. He hadn’t bothered to look for her and no one seemed to care that Michelle was dead or gone.

Freya needed to be with Jaxon. Needed it like her next breath. She couldn’t rest until she’d seen him, hugged him, knew that he was all right. After that, everything else would be okay. She leaned forward, staring at the light reflecting off the vase of flowers on the coffee table.

If anyone deserved her loyalty, if she was ever going to learn how to love someone, it should be him.

The suite doors opened and her father walked in, followed by two aides. Her dad had a phone pressed to his ear, and both of his paper-jockeys had somewhere to look besides her.

Freya stood, taking in her Sentatorial father.

She was his daughter. She’d been gone for weeks, not that it mattered much because they didn’t talk, but she’d have guessed her dad would have responded. At least, to control public opinion, if it ever went public. He would probably be glad to be rid of Michelle.

Her dad finally hung up the phone and handed it off.

“Hi, Dad. So nice to see you. Any news on where Michelle’s at, yet?” Freya crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sit, please?” He gestured to the sofas and then glanced at the security. “Give us the room, please?”

The head penguin in charge nodded and they filed out in fast order

Secret service then.

“Have they found a body? Is Michelle really dead?” Freya didn’t sit. She paced. Back and forth, again and again.

“Nothing, last I heard. Sit, please? We have a few things to discuss.”

“No, thanks. Being cooped up like this makes me anxious. Michelle?”

“Will pop up whenever she needs something.” He sighed.

“Really? Someone said they murdered her, and you aren’t going to look? Ask around? Anything? She’s your daughter.”

“And so are you.” He had the gall to smile at her.

“You never looked for me, either, did you?” She braced her hands on the back of the sofa, searching his face.

“You’re a capable young woman. I trusted you would be fine.” The lies just poured out of him, smooth as silk.

“Wow.” Freya shook her head.

“I’m having your room freshened up—”

“No.” Freya straightened.

“Janelle—”

“I haven’t gone by Janelle since high school, dad. It’s Freya. Fre-ya.”

“Honey, after what you’ve been through the best thing is for you to come home.”

“No. Not just no, but hell no. You don’t care about me. If you did you’d have been looking for me before now, but I don’t matter to you. Let me guess, this has something to do about the inheritance mom left us, doesn’t it?” Freya caught the flinch. It was small, slight, but she’d become something of a study when it came to her father’s tells.

“Honey, you’re stressed. You’re overreacting—”

“Overreacting?” She shouted the word. “If you want to see overreacting I’ll show you overreacting, Dad.”

“Calm down, Janelle.”

“It’s Freya!” She stared at her father. “You know what? I hope Michelle’s alive and that she drains the trust dry. I hope she impersonates me and takes all the money. That’s what I hope.”

“We’ll talk when you’ve had a chance to cool down. I’m not speaking to you when you’re this unreasonable.” Her father stood, flanked by his mute drones.

“At least I react when my family is in trouble. You don’t even care.” Freya watched her father retreat to the conference room within the suite to lick his wounds.

She finally understood the stipulation of the inheritance, that she had to get married. It was Mom’s way of making sure she and Michelle got out. That they were free from their father’s thumb, constantly pressing them into a mold they would never fit.

Jaxon wouldn’t do that to her.

Freya peered at the suite doors.

Security wasn’t coming back, and her dad was in the next room.

She tiptoed to the phone and picked it up.

She dialed Jaxon’s number from memory and held her breath.

“Hello?”

“Jax?” She gripped the phone cord in her free hand.

“Freya? Where are you?”

“I’m at...a hotel. The penthouse suite.”

“They said your dad picked you up...”

“Yeah, I might as well be in the Queen’s Nest, again.” She sighed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just got home and laid down.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I hate to ask you to do this...”

“Freya, what is it?”

“I’m going to get out of here, one way or another. Would...could you...”

“I’ll be there in...a few.”

“Okay. Thanks. See you soon.”

She hung up.

Now, how did she get out of the suite?

She bit her lip and mulled over her options.

The bulk of the security team was in the room off the entry. There was a team of two on the door, which was the only point of entry. She’d checked during her constant pacing.

How did she sneak out under the guard’s noses?

She hit the zero key, ringing the front desk for towels and a few other odds and ends. Then she had a call put through to the kitchen.

The security had been on her since late last night. She was starving, so they had to be equally as hungry. It was worth a try, at least.