Jaxon held the bottle of water while the man Yuri had called Donny sucked on a straw. Jaxon had done his best to keep his hits to meaty parts of the body to reduce lasting damage, but he hadn’t been able to completely avoid beating the guy to a pulp, or knocking him out. Twice.

“Tip your head back and hold this to your nose.” Jaxon held out the napkin. Now that he’d sent his supposed photo evidence that Donny was dead, he could do something about keeping the guy alive. It might be the wrong thing to do, but Jaxon wasn’t a killer.

“You know he’s going to find out you didn’t kill me.” Donny peered up at Jaxon with his one good eye.

“Not if you skip town. Go somewhere else. Find another occupation. You want him to come after you?” Yeah, Jaxon knew he was playing with fire, but he wasn’t going to kill a guy.

Donny muttered something under his breath.

“How’s your head?” Jaxon asked.

“Fucking hurts, you dumbass.”

Jaxon didn’t point out that the only way to get a dead enough looking picture was to deliver a hard, knock-out punch to Donny’s melon. Jaxon hadn’t wanted to do it, but Donny hadn’t left him a choice. The guy wasn’t exactly cooperative.

“Think you can walk?” Jaxon checked his phone. He needed to get out of here.

“You took my phone and wallet. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You’re still breathing, ain’t you?” Jaxon slid his hand under Donny’s arm and helped him out of the back seat.

“Where the fuck are we?” Donny squinted left, then right.

“Somewhere no one would be.” Jaxon glanced around. The residential area wasn’t busy, and there weren’t many people around. Fewer eyes to spy on them. “Have a nice life, Donny.”

Jaxon slid behind the wheel and gassed it. On the other side of the block a familiar dark-colored Charger was idling, waiting for him.

Owen got out as soon as Jaxon eased to a stop. By the time he was out of the car, Owen was there.

“What the hell are you doing, Jax?” Owen glanced left then right.

“The less you know the better.” Jaxon pulled Donny’s wallet out of his pocket, removed the money and cards, and thrust it at Owen. “There’s a guy around the corner. Real beat up looking. He might be a person of interest, or whatever.”

“Jax.” Owen stared at the wallet, then Jaxon. “What the hell? I can’t do this.”

“His name’s Donny Braddock. I just faked his death and saved his life. I need him gone, or put up somewhere. The way I see it, the cops probably have some interest in him.”

“I wish I didn’t know that.” Owen shook his head. “You know that unless there’s a warrant, I won’t be able to keep him?”

“Yeah, just...take him to Kade. Get him looked at. See if you can hold him on something. Anything.”

“Fine.” Owen sighed. “I’ll take him out to the suburbs. Less chance someone out there will care who he is. I can...say I was driving a vic’ home, found him like this. Not my area, so I brought him there. It’ll keep him out of the Seattle system for a bit, but not long.”

“Sounds good. I’ve got to go.”

“Jax—the feds are asking questions.”

“Tell them what you know.”

“Which is nothing.”

“Exactly.”

Jaxon slid behind the wheel.

Time was ticking. He wasn’t supposed to work until tonight, but Thomas wanted him there. And then there was Freya. Jaxon needed to get in to see her, give her the phone, see if she knew anything else.

But would she talk to him?

He’d tried to not look at her, but he’d heard her gasp at times. She must think him a monster. He felt like one. This was why he wanted out of this kind of life. Nothing was straightforward. There were always side jobs his bosses wanted him to do that he wasn’t comfortable with. At least he’d walked into this of his own free will, for better reasons than getting a paycheck.

Jaxon got Kade on the phone to update him about Donny. Later he’d take Donny’s phone to Zach, see if they could find out anything from what was on it.

A couple weeks ago, all Jaxon had worried about was passing his class, making rent, and working up the nerve to ask Freya out.

Now he was thinking like a hired tough guy, trying to cover up a fake murder. It was all for Freya. To get her free.

Nothing was as simple as he’d thought it would be.

Jaxon arrived back at the Swan Palace in record time. Unlike before, there were cars outside, the lights were on, and business was back on track. He grabbed his work clothes and stashed the others under his seat. Prepared for just about anything, Jaxon re-entered the building only to stop short.

Thomas stood in the hall with three people toting a large case on wheels.

“There you are,” Thomas said. “Come with us.”

What the hell was going on?

They crammed into the elevator Thomas had previously said was reserved for the boss’ use only. Jaxon peered at the buttons. They weren’t labeled with floor numbers, and there were five of them. The Swan Palace had three floors. Where did the other two lead to? What did they do?

No one spoke on their ride up to the top floor.

The newcomers hardly even looked Jaxon’s way.

The elevator dinged. Thomas and Jaxon got out, while the other three wrestled with their supply case.

“Everything taken care of?” Thomas asked Jaxon. There was a new glint in his eye. Predatory.

“Yeah. You get the...?”

“I did. Good work.” Thomas approached the desk. There wasn’t anyone on duty. He jabbed the hold button and the door slid open. “I need for you to supervise our guest in one of the downstairs rooms.”

“Okay...” Jaxon shifted the bag higher on his shoulder and swallowed. Was this a trap?

“Take the elevator down one, the room across from it should be open. Don’t let anyone see you. Don’t leave her alone, not even to clean up. Understand?”

“Yeah, sure thing, boss.”

Thomas stepped into the room. “You. Come on. Now.”

Jaxon gripped the strap slung over his shoulder.

Freya edged into view. She stared at the floor, her face still pale. She wouldn’t even look at him, and why should she? She’d sat there while Jaxon offered to kill a man. He wasn’t the hero anymore, he was just another bad guy.

Seven weeks ago...

Jaxon stared at the email.

He was in.

Holy shit, he almost couldn’t believe it.

There was no real reason to believe that the community college wouldn’t welcome him back, despite the lapse in his enrollment. It was still a surreal moment to look at the registration email and realize... In a week, he was going to start school again.

If all went well and he crammed as much as he could into the two summer sessions, he could graduate as early as December.

“What’s that look for?”

“Hm?” Jaxon glanced up at Freya’s smiling face. She was doing that more, looking happy.

“You’re grinning. What’s going on?” Freya stopped at his side and peered at the darkened screen of his phone.

“Nothing.” He said the word instinctively.

No one knew. He hadn’t discussed this crazy plan with anyone. If he were honest with himself, he was afraid of failing. Again.

“All right. Fine. Be that way.” Freya’s gaze narrowed.

Jaxon opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue.

He could tell her. She’d come to Seattle for school before other things happened. She didn’t talk about it, but she’d said enough he got the gist of it.

Freya’s lips moved, but the noise from the kitchen made it hard to understand her.

“What?” He bent his head. Okay, a talk here was out of the question.

“...coffee?”

“I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee sometime.” Their faces were so close now he could see the varied shades of brown in her eyes and the glitter clinging to her lashes.

Freya chuckled, her gaze stroking down his face.

She didn’t believe in love, but he wasn’t buying that.

Over the last few months he’d gotten to know her, and he had a theory about her. Freya needed to fall in love with her mind first. Her heart would follow. He didn’t have much to offer her, but...he could share part of himself with her that he doubted others would get.

“I’d like that,” she said.

One of the servers bustled by. Freya splayed her hand against his chest, leaning close to get clear of the serving tray.

“This is kind of a busy week, though. Can we plan for later?” She was so close now he could feel the brush of her body and smell her perfume.

“Yeah, actually, that’d be better.” He had text books to buy and a schedule to figure out.

He was going to tell her. Before anyone else. Because he had a good feeling about where his life was going, the doors opening up. And, given the chance, he wanted to walk through them with her.

Jaxon was finally ready to make his move on Freya.

Present day...

Freya hugged her arms around herself and waited in the elevator.

Jaxon wasn’t looking at her. He didn’t hold her. He didn’t say anything.

There was no explanation for what’d happened earlier.

Just, silence.

She didn’t dare ask where he went or what went on. After what he’d said last night, about Yuri lying about the cameras, who knew who might be listening? Who’d see them talk? After what she’d witnessed, the last thing she wanted was to get found out. It could be Jaxon tied to a chair next. It was already her fault he was involved, she didn’t want to drive up the price Jaxon would have to pay for her sake.

Freya had always known this was a dangerous game, but it was the same thing as knowing that if a person drove a car off a cliff they’d likely die. It was the kind of thing she couldn’t wrap her head around until it was happening to her. She was strapped in and this car was already off the cliff.

“Come on. Now.” Jaxon’s stern voice broke through to her. It was too rough, nothing at all like the man she’d come to know.

She peered down the hall. The floors were hardwood and the walls done in a luxurious, brocade wallpaper. It looked expensive.

Freya stepped into a spacious room.

“Oh...God...” Freya blinked at her surroundings.

It was nothing like the hall.

“Just ignore it. Don’t look around.” Jaxon grabbed a chaise and turned it away from the focal point of the room, the big, four-poster bed.

“Is...? Can...?” She peered at the ceiling, ignoring the things hanging from it, searching for cameras or something that might betray what she wanted to say.

“Are we being watched?” Jaxon asked.

“Yeah?” She glanced at the door.

“Not that I was able to find out. No cameras upstairs, in Yuri’s office, or in the downstairs security room. It’s just us.” Jaxon set his bag on the floor near the wall.

Freya’s throat tightened and she walked straight into Jaxon’s chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

God, when she’d been sitting there, with all those people around, and he’d walked in. She’d thought for sure they knew who he was, that he meant to rescue her. And then what Yuri had forced him to do? Jaxon could have said no, but then what would have happened to him?

His hands gently pressed to her sides.

“I’m really gross,” he said.

“I don’t care.” And she didn’t. Not about the smell of sweat, his deodorant, if there was still blood on his skin. Jaxon was there. Yuri didn’t know. They were both alive. She clutched him tighter and swallowed the sob struggling to get out.

“It’s okay, Freya. Here, let me change real quick.” Jaxon stepped back, pulling out of her arms.

“What happened? Where did you go? Did you...?” She kept her focus on Jaxon and not the sex swing behind him, the big, rumpled bed or whatever the other furniture around the large room was used for.

“No, I didn’t.” Jaxon pulled his shirt up and over, wiping it across his shoulders and chest like one might use a towel.

She swallowed.

Hot damn.

She’d glimpsed Jaxon shirtless a few times when he was changing or horsing around, but there was still something glorious about a guy honed to that level of perfection. It was like he wasn’t even real.

Jaxon put on yet another clean shirt with his sweatpants and gestured at the chaise.

“Here, sit,” he said.

“I don’t want to sit. I’ve been sitting all morning.” She paced the room. “What...what happened, Jax?”

“The less you know, the better.” He lifted a water bottle out of his bag and took a pull from it. His green-gold eyes were shuttered, less open than they usually were.

“You’ve got to tell me something.” She took a step closer to him. “Please? I’m going crazy in here not knowing what’s going on.”

He was all she had. Her only line to the outside world. She needed him more than he could ever know.

“Come here.” Jaxon patted the cushion next to him.

“I can’t sit.”

He leaned forward and stared at the carpet.

Was he going to tell her?

Freya paced around the room. The smells of stale sweat and sex clung to everything. She’d wondered what else happened here. Now she knew, more or less.

She poked her head into the bathroom, which was just as large, luxuriously-appointed and kitted-out for sexual pleasure. Was that what Yuri did here? Sold sex?

“It sounds like Yuri’s assistant, the guy who was tied to the chair, got the idea he could be the boss.”

Freya turned to face Jaxon again. She’d assumed as much from what had been said, it was just nice to have it confirmed by someone else.

“Are you safe?” She padded back across the room toward him.

“Me? Yeah.” He frowned. “I’m mostly concerned about you and finding your sister.”

“Oh!” She grabbed Jaxon’s hand. “I almost forgot. Yuri showed me a video of Michelle sleeping this morning. The balcony looked out on the ocean. Like, the coast. I could see rocks and water, a bit of a street. Not much, but maybe that’ll help?”

“It’s more than we had. Hold on, let me text that to my friend.” Jaxon pulled one phone then another out of his bag. “This one is going to be yours when we can get you upstairs with it.”

“Oh, good.”

Freya didn’t mean to hover, but being near Jaxon eased her fears. He was the one person in her corner helping her. He finished his message and slid the phone back into his bag. His face twisted up and he shook his hand.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Did you hurt yourself on Donny’s hard head?”

Jaxon paused.

“Too soon?” she winced.

“No.” He chuckled and stood. “I just thought...”

She took his hand in his, stroking her fingers over his knuckles. They did seem a little swollen.

“What’s going on? Please, tell me something? What is this place? What are the chances we’ll find Michelle? How did you find me?”

Jaxon squeezed her hand in his and glanced at the room behind them.

“This is the Swan Palace, a kind of white-collar strip club and brothel, from the looks of it.”

“There are other women like me? Locked up here?” Her throat constricted.

“No, not like you. They clock in and out. They don’t live here. They aren’t prisoners.”

Freya blew out a breath and nodded. Sex work was one of the oldest on the planet. For centuries, people had earned their wages using their bodies, from harvesting crops to bringing pleasure. At least for these other women, it was done by something resembling choice.

Jaxon tugged on her hand, leading her to the chaise.

“I need to ask you questions about where Michelle has been and who she would have been with, last you knew.” He sat between her and the door, her hand still in his.

She wanted to just sit here, holding his hand like the rest of the world didn’t matter, but that was escapism. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. Things wouldn’t get easy just because she wanted them to.

“Honestly?” Freya sighed. “I’m not sure. Michelle and I haven’t been the same since Mom died. She’s...changed. And not for the better. I mean she’s always been troubled, but...it’s worse now.”

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

“You know?”

“The way you talked about her, in the past tense. I guessed. And then a friend of mine did some digging. He mentioned it.” The corners of Jaxon’s lips twitched down.

“So, you know who my dad is, too?” She was willing to put money on what her father was, or wasn’t doing, about her disappearance.

“Yes,” Jaxon said slowly.

“Go ahead. Ask.” Freya smiled to ward away the sadness. “Why would a Senator ignore his kidnapped daughter?”

“Are you sure he’s not involved?”

“No, but I know he’d never go looking for Michelle or I, much less pay ransom for us.”

“I...was wondering...”

“Dad never wanted kids. He resented Michelle and me.” Now more than ever, since Mom’s death and the revelation she’d created a trust for Michelle and Freya. She’d always known that her father would never leave anything to Michelle or her, and clearly so had Mom. To think, all those years squirreling away money.

Jaxon opened and closed his mouth.

“It’s okay. It’s not like he was ever a real dad to us. Michelle and I grew to accept it.” The idea of her father’s indifference didn’t hurt anymore. The reality that he’d not so much as lift a finger to look for her was what hurt. She shouldn’t be surprised, though. It wasn’t like he was behaving out of character. This was the norm for him.

Was it any wonder she didn’t believe in love?

“I know what that’s like.” Jaxon stared at the sofa. “It was my Mom, though. She resented me, Dad, everyone around her.”

“That...that sucks.” Freya squeezed his hand.

“All I’m saying is, I get it.” He lifted his eyes to hers.

“I wish things had been different. For both of us.” She didn’t know his story, but she wanted to. She’d wanted to ask Jaxon out the second time she’d met him. Granted, the first time, he was tossing a couple troublemakers out into an alley and not in a place to be introduced. But she hadn’t been ready. Her life was still a wreck.

“Can we talk about Michelle? I’m sorry to—”

“Oh, God. Yes.” Freya blew out a breath and reached back into the cobwebs. “After Mom died, Michelle was staying with her latest boyfriend. A producer who lived in New York. I know they split and she hooked up with a rapper, one of those wanna-be kind of guys, who got a gig working in Florida somewhere.”

Freya bit her lip.

That was where her memory stalled out. Michelle traded men out like some women did their shoes. And it wasn’t like they’d spoken much, not since Freya refused to contribute money to Michelle’s spoiled, rich girl fund. Freya had her own problems to solve without funding her sister’s lifestyle.

“I can’t think of a name or anyone beyond that. Michelle and I haven’t spoken lately.” Freya winced.

“It’s okay.” Jaxon ducked his head, staring her right in the eyes. “If you think of anything, after tonight, just text me, okay?”

Freya nodded.

What had she done to deserve her very own knight?

“Thank you, Jax. I mean it. You are going above and beyond. I just...thank you.”

“Part of me feels responsible.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. My friend was part of the whole thing that got you caught up in it in the first place?”

“I prefer to look at it this way—you were there for me when I needed you.” She smiled, and for the first time since last night, when he’d hugged her, she felt the stress and anxiety wash away. If only for now. This moment.

Jaxon was ready to drop.

His hands hurt, his shoulder was swollen, the muscles in his back were on fire. It was easy to pretend he was gearing up to get back in the ring when it was just him and a punching bag at the gym. Things were different when it was an actual person. It took a toll on the body in a way that was different.

The clock ticked on.

Seeing as a few of the guys had simply disappeared and never come back to man their shifts, Jaxon had gone to work almost immediately following the clean up job in the Nest.

Four hours at the front of house, an hour on the second level, and now here, outside the newly-cleaned Queen’s Nest with Freya just feet away.

Maybe her creep of a would-be-fiancé wasn’t going to show?

He still couldn’t believe this was real. It sounded more like one of Aunt Liv’s twisted fairy tales she liked to tell whenever they all had a few too many to drink. That shit inspired some really weird dreams. But this guy took the cake.

Jaxon peeled his eyes off the security cameras and glanced at the clock.

Almost one in the morning.

Tonight, the club wasn’t as packed. Many of the girls on the second floor had gone home early. The main hall was down to just one bar.

Donny’s betrayal was hitting business hard. Or was it the stretch of time the club had been closed?

The kind of people who had the tastes and money to frequent the Swan Palace were also the type to have a lot to lose if things went sideways. It stood to reason the customers would be cautious once word got out.

Jaxon propped his chin in his hand and glanced back at the screens. These really were the only cameras in the building.

On one hand, Yuri provided privacy and protection. He serviced a slice of the population who had money, and Yuri wasn’t the kind of guy who’d make a fuss over losing a girl. He’d just find someone else to fill her spot and keep going.

His mouth dried up and he straightened.

Damn it.

He was here.

Jaxon buttoned the top button on his jacket and lifted his gaze to the stairs.

Last night he’d ducked behind the monitors to avoid eye contact. Tonight, he wanted to see the man for himself.

Freya had called him Charles, but she didn’t know his last name, or anything about him.

If Freya’s twin weren’t on the line, Jaxon would gladly figure out just what kind of a man this guy was.

Charles topped the stairs.

He was an average sort. Brown hair. A little on the pale side. Narrow build. Something of a lightweight category if he had to guess, maybe featherweight. What did it was the eyes.

Jaxon had seen plenty of guys in the lighter weight categories who’d take down someone heavier than they were. It was in the eyes. A tenacity. A death wish.

Charles walked straight to the Queen’s Nest door.

Jaxon waited a moment.

Charles glanced his way, something resembling a scowl on his face.

“Sir.” Jaxon nodded and tapped the button even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Whoever this Charles guy was, he was a killer.

And Jaxon had just put him in a locked room with Freya.