“Are you going to get that?” I asked Jackson as he watched the wall-mounted television, clutching my hand in his as if I would disappear. It was sweet ... and a little suffocating.

“It’s probably just Max. He’ll live.”

“Jax,” I warned at the same time his cell bleeped for umpteenth time. He couldn’t just drop everything because my body couldn’t do the very thing it was built for.

“Sorry.” He let go of my hand to fumble with the screen. “I’ll switch it off.”

“No, you won’t. Go answer it, and while you’re out there, get me something to eat.”

He regarded me for a second, his argument on the tip of his tongue, but when I narrowed my eyes, Jackson leaned over and kissed me. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

I nodded, feeling myself relax just a little bit as he disappeared into the hallway. I’d only been in the hospital for a few hours, and I was already going stir-crazy. Jackson having me on house arrest was looking a damn sight nicer than this.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I cooed to my sheet-covered bump. “Mommy promises to do better.”

When I’d felt the first twinge, I instantly knew something wasn’t right. My heart had stopped as my mind rushed to every bad place, every possible tragic ending. It was irrational, but the further I got in the pregnancy, the more fearful I’d become. Scared that everything would be ripped out from under me, I didn’t tell Jackson how I felt. I didn’t want him to worry any more than he already was. It would be a long six weeks, assuming I got that far. Dr. Benns could make no promises, and I didn’t want him to. All I could do was take each day as it came, hoping—praying—that my body could carry far enough to give her the best possible start in life.

“Hey.” Jackson slipped back into the room, and I immediately noticed the change in him.

“What’s wrong?” I sat up straight, and he approached, running a brisk hand over his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just some stuff at work.”

“Do you need to go?”

“I—” He dropped onto the chair beside me and took my hand in his. “I could do with going to take care of this. I’m sorry.” His eyes shuttered, irritation rolling off him.

“Jackson, go. This is your work. Your business. I am fine. I’m in the best place. Besides, Cara said she’d stop by after school.” I squeezed his hand, coaxing him back. “Hey, everything is going to be fine.”

But as he rose from the chair and pressed a kiss to my forehead, leaving me lying there in the hospital bed, I couldn’t help but think that everything would not be okay. This was only the beginning of everything turning to shit.

JACKSON

“It was open?” I ran my hand up the doorjamb, looking for any signs of tampering.

Braiden nodded, arms folded over his chest. “I already checked. Nothing. No forced entry. No interference with the locks. I even asked the super. He hasn’t seen anyone come or go.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Like he was paying attention. The guy is fat and lazy and doesn’t give two shits about what goes on here.”

It was the truth. When Braiden had first brought me here, I’d wanted to pack up their shit and move them into our place, but I knew I couldn’t ask that of Ana. Besides, Cara had tried her best to make it homely. Turned out her father’s help only extended so far.

“And nothing was touched? Taken?”

“Not as far as I can tell. Just the message on the mirror.”

“Show me,” I said, motioning for him to lead the way.

I inspected the message and wasn’t surprised that Braiden had missed it the first time around. The cabinet was above the sink to the right of the door and whatever was used to write it was iridescent, barely visible against the glass.

“Any idea who it could be?”

Braiden huffed, agitation radiating from him. “Let’s just say the list is long and then some.”

“But the move here was need to know, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Frankie and Annie knew. Maybe some of his top-level guys. But all information is available at a price, right?”

He was right. Everyone had their price. But it made no sense that Frankie would sell out his own daughter, not when he’d gone to the trouble of getting them as far away from Seattle as possible. I met Braiden’s steely gaze with my own. “So are you making the call, or am I?”

BRAIDEN

Jackson looked at me as if I held the answer to the fucking universe. I had no plan—besides finding out who the hell was in my apartment, beating the shit out of them, and then sending them running back to whatever hole they’d crawled out of.

“I’ll handle it,” I snapped.

His mouth turned down at the corners, and I could see the disagreement in his eyes. “Not the right call.”

“Well, it’s my call, and I don’t want this anywhere near Frankie O’Connor.”

He could take Cara away from me, make her see what he knew all along—that I was the wrong guy for her. That she could do much better than some fuck-up like me!

“And Cara?”

“Doesn’t catch so much as a sniff of this. Got it?”

“Brai—”

I stormed out of the hallway and into the kitchen, my blood boiling again. If Frankie got wind of this ... I could only imagine his smug grin when he boasted that he’d known I’d screw things up. That my past wouldn’t stay buried.

Fuck. My fist collided with the wall, pain splintering through my wrist and into my arm. I grimaced, biting back the agony. But at least I still knew I had it—the rage that had once burned in me. I’d need it for the shit storm headed our way.

“I don’t like this.” Jackson’s voice was a damn sight calmer than the vortex churning up my insides.

“I said I’d handle it.”

“How? You have no idea who’s behind this. We should—”

My head snapped over to his, and I barked, “I said I’ll handle it. This is my fight, not yours.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed, and I saw a flash of something—pity, sadness ... regret—but he could keep his attempt at playing friend. I could handle this myself.

“That’s the thing, though. It is my fight. You’re here, Braiden, in my city. My life. If this is real—if there’s even a slight chance that this could blow up and hurt the people I care about and bring down the life I’ve built for myself—then that makes it my shit. So don’t stand there giving me the big me, myself, and I bullshit.”

My head dropped, and I gripped the back of my neck with a heavy sigh. Jackson was right. I’d come here and brought this to his doorstep. So as long as I stuck around, everyone was in harm’s way. Jackson. Ana ... Cara.

“Forty-eight hours,” Jackson said, and I swallowed hard, still unable to look him in the eyes. Because when all things were said and done, I was still the guy ruining his life. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours to figure something out, and then I’m making the call. Cara should come stay at the house with me after you tell her the truth.”

My pulse spiked, and I lifted my head, my wide eyes landing on Jackson’s. “No.”

“Yes. If someone knows you’re here, then chances are they know she’s here too. Are you really prepared to risk her because of your stubborn-ass pride?”

“Okay.” The word almost choked me. I didn’t want her at Jackson’s; I wanted her here with me where I could keep my eye on her—protect her. But he was right. Forty-eight hours was nothing, not when you had no leads and no one to help.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Donohue. I know you; I know how you work and what you’re thinking. You’ve come too far to throw everything away. She loves you; you know she does. If it means swallowing your pride and asking for help, then do it. For her. I’m here. Frankie will be here. Prove to her you have changed. Forty-eight hours. Call me when Cara’s on her way to the house, and I’ll be there. I have to get back to Ana.”

I watched him leave, anger coursing through my veins. It wasn’t directed at Jackson; every word he’d spoken was the truth. But that only made it harder to swallow. He was the good guy. The guy with his head screwed on right and who had the answers to everything. It was like staring into the eyes of the person I could have been if only I’d chosen a better path. I envied him. I always had. He did what was necessary, but only ever for those around him. Not out of selfishness or spite. Back in Chastity Falls, he was always cleaning up my shit. My mistakes. Six years later, he was still doing it.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

I was a selfish bastard. I’d let Cara follow me out here, for what? A life on the run? I knew better than most that you couldn’t outrun your demons. They always had a way of catching up with you. It was just a matter of time.

And my time was up.