As the light of day loses its fight against the encroaching darkness of the evening, I allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief. JJ and Charlie have kept me on my feet all day, sucking every ounce of energy I possessed out of me, on top of killing any opportunity I’ve had to sneak away to make an emergency phone call. Xander’s ignored ever me since I followed him down to the lakes edge. He’s been attentive to the boys and a gracious host who’s made sure that I had everything I needed to get though the day. Only problem? The Titanic could have been sunk by the icicles that have dripped from his tongue anytime he was forced to speak to me.

I don’t know why he’s got a burr up his butt, and I don’t have the time to find out right now. Not that it would make a difference if I did. I know this man, inside and out, and he’s a pro at holding his tongue about whatever is pissing him off until he’s right and ready to talk about it.

When he’s ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.

Right after I’ve snuck away to speak to Harry.

“Ssshh, little man, time to sleep,” I croon to Charlie as I rock him. His eyelids flutter close, only to open seconds later. While JJ is my super-sleeper, my youngest likes to play games. He is becoming adept at luring me into a false sense of security and then crying the second I put him down.

It takes longer than usual to get him into a deep enough sleep that I feel safe to put him down. I wait around to see if he’s tricking me, feeling like I’m on pins and needles the entire time. Xander left the shack half an hour ago to meet with “the neighbours” and I really want to speak to Harry before he gets back.

My self-appointed protector has no idea have far he’s stepped into it. “It” being the situation that me and Harry created so I could fake mine and my son’s deaths to escape Jax. I thought that using B to get Xander out of jail was the perfect solution. I was sure that he’d jump at the chance to play judge, jury, and assassin with the people who’d ruined his life. I’d miscalculated badly, not factoring in his overprotective streak or the fact that he’s changed in the past two years.

Charlie hasn’t stirred in ten minutes. I hold my breath and I walk on the tippiest of toes to the shack door. One wrong move and he’ll startle, and the whole process is will start all over again. After, unlatching the handle, the tiniest of creaks fills the night air when I push the door open. I dare to breathe out of one nostril as I sneak outside, declaring victory when I manage to shut the door behind me without either of my sons making a peep.

I’m thankful for the moonlight that helps me pick my way through the trees at the back of the shack. The entire lake is surrounded by an old-growth forest that would be eerie if I hadn’t been here dozens of times before with Xander over the years. Nothing much has changed, and I easily find my way to the little rise where I know I’m guaranteed to get good phone reception. Xander was speaking on his phone down by the lake earlier today, but I don’t want to risk it with my fancy phone. It’s never been out of the city limits unless it was on a plane flying to some expensive vacation spot.

Camping in the woods wasn’t high on Jax’s list of vacation spots.

My husband’s skin would be crawling at the mere thought of spending the night in the shack.

Resting my backside on a conveniently situated fallen tree log, I scroll though my phone contacts until I find the one labelled “Paediatrician 2”. When the boys are sick, they are my sole domain, so I knew I’d be safe to save Harry’s details under this false name.

He answers after two rings, his agitation and worry clear to hear.

“Amber?” 

“Yes, it’s me.” My voice sounds extra loud in the exaggerated quietness of the night. I hunch over and drop my pitch an octave or two. “I need to know what’s happening back home. Have they realised that me and the boys are missing?”

“Amber,” Harry sounds like he’s in an echo chamber. “You’re the least of their worries. Jaxon is missing as is every dose of Centrifuge that’s been manufactured so far. Belinda is beside herself, which wouldn’t be especially worrying, except she’s demanding that I call your Xander and tell him not to hurt Jax. We had a good plan. Only the guilty parties would be hurt. Now, it seems that we all have a target on our head.”

I jump when a twig breaks in the distance. A quick glance around doesn’t reveal anyone, but I fall onto my knees and hide between the log and foliage at the base of the big tree next to it just to be on the safe side.

“Do you think Xander has hidden Jax somewhere or do you think he’s dead,” I ask Harry. I knew that Xander had done something with Jax—to be honest, I didn’t care what, as long as he was far away from me. It’s now apparent that I should have been more concerned. Henry and Elizabeth won’t stop until they know what’s happened to him and that’s just painted a huge bulls eye on my back.

“Either way, he’s exposed us with his interference.”

Dry leaves rustle. Twigs snap. Someone is walking toward my hiding spot. I crouch lower, and ignore Harry while I listen for another sign that I’m not alone.

“Amber, can you hear me?” Harry shouts down the phone. “You need to find a way to get yourself and the boys to my condo. I don’t think Xander is the man you think he is. Belinda says he became very dangerous during his time locked up.”

There’s no way I’m taking Belinda’s word for anything. She’d say that the Pope was secretly a Buddhist Monk if she thought it would make us help her find Jax. The Xander I know had a temper, but he only lost it when it was warranted. If I had to choose who to trust out of the people in my life at the moment, I’d trust Xander first. Harry would come a close second, but I can’t make myself forget that he was once part of Jax’s plans. He only flipped when his father died.

Hands down. Xander is so straight up that his middle name should be dependable.

“I need you to fix this.” The footsteps grow closer. My heart is beating so fast that I’m afraid it’s going to lead the intruder straight to me. I whisper my next sentences as loud as I dare. “Do as Belinda says. Ring Xander.”

The intruder stops moving. The sound of a safety being flicked off fills the air. It’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. Common sense tells me to stay hidden, but my heart tells me to run and find Xander. Instead, I listen to my brain and stay put.

“I’m not coming to you. Ring Xander,” I repeat in an attempt to talk sense into him.

“Amber,” Harry yells into the phone again. I don’t think he can hear me. Hell, I can barely hear myself. “Promise me you’ll listen. Come home. You’re not safe with him.”

“No, Harry,” I snap at him, louder than I should. “You listen. I trust Xander with my life—with my boys lives if I have to. I want you to ring him and find out what his plan is. I honestly believe he’s got something up his sleeve that we need to get on board with.”

The person who’s stalking me clears their throat. They are so close now that they’re basically on top of me. Curiousity gets the better of me. I pop my head up from my hiding spot, hoping to catch enough a glimpse to calm myself, and almost die on the spot.

I’d know that silhouette, anywhere.

“Ring Xander.” I order one last time, quiet as a church mouse, before ending the call.

After slipping my phone into my pocket, I stand and attempt to plaster a smile on my face.

“Xander,” I say with faux airiness. “I thought you went the other way?”

“Nah, changed my mind.” He seems friendlier than he was when he left. I let some of the tension I’m feeling go and assume a more natural stance.

Xander shoves his handgun into the waistband of his jeans and a big, beefy hand reaches for me. For the first time in over two years, I don’t brace myself because I’m not sure if I’m about to receive a backhand or a caress. Like I told Harry, I trust Xander. He is nothing like Jax—who is a Street Angel, and a House Devil—and he proves me right when he reaches forward and pulls a twig out of my hair. After examining it, Xander lets it float to the ground.

“I think we need to talk,” he says.

“Understatement of the year,” I reply, a nervous lilt to my voice. 

He reaches for me again. This time he takes my hand in his and pulls me toward the shack.

“I’ll get a fire going and we can sit and chat.”

His promise conjures visions of all the times that we’ve done just that at this lake. It will be like old times. Well, almost. Because, I doubt tonight will end with us making love by the dying fire like we did back then.

“I wish it was like old times,” I whisper to myself.

“It can be,” Xander murmurs next to me.