“Maybe I should go into the nunnery,” Jane says softly while lying on the Victorian loveseat. She rests her head on Maximoff’s lap and digs a spoon into a pint of chocolate chip ice cream. “That way I won’t make any more dreadfully bad choices.”

“Yeah,” I say, “don’t do that.” While I sit across from them on the coffee table, I balance a mirror on my knees. A piece of jet-black dyed hair falls to my lashes as I fix my hooped lip piercing. Nate’s fist must’ve caught my mouth. My bottom lip is a little bit swollen.

It’s only been three hours since I knocked Nate unconscious.

Jane is still processing tonight’s events. Maximoff runs a hand through her wavy hair, and he shares a cautious look with me like it hasn’t hit her yet.

I know.

“I can do that,” Jane says like she’s preparing to debate me. “I’m an independent, strong-willed woman.”

“You’re not Catholic,” I say, finished loosening my piercing. I stretch forward and steal her spoon. Scooping into the ice cream, I take a bite.

Jane narrows a look at me, searching for a rebuttal. She can’t find one for once. I’m going to be painfully honest here: I don’t like it.

I hold out the spoon for her to take it back.

She doesn’t.

Jane.

Maximoff gives her a tough look. “Just let Farrow and me vet the next fucking guy. We’ll grill him twice as much as security.”

My mouth almost rises. “I am security, wolf scout.”

He flips me off, but he drops his hand when Jane says, “No.” Her calico cat springs up on her stomach, and she strokes Carpenter. “I’m serious, Moffy. I’m taking a break from all men with any sort of sexual benefits attached.”

His brows pull together in concern. “Jane—”

“He believed that rumor.” She sits up to better meet his eyes. Carpenter springs off the loveseat. “I’d been texting Nate throughout the tour, and he only knew about the locations to our FanCon stops, before publicized, because I told him. I trusted him. I didn’t even consider that he could’ve…”

“No one did,” Maximoff emphasizes.

“It’s not your fault,” I tell Jane.

If anything, this is on security. Me and the entire team. But at the end of the day, we caught the guy. Say we caught Nate months earlier, Jane would still be upset. There’d still be the same breach of trust.

The same ending.

But Thatcher doesn’t see it like that. His anger isn’t even directed at me. Jane Cobalt is his client. His responsibility.

In his mind, he should’ve seen Nate as a threat. Thatcher couldn’t even speak when I asked him about charges against Nate. He’s beating himself up over this shit.

Banks is spending the night at our townhouse. Hopefully his twin brother can help him realize that he couldn’t have done more.

“I should’ve known,” Jane says, setting down the pint on the rug. “I should’ve seen this—”

“No,” Maximoff forces.

“You weren’t the one with his dick in you,” she combats. “I literally let a psychopath into my body.” She tries to stay witty and lighthearted, but the severity of this line sinks in fast.

Her hands fly to her face, and a sob breaks through. Her body heaves forward.

Maximoff holds his best friend against his chest and speaks in French, his tone harsh and somewhat loving. He’s not that soft, but he kisses the top of her head. I hear the words ma moitié.

She rubs her face with the sleeve of her coffee-print pajamas.

I’m not sure what to say in this situation. “I’m sorry, Jane,” I breathe.

She sniffs and wipes more tears, hiccupping. Five cats start to swarm the ice cream, a good distraction. “I’ll be okay,” she murmurs and leans down. “Come here, my loves.”

Jane cradles Toodles and picks up the pint before standing. With a tearful gaze, she says, “I’ll get you all little bowls. Follow me.”

We watch Jane leave for the kitchen, five cats in tow, and then our eyes meet again.

I tell him, “That could’ve been worse.”

“That was bad,” he says with a nod. “A real fucking apocalypse.” Jane being upset in any capacity always gets to him.

“Looks like we survived the ‘apocalypse’ then,” I say, using air-quotes. “Since we’re all breathing.”

Maximoff cracks a knuckle, growing more serious, and he has trouble leaning back. His shoulders squared and posture upright. “What criminal charges do you think will stick?”

For Nate, he means.

I edge forward on the coffee table, my knees touching his knees. “Anything that happened in the attic, it’s my word against his.”

“So none of that,” he realizes, staring off for a beat.

“Yeah.” I sweep his sharpened cheekbones. I wonder if he wanted to charge Nate for raising a knife at my face. I study his features, and I’m certain that he did. Damn. It’s cute that he cares about me, but I care more about him. “There’s a stalking and harassment law in Pennsylvania,” I tell Maximoff. “It’s a first degree misdemeanor.”

Maximoff contemplates this. “What is that, a year jail time maximum?”

“Or even less. He could just be fined a grand.” I place the mirror aside. “But either way, he’ll be slapped with a restraining order.”

Security can now legally detain this fucker if he comes within distance of Maximoff. Even if Nate isn’t behind bars for long or at all, we still obtained the ability to protect Maximoff in a greater way.

This is a victory, any way I turn it.

Maximoff must sense this because his shoulders lower. I put a hand on his knee, and he leans forward a fraction. He licks his lips, something biting at him, and he just lets it out, “What does this mean about your father?”

I was wrong about him, but I can’t budge off one point. “He’s still the same pretentious asshole that quit on you,” I tell him. “Nothing’s changed.”

Maximoff thinks for a second and then shakes his head. “He’s not the one who harassed me. So something’s changed.”

His words catapult me back to a memory, the one with his dad at a café. Where he watched his children and spoke honestly.

“Parenting never gets easier. Not when you love them, and you need to be hard on them, but you’re afraid to break them. And you think you’re doing everything right as a parent because you know what’s wrong, but still, it’s inevitable. We’ll fail. We always do.”

Back then, Lo had no reason to share that with me. He hadn’t made any mistakes with his children yet, as far as I was aware. But my father had made one with me.

And Lo knew I was fighting with him. I wonder if all that time he was speaking to me about my father. Reminding me that he loves me. He’s never been abusive or malicious. He’s just doing what he feels is right, even if it’s wrong.

I shouldn’t villainize him or think he’s willing to fuck me over. Hell, I believed he was capable of murdering Maximoff.

I shake my head repeatedly, and I almost laugh.

“What?” Maximoff asks.

“Words of wisdom from an unwise man,” I tell him. “Your dad.”

Maximoff smiles. “He’s pretty wise for all the hell he’s been through.”

I smile just seeing his. “You’re not too bad yourself, Harvard Dropout.”

He gives me a look. “Christ, call the fucking Coast Guard. Farrow Keene just complimented my intelligence.”

I suck in a breath. “Well now I’m questioning everything because there’s no reason to call the Coast Guard, wolf scout. We’re on land.”

Maximoff feigns confusion. “You sure I haven’t drowned you yet?”

I laugh, and our eyes dance over each other as I whisper, “Trust me, I’m very much alive with you.”