His lips met mine and he said, “I love you.”

I closed my eyes as I nodded slightly. He pressed his forehead against mine, holding me the only way he could until the exhaustion finally caught up with me, washing away all the very good and all the very bad.

Over the next two days while I was kept in the hospital for observation, my room became a very happening place. Detective Anders had been in and out more than once; so had Reece. Roxy and Nick had showed, the former sneaking me in doughnuts that I wasn’t allowed to eat yet, but I hadn’t the heart to tell her and the latter had been broodier than ever. I felt responsible for that. He’d offered to take me home and maybe if I’d taken him up on that offer, Mom wouldn’t have attempted to approach me and I wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed going out of my mind with cabin fever.

The shooting had hit the news, and somehow Cam had heard about it or Teresa had kept calling my cell and Jax had finally answered—I didn’t know which or if it was a combo of both, but my friends—God love them—were back in town, having driven up the moment they’d heard I’d been shot. They were staying at a hotel a few blocks from the hospital and they were playing the whole thing cool. Jase had even joked around how I kept summer break interesting for all of them, but I could tell that they were seriously worried, especially when Teresa had said that she wanted me to come home, back to Shepherd as soon as possible. But I also didn’t have the heart to tell her that wouldn’t solve anything.

Turned out I was in the same hospital as Clyde. He was well enough to be up for short periods and that meant he was in my room, cussing up a storm and usually getting taken back to his room before he had another heart attack.

Throughout all of this Jax rarely left my side. He took time off at the bar, and Nick and Roxy really stepped up to help out. He had some kind of hot guy Jedi mind control over the staff, because he stayed in my room throughout the night and I knew that was a big no-no, but I didn’t question it. Those long hours in the middle of the night, when I couldn’t sleep and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, he was there. We talked about important stuff, like what we’d fought over, and then we talked about stupid things like where to go in case of a zombie apocalypse or what our favorite reality shows were. I admitted that I still watched Toddlers & Tiaras, might have a wee crush on Property Brothers, and he was a fan of Kitchen Nightmares and Bar Rescue, and had more than just a wee crush on Robbie Welsh from Shipping Wars. When he’d started talking about his favorite football team, I dozed off, and when I woke up some time later, he’d been asleep in what had to have been the most uncomfortable position known to man.

He’d fallen asleep in his chair, but his head had been resting on arms that were folded on the bed beside me. His cheek had been turned to me, and I had hit an exceptional level of creeper, because I didn’t know how long I’d lain there and watched the way his lashes fluttered in his sleep or just stared at his face.

It was like that for two nights, and on the morning of day three, I was being discharged to go home and take it easy. The nurses had given me permission in the morning to wash my hair while Jax made the trip back to the house to grab some clothes for me. Sponge baths weren’t cutting it, but the angry little scar on top of the faded scars and the twinge of pain if I turned too quickly or breathed too deeply told me that I needed to be careful.

Even now I couldn’t believe I’d been shot.

My friends were still in town and I had no idea how long they planned on staying, but I knew they were going to swing by tomorrow since I’d been ordered to not do crap today, so I guessed they’d turned their second trip into a mini vacation.

As the doctor checked me over, and Jax was back, waiting by the door, the thoughts I’d been avoiding since the first night in the hospital crept into my mind.

Mom.

I closed my eyes as the doctor took my blood pressure.

My own flesh-and-blood mother had left me lying in my blood. That hurt like having a rusty nail driven into your heart. Repeatedly. No matter what excuses she had or how scared she might’ve been, there was no justification for that, and that was such a hard wake-up call to go through, because I didn’t understand until the moment I realized she’d left me that I still fostered a little bit of hope that one day she’d be like she was before the fire, the deaths, and the drugs.

There was no hope now.

I’d done the right thing when I’d spoken to Detective Anders. I told him that I’d seen my mom, and he hadn’t looked too happy to hear that and I wasn’t too thrilled to even be talking about it.

Right now, I couldn’t let myself think about her, because even though getting shot sucked and being forced into debt wasn’t too great, either, I was alive and I had a lot to be thankful for.

I glanced over my shoulder at Jax as the doc slipped the pressure cuff off. He winked, and I grinned.

Almost dying really did put things into perspective.

I was cleared to go and we made a pit stop at Clyde’s room before heading to Jax’s townhome. From what we learned, Clyde would be released by the end of the week, maybe even tomorrow if the tests were positive.

When we got to Jax’s townhome, I made it to the couch and plopped down there, tired from a freaking car ride.

“You okay?” Jax knelt in front of me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Not sleepy.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Your stomach doesn’t hurt?”

I smiled. “Only if I do something stupid.”

His eyes searched mine and then he rose, placing one hand on the arm of the couch. He brushed his lips over mine. “You think you can eat something? They said bland food, right? Like chicken noodle soup?”

“That would be nice.”

He drew back, his eyes still clouded with worry. He grabbed one of those ultracomfy blankets off the back of the couch and draped it around me. “Stay there.”

As he moved away, I clawed my way out of the blanket and grabbed his arm. “Thank you.”

An eyebrow rose. “For what?”

“Everything and anything.”

His lips twitched and then he swooped down, kissing me once more. “There’s nothing you need to thank me for, honey. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

Confused, I frowned. “How so?”

Before he answered, he eased that frown right off my lips and created a series of shivers low in my belly. “You’re sitting here on my couch and there’s nothing I could do that will outdo that.”

Wow. My chest got all mushy, which was just another reason to be thankful for him. When he left to go fix the soup, I snuggled deep into the blanket and then we ate soup while watching a marathon of Property Brothers, which made me want to buy an old house and have them renovate it into pure awesomeness. And the fact that they were hot twins might have a little to do it with, too.

It was early in the evening when there was a knock on Jax’s door. I was stretched out on the couch, my back to Jax’s front, and had almost dozed off. I craned my neck and saw the frown on his full lips.

“Not expecting anyone?” I asked.

He shook his head as he carefully slid his arm out from under my shoulders. “Stay here, okay?”

Nodding, I gingerly sat up after he virtually climbed over me. He stalked around the couch, heading to the door, where he peered through the peephole. “What the f**k?”

Unease exploded in my gut and I jerked to my feet, pulling tender skin. I placed my hand over the wound. “What is it?”

His head cocked to the side as I heard a muffled voice coming from the other side of the door. I had no idea what was being said, but several moments passed and then Jax wheeled around. My jaw dropped open as he went to a hutch in the dining room, opened it, and pulled out a handgun. The unease spiked to a whole new level.

Even though I knew he had a gun and I’d seen it before, it still came as a shock whenever he whipped it out. “Jax . . .”

“It’s okay,” he said, stopping by where I stood. His free hand wrapped around the back of my neck and he tipped my head back, kissing me quickly. “Just precautionary.”

In my book, there was nothing okay about a gun being a precautionary measure, and my heart was pounding as he went back to the door, throwing the lock. My muscles tensed as he opened the door, holding the gun in plain sight.

“I don’t give a f**k who you are, make one move I don’t like, and you won’t be walking out of this house,” Jax warned in a low voice as he stepped aside.

There was a beat of silence and then a response in a male voice. “I’d like to think I’m smart enough not to cause you to use the gun in your hand.”

“And I’m smart enough to know that you probably got my place f**king surrounded and if I didn’t let you in, you would’ve found your way in.”

What the f**kity f**k was going on?

A deep masculine chuckle resonated. “That may be true, but I’m not here to cause any trouble, Jackson. I’m here to end it.”

Those words were like ice being drilled down my spine.

Jax stood there for a moment and then he nodded curtly.

A second passed and then a man walked into the house. Hell, he glided in. Dressed in a deep gray suit that was obviously tailored to fit his narrow h*ps and broad shoulders, hair shiny black and combed back from a high forehead and cheekbones, he reeked of money and power.

The man stopped just inside, his dark brown eyes settling on me, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that accompanied his acute, sharp stare.

Cursing under his breath, Jax closed the door and faced us. Shoving the gun in the back of his jeans, he sighed. I was rooted to where I stood, breathing shallowly as the man waited until Jax returned to my side and wrapped a careful, protective arm around my waist.

The man drifted forward and stopped a foot from us, extending a hand. “Calla Fritz, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

My gaze dipped from his handsome face to the hand in front of me. I gave him a weak handshake and immediately dropped his hand. “Hi. Um, and you are?”

He smiled then, flashing perfect straight, white teeth. “Some call me Mr. Vakhrov.”

Mr. what the what? I had no idea how to spell that or even repeat what he said.

“But other people know me as Isaiah.”

Thirty-two

My eyes widened until they felt like they were going to pop out of my face. Holy crap. This was Isaiah? And he was standing in front of me, in Jax’s house? And Jax had let him into said house?

Panic dug its icy fingers into my side as my head swung sharply toward Jax. His arm tightened. “It’s fine,” Jax reassured me. “Isaiah never does his own dirty work.”

My gaze bounced back at him.

Isaiah’s smile widened, and that really creeped me the hell out. “There are times I make an exception. Rare, but it does happen.”

Uh, that really didn’t reassure me one bit.

“May I?” Isaiah jerked his chin at the worn recliner, and when Jax nodded, he sat.

I almost laughed, because he looked so out of place sitting in a chair that had definitely seen better times, wearing a suit that probably cost more than every piece of furniture in the living room. But laughing would’ve made me sound crazy, and I was feeling pretty crazy. The man that my mom owed potentially millions to and the man who might have something to do with the new hole in my body was sitting across from me.

Jax guided me down on the couch, keeping his arm around me. He got to the point. “What’s up, Isaiah.”

He tilted his head to the side and the smile was still there, but it never really reached his eyes. The legendary Isaiah was younger than I imagined for a drug and God knows what else overlord. Maybe in his mid-thirties? “First,” he said, unbuttoning his suit jacket, and I could feel Jax tense beside me, but Isaiah folded his hands together, “I would like to apologize for Mo.”