Page 81 of Switch

I nod. “I won’t.”

We step out of the SUV, and I help her unload our bags from the back, carrying them inside while she sorts through what belongs to who. The house is warm, the familiar scent of vanilla and something citrusy making me pause for a moment.

This is safety. A place where I could stay, where I wouldn’t have to think about Jax or what comes next.

But Ican’thide.

After bringing the last of the bags inside, I give Brooke a quick hug. “Thanks for the trip. I needed it.”

She squeezes me a little tighter than usual. “I know.”

I pull away, heading back out into the cold, and climb into my car.

The drive back to my townhouse is quiet. No music, no distractions—just the rhythm of my own thoughts.

By the time I pull into my driveway, the sun is already sinking low, casting the sky in shades of deep purple and blue. I step inside, the silence wrapping around me, and exhale slowly. There’s a staleness about the place. I’ve only been here a few times since I moved in with Jax. The place feels empty now, missing a lot of my personal things. Thank god I still have clothes and all of my furniture here. I walk back to my room, put my bag down on my bed, and unpack. My life feels out of control. Like a bomb exploded and I’m trying to pick up the pieces.

Needing to do something, I shower, letting the hot water wash away the weekend. I toss laundry in the wash and make a mental list of everything I need to do this week. I keep myself busy.

But when I finally slip into bed, the quiet feels heavier.

And no matter how much I try to push it down, I can’t stop wondering if Jax is thinking about me too.

I toss my phone onto the nightstand, face down, and stare at the ceiling. The room is dark except for the soft glow from the streetlights outside filtering through the curtains. The house is quiet—too quiet.

I should be exhausted. The weekend was long, the drive home draining, and yet, sleep feels impossible.

Because he still hasn’t called. Not a single text. Not a missed call. Not even a half-assed“You okay?”message. Nothing. And it hurts more than I want it to.

I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket up to my chin, but the ache in my chest doesn’t fade. I try to tell myself that this is what I wanted—to give him space, to see ifhewould be the one to reach out first. But the longer the silence stretches, the more doubt creeps in. What if he’s already let me go? What if I walked out that door, and instead of chasing after me, he just shrugged and moved on?

The thought makes my stomach twist. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the lump in my throat back down. I don’t want to be that girl—the one who sits by her phone, waiting for a man to decide she’s worth it. I don’tneedhim to call. But damn it, Iwanthim to. I want him to prove me wrong. To show me that I matter. That I’m not someone easy to walk away from.

I reach for my phone before I can stop myself, my fingers hovering over the screen. I could text him. Just one message. I could ask if he’s okay. If he’s eventhinkingabout me at all. But then what? If he wanted to talk to me, he would. So I don’t.

Instead, I turn my phone on silent, shove it under my pillow, and tell myself that if Jax wants me,reallywants me, then he’s going to have to be the one to show it.

Because I’m done chasing after him.

TWENTY-SIX

SWITCH

I pushthrough the doors of the security office, my mood sour as fuck. It’s been almost a week since Bella walked out, and I still can’t shake the goddamn weight of it. I tell myself it’s better this way, that she needs space, thatIneed space. But the truth? I hate every second of it.

Inside, the office is busy. Tank and Piston are at the conference table, going over some paperwork, deep in conversation. Blade’s on the phone, pacing near the front desk, while Rev is arguing with Miles, the new prospect, about something probably insignificant.

I ignore them all.

I need coffee, something strong enough to knock some sense into me, but I barely make it three steps toward the break room before Tank calls out.

“Yo, Switch, we need to—”

“Not now,” I snap, not even looking at him.

Silence settles over the room, thick and sudden.

“Damn,” Rev mutters under his breath. “Somebody woke up with a fucking attitude.”

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