Page 108 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“So no one’s looking for us?” I press. “No one suspects?”

“No one who matters,” Jax assures me. “The focus is entirely on Heath and Caldwell, exactly where it should be.”

I nod slowly, trying to take comfort in their certainty. Still, a kernel of worry remains. If Heath survived, she knows who exposed her operation. Won’t she want revenge?

As we turn onto the familiar private road where the house stands, my heart rate quickens. Through the bonds, I feel answering tension from each of them—alertness from Jax, watchfulness from Ren, steady readiness from Stone, and nervous anticipation from Finn.

The house comes into view. From the outside, it looks exactly as I remember it. Untouched. Peaceful.

No police cars. No waiting ambush. Just…home.

Jax pulls into the drive, putting the SUV in park before turning to look at all of us. “Ready?” he asks, though his gaze lingers on me.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Ready.”

We exit the vehicle one by one, Stone keeping a protective hand at the small of my back as we approach the front door. Jax disarms the security system with a code I don’t recognize—new, I’m guessing.

The door swings open to reveal the familiar entryway. Everything looks the same—the hardwood floors gleaming, the pictures on the walls undisturbed, even the bowl on the sidetable where they toss their keys exactly where it’s supposed to be.

And yet, something feels different. An intangible shift in the atmosphere…or maybe my own changed perception after everything that happened in the past week.

Finn hesitates at the threshold, his expression suddenly distant. I recognize the look. It’s one that takes over my features when I’m stuck in some nightmare. Which one Finn is currently stuck in, I’m not sure.

Without thinking, I reach for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “Hey,” I say softly, drawing his attention back to me. “Let’s go in together, okay?”

He blinks, focusing on my face with visible effort. “Hailey?—”

“This is still our home,” I tell him, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. “They don’t get to take that from us, too.”

Something shifts in his expression—surprise, then a flicker of gratitude. He squeezes my hand and nods. “You’re right. Our home.”

Together, we step inside, the others following behind us. The familiar scents of the house envelop me. My gaze sweeps the living room, taking in the comfortable furniture, the large windows letting in afternoon light, the bookshelves lined with books I can’t wait to read.

And there, propped against the couch, something unexpected—Jax’s guitar, dusty but out of its case. I pause, startled by the sight. In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen him play. When did he take it out? That night before we left for the gala? Had he been planning to play for us afterward?

I don’t comment on it. Instead, I move further into the room, trailing my fingers over the back of the couch, reacquainting myself with a space that feels both familiar and foreign.

“I’ll make some coffee,” Stone says, heading toward the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Ren adds, following him.

Jax pauses beside me, his hand brushing mine, the brief contact sending warmth right through me. “Take your time,” he says softly. “Reorient yourself.”

I nod, grateful for his understanding. As he moves away to help with the coffee, I wander the living room with Finn trailing close behind. He’s releasing it, too. The anxiety. We touch objects, fingers trailing over surfaces as we absorb the sense of pack and home that permeates everything.

That’s when a sharp knock at the door makes me jump.

Jax and Ren move with alarming speed, positioning themselves between the door and where Finn and I stand. Stone emerges from the kitchen, his expression darkening as he takes up a protective stance nearby.

“Were we expecting anyone?” he asks, voice low.

Finn shakes his head, moving closer to me, his hand finding mine again.

My heart is pounding in my chest, the sudden surge of fear surprising in its intensity. I thought I was doing better, thought I was processing what happened, but the sound of a simple knock has me shaking, phantom hands grabbing at me, phantom voices calling?—

“It’s okay,” Jax murmurs, catching my gaze, grounding me. “Probably just a delivery.”

Ren beats him to the door, checking the peephole before his posture relaxes slightly. He opens the door just enough to see who’s there, his body still blocking the entrance.

---