Echo lifted her head at her name, tilting it in that way that made her look like she was actually considering the career change.

“I think she’d make a good dinosaur,” Jax said, scratching behind her ear. “She’s already got the predator instincts.”

As if to prove his point, Echo’s attention suddenly snapped to the window. Her body went rigid, ears pricked forward, and a low growl rumbled in her chest.

Jax’s own instincts kicked in, every muscle in his body tensing. Echo didn’t growl at nothing. He set down his coffee and moved to the window, staying to one side as he peered out at the alley behind the bakery.

A figure in dark clothing was standing by the dumpster, partially hidden in the shadows. Too far away to make out details, but something about the way they stood—motionless, watching—made the hair on the back of Jax’s neck prickle.

“What is it?” Nessie asked, tension tightening her expression.

“Probably nothing.” He kept his voice casual for Oliver’s sake, but his hand moved instinctively to his pocket where he usually kept his knife. Shit. He didn’t have it. It must have fallen on the floor in Nessie’s room. “Just someone taking out trash.”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. The figure hadn’t moved, hadn’t done anything that suggested they were there for any normal reason. They were just... watching.

Echo’s growl deepened, and she padded over to stand beside him at the window. Her hackles were raised, every line of her body screaming danger.

“Echo doesn’t like them,” Oliver observed, looking up from his painting. “She’s really good at knowing when people are bad.”

The casual way the kid said it made something cold settle in Jax’s stomach. How many times had Oliver had to rely on reading people’s intentions? How young had he been when he’d learned that skill?

The figure moved then, stepping back into the deeper shadows between buildings. For a split second, Jax thought he caught a glimpse of pale skin, maybe the flash of light hair, but then they were gone.

“Jax?” She’d moved closer, close enough that he could smell her shampoo and feel the tension radiating from her body.

“It’s fine,” he said, but he didn’t move away from the window. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now.”

Echo remained alert for another moment, then gradually relaxed, though she stayed close to the window. Smart girl. Always watching.

The coffee had gone cold in his hands, but Jax forced himself to take a sip anyway.

It was probably just someone cutting through the alley. Maybe one of the local kids looking for a place to smoke weed where their parents wouldn’t catch them. Nothing sinister.

But his gut told him otherwise.

And in his experience, his gut was usually right.

He set the coffee down and went to the bedroom to retrieve his shirt. “I’m going to walk Echo.”

Oliver jumped to his feet. “Can I go?”

Jax met Nessie’s gaze and gave a little shake of his head.

Thankfully, she understood and ushered her son toward the bathroom. “Let’s go get dressed. That way, we can get to the ranch faster.” She glanced worriedly back at him just before disappearing down the hall.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “Just taking a walk. Be back soon.”

Jax’s throat burned as he sucked in a lungful of smoke-thick air. The flames were spreading fast—too fast—already climbing the walls toward the ceiling. The acrid smell of burning wood and something chemical, maybe accelerant, made his eyes water.

Someone had set this fire. The figure in the alley. Had to be.

He spun toward the front of the bakery, looking for another way out, but smoke was already filling the dining area. The front door seemed miles away through the haze, and he could hear the hungry crackle of flames behind him growing louder.

His training kicked in. Assess. Prioritize. Act.

Get to Nessie and Oliver. Get them out. Everything else was secondary.

He took the stairs three at a time, his lungs screaming in protest. The apartment door was open, and he could hear Echo barking frantically from inside.