Page 60 of Finding His Redemption

Jax’s jaw tightened, and she could see the internal struggle playing across his features. “I don’t like this.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nessie assured him, though the crawling sensation hadn’t fully subsided. “The doors are locked. I have my gun if I need it.”

Ghost nodded once, seemingly satisfied with her response. “I’ll bring equipment tomorrow. Set up cameras. Motion sensors.”

“And I’ll be back,” Jax said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “First thing.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“I do.” His eyes locked with hers, intense and unyielding. “I do have to.”

Something in his gaze made her throat tighten. She nodded, unable to find words.

Ghost was already moving toward the door, silent as his namesake.

Jax lingered, his eyes sweeping over her face as if memorizing it. “Lock up behind us,” he said. “Call if anything—anything—feels off.”

chapter

seventeen

After they left,Nessie triple-checked every lock, then climbed the stairs to her apartment and stood in the center of her kitchen, listening to the silence.

They were okay. Safe.

She poured herself a glass of wine to steady her nerves and carried it to bed, placing her phone on the nightstand to charge within easy reach.

Sleep came fitfully, in fragments punctuated by startling awake at every creak of the old building. Around three in the morning, her phone vibrated softly on the nightstand.

It was Jax.

No words at first, just silence, broken only by his steady breath. Then, low and rough: “I just needed to hear you.”

The quiet between them hummed with everything unsaid. She curled onto her side, phone pressed to her ear, and closed her eyes. “I’m glad you called.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Kept thinking about you up there alone.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

She considered lying, then sighed. “No. Not really.”

“Tell me what I can do to help.”

Something changed in that moment. She didn’t know what, or how, but suddenly the open line between them felt charged, electric with possibility.

“Just...” She hesitated. “Just keep talking to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Everything.” She shifted under the covers, suddenly warm despite the night chill. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

More silence stretched between them, filled only by his measured breathing. Then: “I’m thinking about how your voice sounds different at night. Softer. Like you’re telling me secrets.”

Heat bloomed across her skin. “Is that what we’re doing? Telling secrets?”

“If you want to.”

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