She was terrified.

He rose to his feet so fast his stool toppled to the floor. “Don’t touch her.”

The deputy sneered, fingers digging into Nessie’s forearm as he jerked her sideways. “I said back up.”

Nessie made a small, broken sound—not quite a cry, more like the whimper of someone who knew better than to scream. Her eyes went glassy, distant, like she was suddenly somewhere else entirely.

Something primal and violent erupted in Jax’s chest.

His fist connected with the deputy’s jaw before he’d even made the conscious decision to swing. Bone met bone with a sickening crack. The deputy staggered backward, blood spraying from his split lip, eyes wide with shock.

“Murdock!” Goodwin bellowed.

The deputy—Murdock—touched his fingers to his mouth, staring at the blood in disbelief. Then his face twisted with rage. He lunged for his weapon.

“Stop!” The younger deputy—Frye—stepped between them, hands raised. “Everyone just calm down!”

But Goodwin was already moving, slamming Jax face-first against the counter. Cold metal bit into his wrists as handcuffs clicked shut. He closed his eyes, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

He’d played right into their hands. Five years of discipline, undone in a single moment of weakness.

“Jaxon Thorne, you’re under arrest for assaulting an officer,” Goodwin growled in his ear, voice thick with satisfaction. “You just bought yourself a one-way ticket back to prison.”

“No! He was defending me,” Nessie protested. “Your deputy grabbed me. I was?—”

Goodwin cut her off, yanking Jax upright. “You were interfering with a police investigation, and your boyfriend here just made it a whole lot worse.”

The word “boyfriend” hung in the air like a toxic cloud nobody wanted to touch.

Heat crept up Jax’s neck, but not from embarrassment—from the way Nessie flinched at the implication, the way her face went chalk-white.

“He’s not my—” she started, but stopped and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Course not,” Murdock said, dabbing at his split lip with a napkin. “What would a nice girl like you want with a piece of shit like him?”

“You set him up,” one of the patrons called. The skinny guy who was always pecking away at a laptop whenever Jax visited. Now he stood next to his table, phone raised. “I have it all on camera.”

“You’re the piece of shit, Goodwin,” one of the old timers spat, and a ripple of agreements went around the room.

“Never were good for anything,” Margery added, shaking her bony finger at him. “You just wait until the next election.”

Jax stared at them all in disbelief. Were they… defending him? They didn’t know him. They had no reason to stick their necks out for him.

And yet the murmurs grew into a dull roar of protest.

Sheriff Goodwin’s grip tightened painfully on Jax’s shoulder, but his face remained a mask of professional calm. “Anyone interfering with police business will be joining Mr. Thorne here at the station.”

“You can’t arrest everyone,” the laptop guy said, still recording. “And I’m sending this to my cousin at the Missoula Tribune right now.”

“Do what you want, Levi,” Goodwin said, but he didn’t sound quite as sure of himself now. “I’m just doing the job you all voted for me to do, keeping you safe.” He jerked Jax toward the door. “Deputy Frye, get statements. Murdock, with me.”

As they dragged him out, Jax caught a glimpse of Nessie’s face. Her eyes were wide, haunted.

“It’s okay,” he mouthed, not sure why he was trying to comfort her when he was the one in cuffs.

“Jax?” Oliver’s small voice came from the back room doorway. The boy stood frozen, eyes huge in his pale face as he watched Jax being hauled away.

“It’s alright, kid,” he called back. “Just a misunderstanding.”