Page 122 of Undisputed Chaos
“Good girl," The words sent a delicate shiver through her that I felt in every point where our bodies connected.
Ever since that clusterfuck at Jax’s fight, we'd implemented non-negotiable security protocols. The memory still made my blood run cold.
If Mara hadn't been there… I gritted my teeth. Nothing like that would ever happen to my angel. I'd burn the world to dust first.
Mara now had two other women flanking her, personal protection for the girls. They were all ex-fighters, strong, tactile women who understood what the girls meant to us.
"Isla!" Sierra called, waving excitedly as she climbed out of Connor's Audi. She looked tiny next to his massive frame, in light jeans and a cardigan.
Connor's hand remained at the small of her back, his dark eyes scanning the surroundings with predatory focus.
No Toffee this time. We’d only be gone for the day, so my fluffy, lucious little prince-ling wouldn’t be joining us. I nearly sniffled at the reminder.
Isla waved back at Sierra, clearly eager to join her new friend. I kept my arm around her as we approached the others, unwilling to break contact even for a moment.
I already didn’t have my prince—I wasn’t letting Isla go at all.
The girls had become fast friends after the carnival, already making plans for shopping trips and visits. It was fucking adorable.
“Fucked ride," Jax commented, nodding at my neon green Lamborghini as he helped Estelle from the Bentley.
As usual, he was dressed like he'd stepped off a runway—designer jeans, silk button-down, gold glinting at his wrists and throat.
Estelle, elegant in a simple dress, carried a bag that undoubtedly contained some type of non-technology entertainment for the flight.
"Speaking of rides," I said, gesturing toward the jet, "shall we?"
Mara appeared from inside the hangar, her athletic frame clad in the sleek black uniform she'd adopted since becoming head of our private security detail.
She'd quit the WBC and worked exclusively for us, recruiting a team of ex-military women who now shadowed the girls whenever we couldn't be with them.
"Perimeter's clear," she reported to Jax, her expression professional but her eyes warming slightly when they landed on Estelle.
She and the girls had somehow formed a bond.
"Jet's been swept twice. Kim and Trina are already on board."
Jax nodded, his hand sliding to the small of Estelle's back in a gesture that mirrored Connor's with Sierra. "Good. Let's move."
I guided Isla toward the waiting aircraft, hyperaware of everything around us—the distant rumble of commercial planes from the main airport, the soft gravel crunching beneath our feet, the way her body fit perfectly against mine as we walked.
Since the incident, my protective instincts had kicked into overdrive.
I'd always been obsessive, but now there was an edge of desperation to it, a knowledge that I couldn't lose her.
The stairs to the jet were lowered, and at the top stood two women in matching black tactical outfits, Kim and Trina, who now worked Mara's detail.
They nodded respectfully as we approached, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
Isla hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the gleaming aircraft with wide eyes. "It's so... big," she murmured.
I grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. "That's what she said.”
She rolled her eyes, shoving my shoulder playfully. "You're impossible."
"Impossibly charming," I corrected, guiding her up the stairs ahead of me, shamelessly enjoying the view of her ass in that sundress.
"Impossibly handsome. Impossibly soon-to-be champion."
