Page 101 of Jax & Knox

Jax walks into the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower, his expression tight.

"You okay?" he asks.

"No," I say honestly. "But I will be."

He crosses the room and pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly.

"We're not going to let him get to you," he says, his voice fierce. "You know that, right?"

"I know," I whisper.

But the fear is still there, coiled tight in my chest.

Later that afternoon, Jax insists I come to Perdition with him.

"I don't want you alone," he says. "And Knox will feel better knowing you're at the clubhouse where there's more security."

I don't argue.

Owen is strapped into his car seat, happily chewing on a teething ring, and I sit in the passenger seat, staring out the window as we drive.

The clubhouse is buzzing when we arrive.

Brothers are everywhere, some working on bikes, some standing in tight groups talking in low voices. The Old Ladies are gathered near the bar, their expressions tense.

Tessa spots me immediately and walks over.

"Hey," she says, pulling me into a hug. "You okay?"

"I don't know," I admit.

"Come on," she says, looping her arm through mine. "Let's get you inside."

I'm behind the bar, wiping down glasses, when the door opens.

A man in a police uniform walks in.

My entire body goes rigid.

The glass slips from my hand and shatters on the floor.

Justin.

No.

Not Justin.

But the uniform, the badge, the gun on his hip, it's all the same.

My vision tunnels.

My chest tightens.

I can't breathe.

"Ainsley?"

Tessa's voice sounds far away.