Page 120 of Jax & Knox

I think about that first moment on the highway, seeing her terrified and fierce. I think about how one person can change everything. How one woman can rewire your entire world. And I know, without a doubt, that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

EPILOGUE: TWO YEARS LATER

AINSLEY

I wake to the sound of laughter.

Not the sharp, nervous kind I used to know, the kind that came before the blow, before the apology, before the cycle started all over again.

No.

This is real laughter. Deep and warm and full of joy.

I blink against the bright light streaming through the curtains and stretch slowly, my body still heavy with sleep. The bed beside me is empty, but I can hear them downstairs, Jax's voice, Knox's low rumble, and Owen's high-pitched giggles echoing through the house.

For a moment, I just lie there, letting the sound wash over me.

Two years ago, I never would have believed this was possible. I was running for my life with a crying baby in the backseat of a beater car, convinced I'd never be safe again. I thought love was something that hurt. Something that took. Something that left bruises. Now I know better.

I sit up slowly, my hand instinctively moving to my belly. Six months pregnant. Another baby on the way, a little girl this time. Knox cried when we found out. Actually cried. Jax kissed my stomach for ten minutes straight, whispering promises to our daughter about how loved she'd be, how protected, how cherished.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, pulling on one of Knox's oversized hoodies before padding barefoot down the hallway.

The house smells like coffee and pancakes.

When I reach the kitchen, I stop in the doorway, my heart swelling at the sight in front of me.

Owen is sitting on the counter in his dinosaur pajamas, his dark curls sticking up in every direction. He's holding a spatula like a sword, waving it around while Jax pretends to be mortally wounded.

"You got me!" Jax groans dramatically, clutching his chest and stumbling backward.

Owen squeals with delight. "Again, Daddy! Again!"

Knox is at the stove, flipping pancakes with the kind of precision only he could manage. He's shirtless, wearing low-slung sweatpants, his tattoos on full display. There's a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, and he's shaking his head at Jax's theatrics.

"You're gonna give him ideas," Knox mutters.

"Good," Jax says, scooping Owen up and spinning him around. "He should have ideas. Big, wild, ridiculous ideas."

Owen giggles so hard he hiccups, and my chest tightens.

This is everything I’ve always wanted.

Knox glances over his shoulder and sees me standing there. His expression softens immediately. "Morning, baby," he says, his voice low and warm.

Jax turns, still holding Owen, and grins. "Look who finally decided to join us."

"Mama!" Owen shouts, reaching for me.

I walk over and take him from Jax, pressing a kiss to his messy curls. "Good morning, sweet boy."

"We making pancakes!" he announces proudly.

"I can see that," I say, smiling.

Knox steps closer and cups my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "You sleep okay?"

"Better than okay," I say honestly.