Page 71 of Jax & Knox

"We're not," I tell her.

"You just said someone is going to watch my house twenty-four hours a day."

"Watch the cameras," I correct. "Not your house."

"Jax."

"Baby, Justin has already proven he isn't going to stop because you told him to. Until this is over, we're not taking chances."

Her gaze drops, and I hate the way her shoulders curl inward. I can practically see the guilt settling over her, turning something Justin caused into another burden she thinks she has to carry.

I reach for her chin and gently bring her eyes back to mine. "You're not the problem here."

"I know."

"Do you?"

She doesn't answer, which is answer enough.

Knox moves closer behind her, his hand settling against her hip. His voice is quieter when he speaks again, but there's nothing soft about the certainty behind it.

"We're not moving you," he says. "We're not taking the cottage away from you. We're making sure nobody can take it from you."

Her expression changes, and it's small enough that I might have missed it a few days ago. I don't miss much when it comes to her anymore.

The cottage matters.

Of course it fucking does.

It's the first thing she's had since running that belongs to her. The first door she's been able to close without worrying about what waits on the other side. She picked where Owen's things went. She drinks coffee on that old porch swing. She's started making that place hers, and the last thing she needs is another man deciding where she's allowed to live because he thinks he knows what's best for her.

"You get to stay home," I tell her, running my thumb over her cheek. "We're just making home safer."

Her eyes fill, but she blinks quickly and nods. "Okay."

Knox kisses her temple. "Okay."

Two hours later, the cottage looks like the Iron Reapers are preparing for war, which, considering the number of bikes parked outside and the number of armed bikers crawling all over the property, might not be far from the truth.

Riot is on a ladder installing another camera beneath the edge of the roof. Tank is inside setting up the monitoring system while Tiny and Steele replace the screws in the exterior doorframes with longer ones. Cole is working on the windows, and I haven't seen Rook in ten minutes because apparently he's decided the backyard is his personal security project.

Ainsley stands on the porch with Owen on her hip, staring at all of them like she's trying to figure out whether to laugh or start kicking people off her property.

"This is insane."

"It's thorough," Knox corrects.

She looks at him. "There are six grown men working on a two-bedroom cottage."

"Seven," I tell her. "Rook's around back."

Her mouth falls open, and I can't stop myself from grinning.

"Don't encourage him," Knox mutters.

Owen reaches toward the yard, bouncing against Ainsley's hip. "Da-da-da!"

I look over and realize he's reaching for me. That still gets me every damn time. I walk over and take him from Ainsley, and the second he's in my arms, his little fingers wrap around my beard and pull.