Page 103 of Until Joy

“Still, it has to be done,” Jax said.

“Meanwhile, this guy's getting bolder.” Nico pointed out. “Jax, you pulled anything useful from the clinic's exterior cameras?”

“You shouldn't have to ask, Uncle Nico.”

“I know. Sorry. This case is getting to me.”

“Unfortunately, the way July had the cameras set up, it doesn't show faces. She was more concerned about watching the drug cabinets and the doors, not the actual people. I've already corrected that,” Jax explained.

“I like the way you’re handling this, it’s better than using my woman as bait,” Graham growled.

“Your woman?” Seth's voice turned sharp. “She's our sister.”

“And she's the woman I love,” Graham shot back. “Which means I get a say in what risks we take with her life. Anyway, why are we fighting on this? We’re on the same page.”

The conversation continued, voices overlapping as they debated surveillance techniques, background checks, and something called “digital forensics” and how they could flush out my stalker so they could take him down. But all I could think about was Evan mentioning the woman in Dublin.

Ten days. That woman had been held for ten days.

I wrapped my arms around my knees even tighter, making myself as small as possible. There was no two ways about it. I was scared. I was scared for them, too. Especially Graham. He’d take stupid risks if he thought it would keep me safe.

The front door opened and closed several times. Car engines started. Motorcycle pipes rumbled to life. The sounds of departure echoed through the house until finally, silence settled like a blanket.

Footsteps approached the bedroom door. I scrambled back into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin and closing my eyes. I didn't want Graham to know I'd been listening. Didn't want him to see the fear that had to be written all over my face.

The door opened with a soft click. Graham's weight settled on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking under him.

“I know you're awake.”

I opened one eye. “How could you tell?”

“Your breathing.” His fingers found my hair, stroking the tangled mess. “You were listening.”

It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway.

“I'm scared for you,” I whispered. “All of you. But mostly you.”

Graham stretched out beside me, pulling me into his arms. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You don't know that.” I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. “This is my mess, Graham. My stalker. Maybe I should be the one taking the risks. Maybe Evan’s right and we should use me as bait.”

“Like hell.” His arms tightened around me. “You're not expendable. You're everything.”

The emotion in his voice made my chest ache. I pulled back to look at him in the dim light filtering through the blinds. His jaw was tight, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.

“You're exhausted.”

“I'm fine.”

“You're not.” I traced the line of tension between his eyebrows. “When was the last time you really slept?”

He caught my hand, pressing it flat against his chest. “Hard to sleep when someone's threatening the woman I love.”

The simple words shattered something inside me. All the fear, all the worry, all the desperate need to show him how much he meant to me, bubbled to the surface.

I kissed him.

It started soft, tentative, but when he responded, when his hand fisted in my hair and he pulled me closer, something ignited between us. This wasn't about desire or need. This was about claiming each other, about proving we were alive and together and nothing could tear us apart.