Page 40 of My Fixation

“What difference does that make?” Jaxon asks, his eyes still fixed on his hands.

I reach over and take them, rubbing my thumbs slowly over his knuckles until the tension eases just enough for me to slip my fingers between his. The look on his face is defeated and resigned. It makes something inside me snap tight.

Usually, when I get like this, I find an outlet. A fight. A job for Mom. Something to burn it out. But that’s not happening. I’m not leaving Jaxon.

“It matters,” Colton says, his tone steady but firm, “because if this wasn’t sanctioned by Manny, and your debt’s already been paid, then you’re done.” He holds Jaxon’s gaze now. “You walk away from it. And for all their bullshit, these guys care about one thing. Reputation. Their word means something to them.”

Jaxon’s head snaps up, his brows drawing together hard. “You think he’s been using me?” His grip on my hand tightens. “Making me fight for his own gain?”

Colton nods, expression serious. “Yeah.”

“We need to find Henry,” Ronan says. “Manny is still in Italy with his grandmother. It’s one of the reasons that Colton has this theory.”

I’ll find Henry. Soon. Jaxon deserves peace, and finding him is where that starts.

Dinner winds down with Mom and Colton doing most of the talking. Mom keeps Jaxon engaged, asking about his life, while Colton fills the space with stories about Ollie.

Every time Ollie comes up, Jaxon softens. Something in him eases, like he forgets himself for a second. And when the kid grabs his attention, that softness comes back—natural, unguarded. I want that. I want him to look at me like that. A quiet, unexpected tension settles low in my chest.

Fuck.

I’m jealous of a baby.

Chapter 24

Jaxon

I could be free of all of this if Henry’s acting on his own. The thought keeps circling through my head. Free. Eight months of hell finally over. I could go back to my normal life.

But the second the thought settles, something in my gut twists hard. What normal life? A lonely apartment. Empty days. Coming home every night knowing how little I actually matter to anyone.

The thought feels hollow now in a way it never did before. I chance a glance toward Conor as he walks his mom to the door. Before leaving, she pulled me into a long, gentle hug that nearly stole the breath from my lungs.

If all of this with Henry and the fights really is over, will Conor still care about what happens to me? He said he knew enough to know me. But he doesn’t. Not really. He doesn’t know what my life actually looks like once all of this gets stripped away. The sleepless nights. The nightmares that drag me under almost every time I close my eyes. The way I spent nearly a year trying to drown all of it in pills and alcohol because I didn’t know how else to survive myself. What would he think if he knew that? Would he still look at me the same way?

I scoff quietly at myself. Conor may have saved me—more than once—and yeah, he kissed me, but that doesn’t automatically mean he wants something more. A relationship. Hell, I don’t even know if I could handle one right now. The thought alone feels overwhelming. So there’s no point getting lost in fantasies about the future. That’s just borrowing tomorrow’s problems before they even get here. Right now, I need to focus on healing enough to get back to my life. As shitty as it is.

“Do you need anything before bed?”

I hadn’t even noticed Conor coming back into the living room. I look up at him, and the familiar awareness settles over me again. I’m not used to feeling small around anyone. Truthfully, he’s not that much bigger than me. But around Conor, I feel… delicate in a way I never have before. Not because of his size. Because of the way he handles me like something worth being careful with.

The thoughts from earlier try to creep back in, but I shove them away before they can settle.

“No, I’m good. Just tired.”

I start to stand, but Conor is already there, helping me to my feet with that same impossible gentleness that keeps catching me off guard. It shouldn’t hurt this much to be cared for.

“Then let’s get you to bed,” he says quietly. “You still need your meds.”

His arm settles around my waist, warm and steady. I let him guide me down the hall, but when we reach the same bedroom from before, I stop short.

“This is your room, right?” I ask, glancing up at him. “I can stay in one of the guest rooms.” The words leave my mouth even as something inside me tightens at the idea. Because the truth is… I want to sleep in his bed again. I just don’t want to be an inconvenience.

“No, I want you in here.” His hand settles against the small of my back, warm and steady as he gently urges me forward. “With me.”

The last two words catch somewhere deep in my chest, my breathing hitching before I can stop it. But my mind immediately twists it into something practical. Something safe. The nightmare. That has to be what this is about.

“If this is because of the nightmare…” I draw in a slow breath, trying to steady myself, “that’s normal for me. You don’t need to worry about it.” I force myself to hold his gaze. “I can handle being by myself.”