by Danah Logan
"Miss Turner," someone barks. I jerk upright, heart thrashing in my chest. Cold sweat covers my face, and my clothes stick to my body. I shield my eyes against the light, but then I recognize Agent O-Hole standing in the door next to Jaxon.
It was a dream. It was just a bad dream.
"What's going on?" I rasp. My throat is dry.
Jaxon's expression is stoic, and my stomach quivers. Oh, God. He's here to tell me that I won't get out. I fight the urge to hide under the thin blanket I slept under.
Oatis glowers at me with his mouth pursed as if I forced him to suck a lemon. I peer back at my so-called attorney, who also doesn't say a word. My unease shifts, and something else rises to the forefront. I refuse to cower, not after the nightmare I woke up from.
I cross my arms, ignoring the still-present tightness in my chest. "If neither of you is going to tell me why you woke me up, I might as well go back to bed. Being pregnant sucks the life out of a per—"
"You're free to go."
Everything stops, including my heartbeat. "Come again?" Am I still sleeping?
"You are being released, Miss Turner," the FBI agent grounds out.
Jaxon steps forward and holds out his hand. "Let's go, King."
Time snaps back into place, and I'm off the cot, reaching for my legal counsel. My pulse is thudding and my fingers tremble as I place my hand in his. Not a gesture I would expect from a defense attorney, but I have a feeling nothing revolving around this man is normal.
The other agent stands in the hallway, frowning at me.
I stumble several times as I'm distracted by what is happening. Jaxon handles my release and then leads me toward a part of this place I haven't been before—not the front.
"Where are we going?" I'm having a hard time keeping up, plus I suddenly really have to pee.
"Back of the building. Lancaster and his friends are camping out in the front." He tugs on my hand, but I dig my heels in. Another thought slams into me like a wrecking ball.
"How do I know you are who you say you are?" My body floods with heat. I have no proof that this guy really works for Lilly. "You said Jaxon isn't your name!" Oh shit, what if he works for one of the guys E supplied with…whatever he dealt with?
He stops and turns to me. "Jaxon is my middle name." He's about to start walking again when I bore my nails into his palm.
"What is your full name?"
Not that I have any guarantee that he's telling me the truth.
He sighs. Peering behind me, he contemplates, but visibly concludes I'm not going to make it easy on him. He's correct. "My name is Tanner. Tanner Jaxon Weiler. But I've been going by Jaxon my entire life."
Weiler? What the—?
The surprise revelation allows him to start pulling me forward again, and as soon as the metal door opens, I'm enveloped in a pair of arms.
"Took you long enough, Jax." Marcus hugs me to his chest, and I fist his shirt, holding on as tight as I can.
"Baxter," I breathe out, and a chuckle rumbles against my ear. The adrenaline that's been pushing me forward drops, and my body begins to shake uncontrollably.
"The car is waiting, Monroe. Let's take you home," he says gently. He supports me the rest of the way, as my legs have stopped functioning. Jaxon takes two steps at a time down to where Marcus's black SUV is parked. I'm being deposited in the back seat. Marcus slides in beside me, with my attorney in the front.
"Where is Wes?" my voice trembles, and I'm fighting to keep it together. I'm out. How did that happen? God, I want Wes.
"He's at home. He doesn't know yet. Lilly is on her way to him. She left a few minutes ago," Marcus explains as he keeps his arm around me, rubbing circles on my shoulder.
Lilly was here?
"Wes's mom dragged him home last night. The dude looked like shit."
"His mother?" I cough out the words. I'm going to be sick.
"Breathe, Monroe. It's over. You're safe."
Safe? I spent almost three days in jail and now am meeting my boyfriend's mother. I lean away from him to scan his face—or to sucker punch him; I haven't decided. What I see, though, is one-hundred-percent sincerity.
"What is going on, Baxter?" Using the same way we always address each other gives me a false sense of normalcy.
"Jaxon will explain everything when we get you home."
Home.
I can't decipher what he's keeping from me or why he won't just spit out why I got released. I doubt a judge randomly decided to let me go on a Sunday.
"You'll want Wes and Kiwi with you," he amends, averting his gaze.
My stomach flips. Why? What could be so bad that I need them both with me? Are the charges not dropped, and I got out on bail? Breathing becomes harder, and I close my eyes, concentrating. The little rational thinking I have left screams at me to keep it together, for Nugget's sake. No one will tell me anything, and I'm bordering between a panic attack and a temper tantrum.
The car comes to a stop. Opening my eyes, I recognize our surroundings. Jaxon parked the SUV in front of Wes's garage, another large SUV directly in front of us. Through the windshield, I see Lilly exiting the passenger side.
Marcus pushes open the door and shifts so he can take my hand and pull me out. My legs tremble, and I clutch his hand harder. He has to drag me after him. My body won't obey any mental cues. I'm home, yet I can't move. My feet hit the sidewalk when the door to the townhouse flies open, and Wes races down the steps—followed by my dog.
Tears instantly well up in my eyes, and all I can make out is a blurred form when I'm swept up in the pair of arms I have so desperately needed since Friday morning. I cling to him as sobs wrack through my body, and Echo whines at our feet.
"Fuck, Princess. What happened? Why are you here? Are you okay?" His words are spoken over an audible lump in his throat.
He pulls back and frantically scans me up and down. "Is the baby okay? Are you hurt?"
I shake my head, and his eyes widen. I realize his thought process, and I let go of him, cupping his cheeks with my hands. "She's okay. I'm not hurt."
He sags in relief. "Jesus, Princess." He leans his forehead against mine. "You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Let's take the welcome scene inside before we get an audience," Marcus exclaims from somewhere behind us.
Wes drapes his arm around my waist. He won't let go of me as much as I cannot lose contact with him. As he leads me toward his house, I find Lilly, Rhys, Denielle, Kiwi, Zeke, Mags, and a couple I haven't met waiting. My stomach plummets to my feet. I've handled everything life has thrown at me in the past, but the mere thought of meeting Wes's parents makes me want to run. A hand lands on my shoulder—Marcus—and Wes leans in to whisper in my ear. "You have nothing to worry about, I promise."
He lets go of my backside and interlaces our fingers. As we draw nearer, everyone smiles. Mags swipes under her eyes, and they start making their way back inside. I suddenly shiver, realizing how chilly it is.
The only people not following the rest are Wes's mom and dad. Both remain on the top step, waiting for us. With every step that brings me closer to them, I start squeezing Wes's hand harder until he grunts. I can't make myself let go, though.
Stopping in front of Mrs. Sheats, I look at everything but her. How can I face this woman? I'm pregnant with her son's baby because I forgot to take my birth control and just got out of jail.
A set of hands suddenly lands on my cheeks, and I involuntarily glance up. The woman's eyes are misty, and she smiles. Smiles. I don't know what to do.
"You are even prettier in person."
Excuse me, what?
She lets go, and I swivel to Wes with what must resemble a question mark.
He grins. "Told you. You have nothing to worry about."
Inside, I get sandwiched between Wes and Kiwi. Both have lost all sense of personal space. If they come any closer, Kiwi will end up in my lap with me on top of Wes. Mags is on Kiwi's other side and has her hand on me as well.
&n
bsp; Denielle, Lilly, and Mrs. Sheats are on the other half of the sectional. Rhys stands next to Mr. Sheats behind the back of the couch. Marcus leans against the wall. He always keeps the entire room in sight—a trait I noticed long ago. I do the same.
Jaxon is the one remaining in the middle of the living room. He scrubs his hands over his mouth and looks at Lilly. "Have you filled them in?"
"No." Her expression is closed off. "I got here a minute before you and figured you should give everyone the report."
Report?
Jaxon shifts his attention to me. "I mentioned new information yesterday when we met."
My chest constricts.
He waits for me to confirm his statement, and I dip my chin. Where is he going with this? I lean farther into Wes, his hand between both of mine in my lap.
"I apologize that it took this long to verify the evidence, but we had to be one-hundred-percent sure. The coincidence was suspicious, to say the least."
I can feel my pulse pumping through my veins and wish he'd finally say it. Before I can voice my irritation, though, Mags does it for me.
"Spit it out, pretty boy. None of us have any patience left after the last few days."
Jaxon cocks an eyebrow, but not in an annoying way. He holds Mags's eyes for longer than necessary before he settles on me again.
"Isaiah Ellis's body was found by a hiker a few weeks after you…defended his victim." His words are careful, and I peer at Mrs. Sheats. She doesn't seem fazed, which is unnerving. What have they told her about me?
"His body had been unearthed by scavengers and used as their personal all-you-can-eat buffet—"
"Jax!" Lilly scolds.
"Sorry." He throws her a sheepish grin.
How on earth did this guy pass the bar?
"Anyway, due to the state his body was found…" He throws a Is this better? look at Lilly, to which she moves her hand in a go-on motion.
"A thorough autopsy was performed. The cause of death was a stab wound to the neck. The knife that was used nicked his C4 vertebrae, and forensics concluded that, based on the angle and marks on the bone, the blade was curved." He stares at me, and my stomach sinks—my Du Hoc.
I roll my lips under, unable to form words, and Jaxon continues. "Their investigation found that the security footage of the night Ellis disappeared was erased. The evidence found on-site showed a struggle and that the victim lost a lot of blood. They eventually tracked down the girl you dropped off at the ER, but she had been drugged out of her mind. All she could recall was coming into the club for a second interview, finding Ellis and his guard there, and that a woman drove her to the hospital."
Everyone in the room is tense as he recalls that part of the night, and I experience a wave of relief that the girl doesn't remember what E did to her. The scene will be forever burned into my brain.
"In short, she was of no help as to what had happened—until his body turned up. The police started interviewing staff and—I guess—regulars, and when a unique blade was mentioned, your name was dropped. There was a lot of footage of you on the club's website and social media presence, and despite you using a fake ID, Ellis had your full name in his records."
"Why did they not arrest me when I started working for Grizz?" I used the fake ID, but if they knew that name as well, wouldn't they've been able to track me down? Isn't everything online these days?
Jaxon's gaze lands on Mags, and I lean forward to get a good look at her. She fidgets under his scrutiny before she makes eye contact with me. "Grizz never filed your employment papers. The stuff you filled out… He never reported you as an employee. He paid you out of his own pocket. Don't ask me how he did the books on his end, but I know you are not on them. And you cashed the check every month, so…officially, you didn't work there."
What?
My jaw drops. "Why?" Why would he—?
"You need to ask him." Her gaze is back on Jaxon.
I need to figure out their relationship. This makes no sense.
"Anyway," Jaxon pulls everyone's attention back to him. "That's why you flew under the radar until last week."
"This is all my fault," Lilly speaks up. "I made you come to the wedding." Rhys places his hands on her shoulders in support, and Mrs. Sheats pats her knee.
"No, it isn't. I was living on borrowed time," I tell no one in particular. If they had E's body and knew about my knife, someone would've eventually found me—tied the knife wound to me.
"Why was I released if they knew that my knife killed him?" I don't have it in me anymore to talk around it.
Marcus steps away from his spot and positions himself next to Jaxon. "They found the real killer Friday night."
My heart halts. Everyone is silent. They all watch me closely while I stare at Marcus, then Jaxon. My brows pull together as I repeat his words in my mind. The real killer?
"I don't understand," I whisper.
Wes interlaces our fingers, and I keep my other hand wrapped around both of ours. His touch is the only thing that keeps me anchored.
Jaxon nods at Marcus, who first looks at Lilly, then back at me. "Lilly received an alert late Friday night. We have watchers in place for everyone involved in her case. The body of a male was dumped in an alley two blocks down from a police station in New Mexico. Then, a caller anonymously reported the body from a burner phone."
"A male?" My body temperature drops.
"Your father." Marcus's tone is flat. "Francis Turner is dead."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Several sharp intakes of breath reverberate through the room. My chest constricts when his words sink in, but not because Gray is dead—he deserved whatever he got. For King.
Yes, she hasn't had a relationship with her father since she was a little girl, but he was her father. No matter what he's done, she didn't deserve to lose every member of her family.
An ache settles in the back of my throat as I scan the room. My mom covers her mouth, blinking rapidly. Dad mimics the sorrow I feel as he watches King closely. Lilly reaches back, placing both hands on top of Rhys's on her shoulders, and Den's nails dig into my thigh. I can't see Mags or Kiwi, but I'm sure I would find similar displays. King sits rigidly as her fingers have mine in a crushing vise. She stares at Marcus, unblinking.
I peer over at Kai's obnoxious scoreboard-style clock next to the flat-screen TV. Even the blinking dots seem to have slowed down. Echo presses farther against King's shins from her spot at our feet. We're all waiting for her reaction.
King parts her lips, but no sound comes out. Minutes tick by before she finds her voice. "Gray…is…dead?" There is an elongated pause between each word.
Jaxon and Marcus nod.
"Yes. George flew to New Mexico as soon as we got the news. He identified the body," Marcus elaborates.
That's why he had to leave.
"What happened?" I decide to take over. King doesn't have to carry the burden of this on her own. I want to be the one she leans on. She isn't alone anymore.
Jaxon bends down and pulls a folder from his bag. He takes a photo out and places it on the coffee table. King and I scoot closer to get a better look. In front of us is a picture of her Du Hoc blade. It looks like an evidence photograph, with a ruler on the side and smudges on the blade—blood? I'm studying the picture when the knife appears on the table next to it.
King's Du Hoc.
My eyes fly up to the two men in front of us. What the hell is this?
"I don't understand." King exhales, glancing between me, Marcus, and Jaxon.
"Gray was stabbed multiple times. With this knife." He points at the photograph. "A note that read, 'What goes around comes around,' was pinned to the body, along with a copy of an article that reported the murder of Victor Sidhrov."
Pinned? As in—? Saliva pools in my mouth, and I swallow hard. I have no love for the man, but pinned?
King shakes her head. "Vic worked for Gray."
He did? I missed that memo.
I peer at King, who has
her eyes narrowed on Jaxon.
His chest rises and falls once before he nods.
"George has been pulling strings for the last thirty-six hours. The knife contained traces of Gray's and Sidhrov's blood, as well as Ellis's." Everyone's attention shifts to Marcus. His arms folded in front of him, he holds his chin high.
"How is that possible?" Den queries, and for the first time, Marcus answers without hatred lacing his words.
"We can explain Gray's and Vic's blood, but Ellis's was obviously planted."
Obviously?
"How?" Kiwi joins the mix, and I clench my teeth not to tell the room to shut the fuck up. The only thing, or person, holding me back is King. She doesn't seem to mind letting our friends find the information out for her. Is she in shock? Does she care that he is dead? Does she not care? I can't ask any of this in front of an audience. It becomes harder to follow the conversation. My sole focus is on my girlfriend and the deep-rooted urge to know what she needs from me.
"We're not sure," Jaxon responds.
"Do we care?" Mags blurts out, and several sets of eyes turn to her—except King's. She's still studying the photo, with one of her hands now on the blade. Her blade.
"We helped solidify the evidence." Lilly's quiet confession makes my heartbeat falter.
"What do you mean?" King has a slight quiver in her question. Her gaze remains locked on the items on the table. I untangle one of my hands to pull her into my side.
Instead of Lilly, Marcus answers, looking as innocent as a choirboy. "The girl you helped was the mere tip of the iceberg. We may have nudged the authorities in the direction of what went on inside The Pole."
"What happened…" King slowly repeats. Her head lifts, and she first peers at Lilly, then at her attorney, and last, at Marcus. We're all waiting for them to let us in on what they cooked up to save my girlfriend.