Page 162 of Stay with Me
“Then, I hate to be rude but ...”
His lips quirked. “I’ve always liked your bluntness, Jackson.”
“I’m assuming that’s a good thing.”
Isaiah simply smiled as he stood, buttoning his jacket. “I wish you both good luck in the future. I’ll see myself out.” He strode past the couch, but stopped in front of the door and faced us. “One last thing, Miss Fritz.”
My heart thudded against my ribs. “Yes?”
“If you see your mother or hear from her, please let her know that she is not welcome in this county or this state,” he said softly. “As I said, I do not like loose ends.”
Then he was gone.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Jax stood swiftly, bent, and kissed my forehead before striding toward the front door. He checked the outside then locked it. Turning to me, he stretched his neck and sighed. “Well then.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know what to say. He basically just told me everything is going to be okay and then threatened my mom, right? I mean, that is just what happened?”
“Yeah, it is.” Jax walked over to me and crouched down so we were eye level. “I was not expecting that.”
I coughed out a laugh and then cringed. “Me neither. I mean, wow. That was like something straight out of a mob film. Do you—”
His phone rang from inside his pocket. Straightening, he reached in, looked at the screen, and then cursed before he answered it. “Yeah?”
I watched him turn and walk toward the living room window. “Serious?” He thrust his other hand through his hair and then let his arm drop. “Well, can’t say I’m too torn up about that.”
My brows knitted. What in the world was going on now? I grabbed the blanket, rolled it into a giant ball, and held it to my chest.
“Okay. Yeah, we need to talk. Tomorrow’s good. I got to head back to the bar tomorrow night.” He turned to me. “Yeah, Calla is doing good. She’ll be fine.” Another pause. “All right, talk to you later, man.”
Jax hung up, and I waited as patiently as humanly possible as he made his way back over to me. “Well, that was quick. Like really quick.”
“What?”
He sat down, got his arms around me, and carefully tucked me into his chest, blanket ball and all. Tilting his chin down, his eyes met mine. “That was Reece. You’ll probably end up getting a visit tomorrow morning from his brother.”
That familiar burn of anxiety slithered through my veins. “Why?”
His eyes searched mine for a moment. “They just found Mack’s body out on a county road. Bullet to the head. Execution-style.”
“Holy ...” I breathed. “Oh my God.” He said nothing as he smoothed my hair back from my face, and we were quiet for a long time as that really sank it. I didn’t know how to feel. Mack shot at me—had shot me. He’d threatened me. And he probably didn’t care if I lived or died as he tried to “fix” things with Isaiah, but still, he was dead now and I didn’t think it was right to feel okay with that. So I didn’t know how to feel. “That was fast,” I said stupidly.
“Yeah.”
“So Isaiah really did—”
“Don’t finish that.” He pressed a finger against my lips for a second. “We don’t want to know everything and we don’t want to carry it down that road, Calla. It is as simple as that. Plausible deniability, and fuck, you aren’t going to have that shit on your conscience. Okay? That’s not on us.”
I lowered my gaze. “I know it’s not on us. Mack’s not where he is because of me. It’s because of what he did. I just ... I don’t know how to feel about this.”
His lips brushed my forehead. “Honey, you don’t need to feel anything except a bit of relief. You’re safe. And fuck, that’s all that matters.”
I nodded and then it really sank in. I whispered, “It’s over.”
His arms tightened around me as he brushed his lips over my cheek. “Yeah, honey, it’s over.”
I woke up to the most pleasant sensation in the world, so good and so yummy I thought at first I had to be dreaming. But I wasn’t. Oh no, this was a dream, but the kind you lived and breathed.
