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Jaxon blinks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Liam shrugs like Jaxon just told him it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. “That’s the part where he fucked up.” He leans back against the sofa, draping one arm across the backrest without a care in the world. “You called us all the way out to bum-fuck nowhere just to tell us that?”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere,” I grumble.

“Conor,” Finn says, deadpan, “your nearest neighbor is a deer.”

Jaxon’s gaze bounces between my brothers, confusion written all over his face. Because they’re treating a threat from Henry like it’s an inconvenience rather than a crisis.

“I’m serious,” Jaxon says quietly. The room settles immediately.

“I know you are.” Liam’s easy grin fades. “And so are we.”

The shift is subtle but unmistakable. One second, he’s joking. Next, every person in the room is paying attention.

“Henry threatened family,” Finn says simply. “That means we deal with Henry.”

Jaxon’s eyes widen slightly. I can practically see him struggling to understand how everyone arrived at the same conclusion so quickly. How no one is blaming him, no one is angry, or how no one is asking him to leave. They’re doing the opposite. Closing ranks around him. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.

Across the room, a look passes between Xavier and Colton. It’s brief. So brief that most people probably wouldn’t notice it. I do. Colton lifts an eyebrow. Xavier gives the smallest nod. Some silent agreement passes between them.

The two have become close over the last few months. After everything Colton went through, Xavier seemed to understand parts of it better than most people. Not because their situations were the same. But because they both know what it’s like to carry scars that aren’t always visible.

Whatever conversation just happened between them, it didn’t require words. One look was enough. And judging by the concern on both their faces, I have a feeling it has something to do with the man sitting beside me.

“I know this may seem out of the blue, but before I…” He glances at Colton and smiles faintly. “Before we tell you our story, I need to know if you’ll keep our secrets.”

I look over at Jaxon. Confusion flashes across his face. He’s trying to figure out where this is coming from and what he’s missing. The answer is a lot. For a moment, nobody speaks. Xavier waits patiently, giving Jaxon time to think. Giving him the same respect everyone in this family has tried to give him from the beginning.

“Can I keep your secrets?” Jaxon repeats quietly. Xavier nods. “Of course. I won’t tell anyone anything we discuss here.” The answer comes without hesitation. Without conditions. Without questions.

I watch the realization move across Jaxon’s face. For the first time since he walked into my life, he’s being asked to carry someone else’s burden instead of having everyone carry his. He’s being trusted. Given something instead of simply receiving help. And based on the way his shoulders straighten slightly, he feels the difference.

“Let me start by saying that your fear for us,” Xavier says, his gaze moving around the room, “while understandable, is unnecessary.”

The room goes quiet. Even Ollie seems content to sit in Colton’s lap and play with his toy. Beside me, Jaxon stills. I can feel the tension running through him even with our hands joined.

“Last year,” Xavier continues, taking a slow breath, “I was kidnapped by three serial killers.”

My attention shifts to Declan. His entire body goes rigid. One arm wraps tighter around Xavier’s waist. I’ve seen this happen every single time Xavier tells this story. Declan hates hearing it. Not because he wants to pretend it never happened. Not because he thinks Xavier should keep it to himself. But because no matter how much time passes, he still blames himself. Still carries the weight of not being there, of not protecting the man he loves.

Without interrupting his train of thought, he reaches down and places his hand over Declan’s. A silent reassurance. I glance toward Jaxon. His eyes are wide, shock written plainly across his face.

Jaxon thinks he’s the only one in this room who’s survived something terrible. The only one bringing darkness to our doorstep. He’s about to find out how wrong he is.

“I was taken and tortured.” Xavier’s voice remains steady, but his hand tightens around Declan’s forearm. The reaction is immediate.

“A Ghrá,” Declan whispers. The two words carry enough pain to silence the room. Declan’s eyes never leave Xavier’s face. Like he’s checking for cracks that haven’t existed in a long time. Like part of him is still standing in that nightmare waiting to find Xavier.

“It’s okay, Declan.” Xavier’s expression softens instantly. “I’m okay.” He reaches up and cups Declan’s jaw. The gesture is practiced. The kind born from having this conversation more times than either of them should have needed to. Then he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to his husband’s lips. The tension in Declan’s shoulders eases slightly.

Turning back toward Jaxon, Xavier settles deeper into Declan’s lap. “The Murphys saved me.” His gaze sweeps around the room. “They found me.”

I look over at Jaxon. The color has drained from his face again. Not from fear this time, but from disbelief. Because the picture he’d built of my family doesn’t include things like this. It doesn’t include scars. It doesn’t include survival. It doesn’t include the fact that every person in this room has fought their own battles.

And that’s exactly why Xavier is telling him. Because Jaxon keeps looking at us like we’re people he needs to protect. When the truth is, we’ve been protecting not only ourselves but others for years.

“They came in guns blazing and rescued me.” A faint smile touches Xavier’s lips. “And those men will never hurt anyone ever again.”