38. Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
He presses his lips together, forming a straight line, then nods.
“I’m not sure how we can make this work,” I continue, shaking my head. “Trevor would never let me move away with the girls. And that’s not really fair to him.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I wouldn’t expect you to take them away from their dad, Allie,” he says, his voice soft.
My chest tightens while I desperately try to come up with a solution—one that works for everyone, and not just us. There really should be a guidebook for this: Falling in Love with a Rock Star while being a Single Mom .
“Let’s just take it one step at a time,” I suggest, forcing a small smile. “We can video chat, make plans. There’s no need to rush into any big decisions right now.”
He cups my face in his hands before pulling me toward him. Our lips meet, and my heart swells with so much love and hope, it almost hurts knowing that soon he’ll be gone.
Jax glides his thumbs over my cheeks, holding me gently. Our kiss deepens, and before I can stop them, tears start falling. He catches them right away, wiping them away with his thumbs.
He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes, and I see all the emotion building there. His voice cracks as he whispers, “I love you, Allie.”
A sob catches in my throat, and he pulls me close, resting my head against his chest while he rocks me gently on the bed. I cry softly into his shirt, and he smooths my hair, murmuring, “It’s okay,” and “I know,” over and over.
After what feels like forever, my breathing slows. Jax rubs my back, keeping me close. I blink a few times, trying to pull myself together, and finally glance at the clock. It’s already one o’clock. He’s got a four-hour drive ahead of him.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper, my voice muffled against his chest.
He lays his cheek on top of my head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to either,” he admits quietly.
Just then, Jax’s phone dings, breaking the moment. He sighs, pulls it out, glances at the screen, then tucks it back into his pocket.
“Don might’ve found us a fill-in drummer for now,” Jax says with a soft chuckle. “I guess we’re meeting him when I get back.”
I get up from the bed, offering my hand to him. He smirks, and before I know it, he pulls me onto his lap.
He holds me there for a moment, his breath warm against my ear while he whispers, “You’re my everything, Allie. When I can’t see past the storm, when everything feels like it’s falling apart, I think of you—and suddenly, everything makes sense again.”
We just sit there, holding each other, and I swear I could stay like this forever. But right now, forever is just impossible for us.
He has to go back.
Eventually we pull apart, making our way slowly to the front door. I open it and step out onto the porch, Jax following close behind.
He grabs my hand, pulling me in for one last hug, his fingers lightly digging into the back of my head. I breathe him in, trying to memorize this feeling, knowing I’ll need it every time I miss him.
“I’m definitely buying fifteen bottles of your cologne,” I laugh, looking up at him.
He chuckles, meeting my eyes. “It’s a good thing I left you one of my T-shirts in your bag,” he says, tipping my chin up to kiss me.
“I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs, lifting his pinky. “Pinky promise.”
We hook our pinkies together, sealing it with a kiss to the tips of our fingers.
I stand on the porch, watching Jax climb into his car, not moving until his taillights disappear down the street. My heart sinks a little more with every second he’s gone.
I finally step back inside, already missing him more than I want to admit.
Then it hits me. He mentioned a shirt . I practically sprint to my room, unzip my suitcase, and there it is: Jax’s old Metallica tee, folded neatly on top of my clothes. I bring it to my nose, close my eyes, and inhale deeply, savoring the smell of him.
I stand there for a while, just holding it to my face until a loud knock breaks the quiet of the house.
Smiling, I walk quickly to the front door, already guessing he forgot something, or maybe he came back because he missed me too.
I swing the door open. “What did you forg—”
I freeze, brows furrowing. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Allison Windsor?” the man asks, his voice steady and official. He’s dressed in khaki pants and a dark-green shirt with a New Hampshire State Police badge pinned to his pocket.
My stomach drops. Goose bumps rise on my arms. “Yeah, that’s me. Is… everything okay?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Ma’am, I’m Sheriff Ecklie,” he says, stamping a paper clipped to a thin stack on a clipboard. “I’m here because we’ve got a court appearance notice for you. We stopped by yesterday, but no one was home.”
“What’s it for?” I ask, my heart rate picking up as he hands me the papers.
“Can’t say for sure, ma’am,” he replies. “Do you need me to go over it with you?”
“N-no, that’s okay,” I mumble, barely able to get the words out.
He tips his hat, mutters something under his breath, and heads back to his cruiser. The engine starts, the sound fading while he drives off. But all I can hear now is the pounding in my ears.
I look down at the papers, my heart slamming in my chest. They’re from the local court, so it’s not about the accident. I know that much. But that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
My eyes skim over the words, slow at first. Each line hits harder than the last.
“He can’t take my babies,” I whisper, the words barely slipping out while tears start to fall.
Suddenly, Ana bursts through the front door, worry all over her face. “Hey, what’s going on?” she asks, glancing around. “Did I just see a cop car pulling out of the driveway?”
He can’t take my babies.
He can’t take my babies.
He can’t take my babies.
“Allie?” Ana’s voice cuts through the fog, her hand gently brushing my arm. “Hey, talk to me.”
He can’t take them.
I finally meet her eyes, my vision blurry, my voice almost nonexistent. “He can’t take them,” I say again, not being able to say anything else.
Ana’s eyes narrow before she takes the papers from my hands, scanning them fast. Her face shifts from confusion to complete shock.
“Trevor filed an emergency custody order?” she snaps, her voice higher than normal. “What the hell does he mean by ‘fears for his daughter’s safety’? What is he talking about?”
She keeps reading, her brow furrowing more with every word.
He can’t take my babies.
He can’t take my babies.
He can’t take my babies.
The words circle in my head, but now the fear’s changing. Turning into something stronger, more… angry .
This isn’t over.
Not without a hell of a fight.