9. Jackson
NINE
JACKSON
Our apartment has the comfortable kind of messiness to it tonight.
Two empty soda cans on the coffee table.
A half-open bag of chips on the counter.
Andres's hoodie is tossed over the back of the couch like we don’t have a coat closet right by the front door.
The TV is on but muted, some late-night sports recap playing to an audience of none.
I’m on the couch with my feet up, phone in my hand, pretending to scroll while my brain replays the last away game like a highlight reel I can’t pause.
Andres is in the kitchen, rinsing dishes with the calm competence of a man who likes order even when he pretends he doesn’t. The water runs, plates clinking as he sticks them in the dishwasher. He hums something under his breath, low enough that it’s almost a vibration.
It’s peaceful.
Which is exactly why the knock at the door feels like a gunshot.
Three sharp raps. No hesitation. No “Hey, it’s me.”
Andres turns the water off instantly and I sit up.
We look at each other.
Andres wipes his hands on a towel as he crosses the room. I’m already moving too, bare feet hitting the floor, my heart ticking up for no reason other than my body not understanding the difference between danger and the unexpected.
Andres opens the door.
Kai and Gael stand there looking guarded.
“Kai?” Andres says, his voice instantly low. “What’s going on?”
Neither Kai nor Gael answers right away. Then Kai steps inside without waiting to be invited, like this is his house and the world is something he kicks the door in on when it threatens what’s his.
Gael follows, closing the door behind him and suddenly our peaceful night is gone.
“What happened?” I ask because Kai doesn’t show up like this for fun.
Kai pulls his phone out so hard it looks like he might snap it in half.
“Isla got a message,” he chokes out, and I can tell he’s struggling to keep his shit together.
“Steve,” Gael supplies, like Kai can’t even say the name without tasting something rotten.
My stomach drops.
Ah yes. Steve. Isla’s ex. The guy who didn’t take the breakup like an adult and instead turned into the kind of man you warn women about. Even though, according to Isla, he cheated on her the entire time they were together.
Kai holds the phone up.
The text is on the screen.
Steve
You let your brother fuck his baby into you… you nasty fucking cunt. It would be a shame if you just didn’t come home from campus one day, huh?
There’s serious intent behind that threat.
My throat tightens. “Holy shit.”
Andres's body goes still beside me. His hand finds the back of my neck automatically, thumb pressing once, doing his best to steady me.
Kai’s eyes flick to me.
“She’s pregnant,” he whispers, like he’s reminding us of the most important part. Like it’s the fact that makes everything else unforgivable.
“She’s my wife,” he adds, and the way his voice drops on “wife” sounds like a vow and a warning.
Gael rubs a hand down his face. “Isla tried to downplay it at first. Didn’t want to stress him out.”
Kai’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “She didn’t want to stress me out.”
Andres's jaw flexes. “Where is she now?”
“In the apartment,” Kai says. “With Adriana. Doors locked.”
He paces once, like he can’t hold still because his body wants motion, action, something. Then he stops and looks right at us.
“I need help,” he says and the room goes quiet.
Kai doesn’t ask for help. Kai takes care of things before help is even a thought. So if he’s here, eyes blazing, that means this has crossed the line into something even he knows he shouldn’t do alone.
“What do you need?” Andres asks immediately.
I don’t even hesitate. “Name it.”
Gael’s gaze flicks to me, then Andres, and I see it there too.
Kai’s shoulders lift on a breath. “I’m not letting him think he can threaten her and walk away,” he says. “I’m not letting him think he can still reach her.”
His hand tightens around his phone.
“I’m gonna get rid of Steve.”
Andres doesn’t flinch, but I feel the subtle change in his posture, the way he becomes a wall with a heartbeat.
“Okay,” Andres says carefully. “Define get rid.”
Kai’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile.
Gael steps in like a translator. “Kai means… take the problem off the board.”
I swallow hard.
“Are we talking about getting police involved? Or making a call to 811?” I offer up, because I don’t know what the fuck else to say at this point.
My mind goes places it shouldn’t because I know Kai. I’ve seen the obsession up close. I’ve heard the way he talks about Isla like she’s oxygen. Like the world can burn as long as she’s safe. And suddenly I’m aware of my own pulse, loud in my ears.
I force myself to breathe.
Kai plants his feet. “He’s been escalating. Through friends. Through burner numbers. He sent this tonight because he wanted her scared.”
He looks at Andres. “And he got what he wanted.”
Andres's expression hardens. “No. He wanted her alone.”
Kai’s nostrils flare.
“He won’t get that again,” Andres says, calm but lethal.
I glance between them. This is the part where guys like us, with too much loyalty and too much anger, can turn into headlines. The part where “protecting her” becomes “ruining everything.”
I clear my throat. “Whose car are we taking?” I say, trying to keep it light because the alternative is letting the room tilt into something darker. “Because this could get tricky.”
Kai’s eyes flash, like he appreciates the practicality.
Gael exhales a short laugh, more relief than humor.
Andres gives me a look. One that says, “Could you fucking not?” Because he knows my mouth. He knows I use jokes like shields.
Kai starts pacing again, words coming faster now. “I don’t care if it’s tricky. I don’t care if it’s messy. I don’t care if it costs money. I just need it handled.”
“Or,” I say, because my own dark humor is a reflex I hate sometimes, “we could always give him a shot of insulin.”
The second the words leave my mouth, the room freezes. Silence so loud it feels like pressure in my skull. Andres's head snaps toward me and his eyes go sharp.
Gael’s eyebrows shoot up like I just announced I’m starting a cult.
Kai stops pacing and for a terrifying half-second… I can’t tell if he’s about to laugh or take it seriously.
My stomach drops through the floor. I hold up both hands immediately. “No. No. That was… that was a joke. A bad one.”
Andres's voice is calm, but it has teeth. “Jackson.”
“I know,” I say quickly, heat rising up my neck. “I know. I shouldn’t have said it.”
Kai stares at me, his expression unreadable.
Then Andres steps closer to me, not blocking me but anchoring me, and says in a voice that leaves no room for debate, “We don’t do anything that puts us in a cage.”
Kai’s jaw tightens.
Gael nods once, firmly. “Exactly. Not worth it.”
Kai’s hands flex like he’s fighting himself. Fighting the part of him that wants to solve this with violence because violence feels simple when fear is loud.
Andres continues, voice steady. “We’re going to handle him. The right way. The way that keeps Isla safe and keeps you out of prison.”
Kai’s gaze flicks to Andres. “The right way doesn’t feel fast enough.”
“It can be fast,” I say, softer now, serious. “Just not… that.”
I swallow, forcing myself to look him in the eye.
“Kai,” I add, “you want him gone? We can make him gone without giving him a reason to come back harder.”
Gael leans forward, forearms on his knees. “We document everything. Get a lawyer involved. Save every screenshot. Dates. Numbers. We get it to the right people.”
Kai’s mouth twists. “The right people?”
Andres nods once. “Team security. Team legal. Police report. Restraining order. If he violates it, he gets arrested. If he shows up, he gets trespassed. If he keeps contacting her, it becomes a pattern.”
Kai’s eyes burn. “And if he’s smart?”
“Most men like Steve aren’t,” I mutter, because the kind of man who threatens a pregnant woman isn’t exactly a genius. He’s a coward.
Andres's hand slides to my thigh, giving a firm warning squeeze. Careful, baby.
I inhale. “We can also put eyes on him. Know what he’s doing. Where he’s going. Who he’s talking to.”
Gael nods. “Yeah, yeah, like a private investigator. Someone legit.”
Kai’s chest rises and falls like he’s trying to breathe through a fire. “What I want,” he says slowly, “is for him to understand that he can’t touch her. He can’t even think about her.”
Andres's expression goes cold. “Then we make the world close in on him.”
I blink.
That’s… terrifying.
But also exactly what Kai needs to hear.
Andres keeps going, methodical with the way he likes to plan things. “We put pressure where it hurts him. Legal pressure. Real consequences. Make him regret ever typing her name.”
Gael points at Kai’s phone. “We start with the report and getting the legal team involved.”
Kai’s eyes flick to me. “You guys in?”
My heartbeat steadies because this I can do.
I nod. “Yeah.”
Andres doesn’t even hesitate. “For sure.”
Gael’s voice is quiet but solid. “You know I’ve always got your back.”
Kai exhales. It’s not relief, but it will have to do for now.
“Okay,” Kai says. “Come with us to the apartment.”
As we grab the house keys and sweatshirts, my watch pings with a notification.
My CGM.
I glance down. Ninety-two with a slanted arrow.
Not falling fast, but trending down.
Andres sees it anyway, because of course he does. Then he looks me dead in the eye and murmurs, “Food first, mi sol.”
Even with Kai on the verge of turning into a weapon.
Andres makes me his first priority and god, if that doesn’t make me fall more in love with him. I swallow, nod once, and grab a granola bar off the counter as we head for the door.
Andres
The calls end with a string of yeses and next steps. Team legal takes the screenshots and the numbers and the timestamps like they’re collecting pieces of shrapnel.