Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Jax
Ihold back Kira’s hair as she dry heaves into the toilet, Nix and Caleb behind me. The bathroom is the size of a two-car garage, but they’re right on my back, huddled against me as they fire off questions.
Apparently, they could see the shit show from the window.
I can only thank fuck that James is out the door at five a.m. every morning for his commute to the city.
I thought that the brick wall of ashes I left on Kira’s property would halt Layton’s pathetic little investigation, but it seems he’s found one last tree to bark up, as futile as it may be.
“You did so good, baby. This is just a last-ditch effort on his part.” I try to soothe her even as my chest constricts.
Watching her fall apart like this, while all I can do is hold her hair, makes fire burn through my veins.
I want to tear Layton apart with my bare hands, feel the satisfaction of making him pay for even daring to come here.
But I don’t have that option right now. All I have are words, and I find myself stupidly babbling, not too dissimilar from my brother.
“I mean, they’ll probably rip apart your truck,” I wince at my admission and quickly try to salvage it. “But I’ll buy you a new one. Unless—” Shit. Does she have an attachment to the truck like she did the house? “Unless you want me to get it rebuilt?”
The part of me that’s weak and pathetic for Kira is showing, but I don’t give a fuck. I’d do anything to make her feel better.
“They have the truck?” Nix’s voice is tight, almost a whisper, and I feel Kira jerk out of my grasp, springing to her feet.
Tears streak down her cheeks as she spins on me. “What good will a truck do me from jail?!”
I frown, confused. “He’s just digging. He doesn’t have anything—”
“He has my truck!” she shrieks, clawing at her hair, panic radiating off her in waves.
Caleb mutters a curse under his breath. I glance at him and then at Nix, just now seeing how pale they’ve turned, and something clicks.
“What’s in the truck?” I ask, my jaw already working.
No one answers as Kira sinks down onto the tile. Nix drops to her knees beside her and wraps her arms around her, pressing her forehead into Kira’s hair.
“I’m so sorry,” Nix whispers.
I’ve never seen the younger Noland look so concerned before, and my blood runs cold at the display.
“What’s. In. The. Truck?” I roar, turning to Caleb.
He avoids my eyes, wincing. “DNA? Maybe?”
“DNA?” I scoff, searching all three of their faces. “Why would there be DNA?”
Something doesn’t make sense. I torched Caleb’s car for DNA. There shouldn’t be anything in that piece of shit at Marley’s. It didn’t even run. And both Nix and Caleb said Marshal died in Nix’s room. There’s no fucking way I just handed Layton everything he needs to put Kira Noland in prison.
“I may… have forgotten that we… uh…” Caleb stutters, his shoulders hunching in on him.
“Forgot what?” I snap, my patience nonexistent. “You don’t forget anything when you’re dealing with a murder.”
“Marshal… We moved him. From the bed of their truck to my car. But, I mean, he wasn’t even in there that long. I don’t remember seeing blood but… but that doesn’t mean…”
“It doesn’t mean that there isn’t DNA,” I finish for him. “FUCK.” The walls shake with my outburst.
I pace the bathroom, my anger needing to go somewhere.
But I’m caged, blocked in from every angle.
No wonder Layton was so smug. He must know I can’t go to James, otherwise he would have already been shut down.
He’s obviously done his research, if him knowing I can represent Kira is any indicator.
All he needs is one hair fiber, one skin cell, and he can bury her.
There’s no way there isn’t a fleck of dried blood in the bed of that piece of shit truck.
Why did no one tell me? Why did they let me take it to Marley’s? If I wasn’t so fucking distracted with Kira, with trying to make her happy, it would have burned right next to the house. But I saved it. For her. The one nice thing I tried to do, and it’s going to be the thing to rip her from me.
But I didn’t know.
Marshal died in Nix’s bedroom. They were at Horizon Bluff in Caleb’s car.
How was I to deduce they first put him in the truck?
But not knowing doesn’t save her. I should have known.
From the beginning, this has been nothing like my usual jobs.
I never leave a stone unturned. Because of my preoccupation with Kira, I should have gone above and beyond.
I should have fucking grilled them all more.
But that’s not usually my job, is it? James normally gives me all the information I need, his cold and cruel appraisal with the clients something I don’t have to bother myself with.
Fuck.
All I’ve done is promise Kira, again and again, that I’ll handle everything, but I’ve let her down.
“There must be something we can do…” Caleb says.
“Like what?” My tone is sharper than intended.
“They already have the truck. The time to get rid of it has passed. Layton has a fucking hard-on for us, for whatever reason—the fucking boy scout. And I can’t go to the captain without James’ finding out we’ve brought an investigation into his house.
We’re lucky enough as it is that he wasn’t here for the parade of cops in his drive. ”
“But—” Caleb starts.
“I don’t know!” I growl. “Let me think.”
Massaging my temple with one hand, I let my hand rest on the gun in my waistband.
That comforter they wrapped Marshal in had blood all over it.
And if they put that in the bed of the truck…
Layton has all he needs. There will most likely be a trial, because there’s no way I’m letting Kira accept a plea deal.
It wouldn’t be anything less than twenty years anyway, since Marshal was a cop.
She also wouldn’t get bail. Even if I somehow convinced a jury of reasonable doubt, she would be sitting in a cell for months.
And that can’t happen.
I can’t be away from Kira Noland for more than an hour without my skin crawling, and that’s even when I know she’s safe.
If she’s in prison, she’ll be subjected to all sorts of vile things—from the other inmates, from the male guards.
And they would definitely want a piece of her.
They would have her on her knees, their filthy fucking—
I throw my fist into the bathroom mirror to stop the thought. The glass shatters, my knuckles splitting with hot blood. FUCK.
“Jax—” Caleb tries.
“DON’T.” I stab a finger at him, barely restrained, my world crumbling.
He doesn’t know what they do to you in prison.
He hasn’t had the bandaid ripped off yet.
My first year at Columbia, James had me fielding every complaint from represented inmates at the firm.
I spent more time at Rikers than I did in class.
The abuse some of them experienced… no amount of money could protect them.
And James’ clientele isn’t exactly low on funds.
They’re the richest of the rich, flush with dirty cash, but it still couldn’t help them in that hellhole.
“Just don’t.” I lower my hand, my anger melting into despair as droplets of blood hit the white marble.
I don’t know what to do, how to fix this. I’ve failed her. I want to drop to my knees and beg her to tell the truth, that it was Nix, just so I can keep her. But I know she would never let her sister go to prison. And she would likely still do time as an accomplice.
“Can we flee?” Nix looks up at me. “Like to Mexico or—”
“They likely already flagged her passport, if she has one,” I cut her off. “And I don’t know anyone that can get her a fake identity with a two-day turnaround that won’t alert James.”
“Two days?” Kira’s eyes are rimmed red and puffy. “Why two days?”
I grimace and hang my head. “That’s when you’ll be charged and arrested.”
There will be a rush on the DNA considering the circumstances of the case, and I don’t doubt that Layton will be bearing down on the forensics lab. She has two days max, three if whoever’s in charge doesn’t like Layton.
She makes a noise in the back of her throat, an attempt at swallowing a whimper, and my chest tightens. I want to tell her that we’ll figure it out, that I won’t allow it to come to that, anything to take her pain away. But I don’t make false promises.
And I don’t see a way out of this.