Chapter 48 - Jag
The yacht rocks against the dock pilings, engines humming, ready to depart. The security team forms a loose ring around me, armed and vigilant. They know trouble when they smell it, and they’re not about to let me slip past them again.
But the real trouble is on the dock.
Wolf stands in the middle of it, louder than the wind, shoving verbal knives into every Strakh within range. Kodiak. Leonid. Monty. Even Frankie showed up.
Dove stands under Wolf’s arm, close against his side, holding him steady as the argument spirals out of control.
When the security team hauled me to the yacht, she pulled on warmer clothes and followed. Certainly not because she wanted to give me a proper goodbye.
She’s here for Wolf.
“No!” he shouts again, voice cracking across the water. “You’re not listening. I can’t let him leave without telling us what the hell is going on!”
“He’s not staying on the island.” Monty jabs a finger in Frankie’s direction. “I won’t risk the life of my pregnant wife.”
“Keep me out of this.” Frankie huffs.
Security shifts. The night shifts. My pulse remains calm.
Wolf wants answers I can’t give.
He thinks if he twirls his blade, curves his sexy lips, and lays on the full force of his charm, I’ll fold. He doesn’t know that the part of me capable of folding already surrendered to the Restrepo cartel.
I didn’t come here to offer explanations and build relationships.
I came to sever bonds and rest my eyes on Dove one last time.
And I did.
I saw her with Wolf. Curled against him in his bed, tucked tightly to his chest, his arm slung possessively around her. I saw them fitted together the way she used to fit with me.
I stood in their doorway long enough to memorize her quiet breathing and his protective grip. When I slipped the rock into her palm, he shifted and tensed, alerted by his feral sixth sense.
He didn’t wake fully, but he reacted.
Because she’s his.
I saw what I came to see. Saw enough to know she’ll be worshiped and loved and safe. That’s the only ending I ever wanted for her.
Now I must go.
My ending is already sealed, my fate signed in blood. The cartel gave me twenty-four hours to say goodbye.
I’m returning to Colombia tomorrow, whether Wolf wins this fight or not.
Dove breaks from the arguing cluster, steps to the edge of the dock, and glares at me.
“Fix this, Jag.” She lifts her chin. “It’s not a secret that you have enemies. Which one are you running from? How bad is it? If you don’t want me in the cross-hairs, tell us what we’re up against!”
Wolf turns, watching us, waiting for my response.
I hold Dove’s stare from the yacht’s railing. The moon glances off the water, illuminating the moat between us.
No matter how this night ends, she can’t find out about House of Crowe or what waits for me in Colombia.
“I want the truth.” She bares her teeth. “You owe me answers.”
I owe her a happy life, so I give her the only thing I can.
Silence.
In that silence lies blissful ignorance. It may not be blissful for her now, but it will be. After I’m gone.
Wolf continues to study me, his expression morphing from concern to calculation.
His eyes track every inch of me, flick to Dove, then back again. His jaw flexes. His nostrils flare. Then his expression settles. A decision made.
He strides toward Dove, cups her shoulders, and turns her to face him. His head dips, his mouth close to her ear. She stiffens, spine ironed straight.
Whatever he’s telling her, she hates it.
Her eyes dart to me, accusing and wounded, before she whispers something back to him, a rebuke too soft for me to catch. Her hands curl against his ribs, not pushing, but not accepting, either.
They argue quietly. Harsh breaths. Narrowed eyes. Controlled frustration. He doesn’t raise his voice, and she doesn’t snap back. It’s mature and healthy, the way they challenge each other without spilling anything loud enough for the family to hear.
Then she exhales, shoulders sagging, and gives the smallest nod. I know her well enough to determine that she still disagrees but trusts him anyway.
Sliding a hand across his cheek, she runs her thumb along his jaw. He closes his eyes like she’s grounding him, sealing whatever deal he just whittled out between them.
She murmurs something, a final warning or plea, one last piece of her I’ll never be allowed to translate.
Then he squares his shoulders and pivots to face his family.
“I’m taking Jag back to Sitka, and Dove is staying here.” When they protest, he talks over them. “I’ll bring the guards and return before any of you start hyperventilating.”
My stomach hardens.
Whatever he intends to do with me, I know it’s going to push me to the brink of my control.
He murmurs something to Kodiak. Whatever it is, Kodiak turns away and lumbers toward the main house, his heavy steps swallowing the dock.
Wolf moves to the cleats and starts untying the mooring lines. That’s when Dove breaks into motion, hurrying across the gangway and coming straight for me.
Security tightens instantly, a wall of muscle and weapons closing the path, but she waves them off and pushes through, stepping right up to me.
She grabs my shirt in both fists and yanks me down until her mouth is at my ear. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.” She leans back to see my face.
“I swear it.” I lift my hand between us, extending my pinky.
Her chin trembles as she stares at it. Then she loops our fingers together and kisses them with a reverence that kills me.
I kiss them next. The easiest promise I’ve ever made.
Without warning, she throws her arms around me and hauls me against her chest.
I fold into it, starved for her affection. My arms crush her tight, imprinting the shape of her into my bones.
Her hair brushes my jaw. Her heartbeat thuds against mine, and for a moment, I let myself feel the weight of what I’m losing, what I never had, and what I never deserved.
“Whatever’s going on with you…” She pulls away, letting her hands skim down my arms. “Don’t let this be the end of us.”
That’s a promise I can’t keep.
So I offer her the best smile I can manage—forced, thinly-shaped, and broken at the corners.
Behind her, Wolf steps onto the gangway.
With a sigh, she gives me a final, longing look and goes to him, walking right into his open arms.
He holds her, whispers private words, and leaves her with a claiming kiss. An oath, a line drawn, and a silent agreement, all shoved into that single collision of mouths.
A fist closes around my throat. Not jealousy. It’s envy. Anguish. Resolution.
Kodiak returns from the house and lumbers onto the yacht behind Wolf, unreadable as ever.
Great. The dark one is joining the field trip. Exactly what I needed. A second apex predator staring at the back of my skull while my life unravels.
On the dock, Leonid guides Dove toward Monty and Frankie, keeping a protective hand at her back. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t stop watching me, either.
The yacht shudders, engines deepening, and we begin to drift.
I move to the aft railing.
She stands between Leonid and Monty, eyes locked on me.
The distance stretches.
She stays rooted.
I keep my face still.
This… This is what saying goodbye to the only person I’ve ever loved feels like.
A slow, surgical tearing.
A separation of bone from marrow.
I hold the railing with both hands as everything inside me strains toward her. Instinct. Memory. Ruin. But my body doesn’t move. I won’t let it. Outward composure is the last currency I have left, and I hold onto it like a dying man.
My throat burns, but I don’t swallow. My chest constricts, but I don’t breathe deeper. My gaze remains fixed, unblinking, absorbing the sight of her.
Inside, it’s carnage. Regret thrashes. Desire bleeds. Grief ruptures.
I watch her watch me until the dock is just a shape, and she’s just a blur, and the night swallows the sound of her heartbeat.
I don’t look away. Not until she’s gone.
Moments later, the spark of a lighter cracks behind me.
Wolf steps up to my side, shoulder brushing mine, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
“Frankie and my dad…” Smoke rolls from his mouth. “They’re a disaster. A beautiful, money-soaked disaster.”
“Why do I care?”
“Oh, that’s just the appetizer. Leo and Kody? Worse. Gorilla-brain energy. Territorial as hell. Ready to rearrange faces over absolutely nothing. One time, Leo punched a bartender because the guy blinked at Frankie with too much enthusiasm.”
“He… Blinked?”
“Yeah. Leo said it was a flirty blink. It was probably dust. Didn’t matter. Dude got launched.”
I stare ahead at the dark water, refusing to engage.
“They’re overbearing and needlessly foul,” he goes on. “A grunting, mauling, animal kingdom soap opera. They’ve been banned from half the establishments in Sitka. The other half only tolerates them because Monty tips like he’s trying to buy the building.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you act the same way about Dove.”
My jaw locks.
“But…” He flicks ash over the side. “There’s one difference.” He takes a slow drag, eyes cutting to me. “Frankie’s men don’t leave. They stick. Through the awful parts. The broken parts. The parts that reshape a man’s existence. They stay.”
He doesn’t look away.
Neither do I.
“This is what you want.” I harden my voice. “You want me gone so you can have her. Now you have her. You won.”
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” He makes a disgusted sound. “That’s my grand master plan. Run you out of Sitka so I can collect Dove like a trading card.”
I glare.