7. Ava
Ava
The courthouse looms ahead like something straight out of a high stakes legal thriller I’d shelve in the suspense section with a little star sticker for extra drama.
My hands shake as Jax helps me out of the SUV.
The morning air bites cold against my cheeks.
I clutch my coat tighter around me and try not to trip over my own feet in the slushy parking lot.
My heart hammers so loud I’m sure the entire county can hear it. This is it.
Jax stays glued to my side. His big hand rests on my lower back. "You’ve got this," he murmurs low in my ear. His breath brushes my skin and sends little shivers racing down my spine that have nothing to do with the cold. "Eyes on me if it gets too much."
I nod and give him a shaky smile. "Okay. I’ll pretend I’m just dramatically reading the ingredient list on a cereal box to a very scary audience. That always calms me down. Sort of."
The lawyer meets us inside. A sharp dressed woman named Elena who shakes my hand firmly and walks me through the basics.
What to say. What not to say. How to stay calm.
Her voice is professional and reassuring but my stomach still twists itself into nervous pretzels.
I keep stealing glances at Jax standing like a mountain behind me.
Solid. Unmoving. The only thing keeping me from bolting back to the cabin and my fuzzy socks.
Then the rest of the team arrives. Five more US Marshals who look like they stepped out of a calendar titled Hot Protectors of Montana.
They introduce themselves. Mason with his gray eyes and battle hardened presence.
Brock with a low laugh that somehow eases the tension in the room.
Kane is dark and intense. Colt’s all gravelly voice and quiet strength.
Ryker’s calm and watchful like he sees everything at once.
They’re all ridiculously good looking. Tall.
Built. The kind of men who could star in my secret late night reads.
But none of them come close to Jax. Not even a little.
His presence fills the hallway in a way that makes my breath catch every single time our eyes meet.
They surround me in a protective circle and it actually helps. A little.
"You’re doing the right thing, Ava," Mason says. His voice is steady and commanding. "We’ve got your back out here. Jax has you in there."
Brock gives me a quick grin. "Hector’s going down today because of you. Take a breath. You’re tougher than you think."
Kane nods once. "Stay focused. We’ll handle anything outside these walls."
Colt and Ryker add their own quiet encouragement.
Their words wrap around me like an extra layer of armor.
These men are the real deal. Growly. Capable.
The kind of team that makes a girl feel like maybe the good guys really can win.
But even with all of them here the fear still claws at my chest. I’m still just me.
Ava Simpson. Book nerd. Accidental witness.
They make me feel braver. But I’m still terrified.
The courtroom doors open and we file in.
My eyes lock onto Hector Carlos the second I spot him at the defense table.
He sits there in a sharp suit that does nothing to hide the monster underneath.
Cold dark eyes meet mine across the room and a slow cruel smile curves his lips.
Ice floods my veins. He looks at me like I’m already dead.
Like I’m nothing but a loose end to snip.
My knees wobble and I nearly drop the little notepad the lawyer gave me.
Jax is right there. His hand finds mine and squeezes once.
Strong. Reassuring. “You’re okay,” he whispers.
That baritone voice anchors me. I focus on him instead.
On the way his jaw flexes with protective tension.
On the determination in his eyes that promises he’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt me.
I take the stand. My palms sweat. My voice shakes at first as I swear to tell the truth.
But every time the questions get hard I look straight at Jax.
He sits near the front where I can see him.
His gaze never leaves mine. It feels like a warm blanket in the middle of a blizzard.
Like safety and heat and something deeper that makes my heart flutter even now.
I describe what I saw in that parking garage.
The exchange. The violence. Hector's face. My words come out steadier than I expect because Jax is right there. Making me feel safe. Making me feel seen. Like I’m not alone in this scary chapter.
The cross examination tries to rattle me but I keep my eyes on my marshal. On the man who carried me through bullets and taught me to fight and named wildflowers just to distract me from my fear. I get through it. Barely. When the judge dismisses me I nearly sag with relief.
Jax is at my side the second I step down. His arm comes around me as we move with the team toward the exit. The hallway feels too bright. Too open. Voices echo around us and my nerves stay stretched tight.
We push through the main doors into the crisp morning air. Snow still dusts the steps. I draw in a deep breath and start to say something silly about how I deserve a victory waffle after that when the first shot cracks through the air.
It shatters the quiet like thunder. Painful and sharp. People scream. Another shot follows. Then another. Bullets ping off the stone steps near my feet.
Jax moves like lightning. He leaps in front of me.
His big body shields mine completely as he tackles me down behind a concrete planter.
The impact jars me but his arms are there.
Strong. Protective. Wrapping around me like iron bands.
"Stay down," he growls against my ear. His voice is pure steel-edged command, laced with savage territorial claim. "They’re not getting near you."
More gunfire erupts. The team shouts orders. Mason and the others return fire. Bullets whine past us. Jax keeps me tucked beneath him. His weight is heavy but perfect. His heart pounds hard against my back. His muscles tense like a coiled spring ready to strike.
He fires back with his free hand. Precise. Controlled. Each shot from his weapon makes me flinch but also fills me with awe. This is my marshal. My protector. Risking everything for me.
"We move now," he barks to the team. He hauls me up against his chest without effort.
One arm under my knees. The other supporting my back.
I bury my face in his neck as he runs. Bullets chase us.
Glass shatters somewhere behind us. His boots pound the pavement.
His body absorbs every jolt to keep me safe.
The SUV is close. He yanks the door open and practically throws me inside before diving in after me.
The engine roars to life. Tires screech as we peel away from the courthouse.
More shots hit the back of the vehicle but Jax keeps driving hard.
His jaw is locked. His hands grip the wheel with white knuckles.
One hand reaches over to squeeze my thigh.
It’s reassuring. "You’re okay, Ava. Breathe. I won’t let them touch you."
I’m shaking. Tears sting my eyes but I nod and cling to his arm. "You saved me. Again. You always save me." My voice comes out small and breathy. "I think I owe you so many waffles after this. And maybe a lifetime supply of chamomile tea."
He glances over. Those intense eyes soften for me even as danger chases us down the mountain road. Heat simmers between us. Thick. Electric. His hand stays on my thigh like he can’t bear to let go. "You did good in there. So damn good. Now we get you back to safety. Where I can keep you close."
The team covers our exit. Sirens wail in the distance. But all I can focus on is Jax. The way he put himself between me and the bullets. The way his touch brands me with safety and something much hotter. My heart races for an entirely different reason now.