Chapter 2 Xaden #14
Because sure, why not, sign an autograph, save the town, survive an evil sheriff, and also figure out whether it’s possible to properly make out with an agent while your kid sleeps down the hall.
Then the conversation shifts. Timelines. Contingencies. Worst-case scenarios. It all blurs together, my mind still replaying Xaden’s hand on my jaw, his breath hitching when I kissed him first this time.
But I snap back when Keller says: “One last thing. Keith Blackwood. We need bait.”
His gaze lands squarely on me.
My chest tightens, but before I can think, the words are out: “I can do it.” At the exact same second, Xaden growls, “Over my dead body.”
The two answers clash in the air. Kate’s brows twitch up. Keller doesn’t even blink.
Xaden’s radiating fury beside me, his thigh rigid where it presses against mine. My pulse is hammering, but my chin tips higher.
“It makes sense. If it gets you closer to ending this, I want to help. Or do you think I can’t handle it?”
I cross my arms to hide the way my fingers are trembling.
Upstairs, I wasn’t trembling.
Upstairs, I was bold enough to grind against him on the bed and kiss him until he was the breathless one.
The memory of it steadies me now.
“Well played,” Kate murmurs. Xaden shoots her a glare sharp enough to slice steel. Then he looks at me.
“It’s not about handling it,” he snaps, voice low and furious. “It’s about me not wanting you in danger.”
The heat of his anger only fans the embers still smoldering in my chest. “As opposed to me rejoicing that you put your life at risk every single day?” I challenge.
His jaw works, eyes flashing. For once, I don’t blush under the weight of that stare.
Finally he bites out: “I’m not a dad. But you are.”
The words land like a body blow. Noah upstairs, cheeks pink with sleep, Dinosaur the Dog tucked under his arm. Noah, who trusts me to keep him safe.
And here I am, offering myself up as bait to a monster. But the thing is, if I don’t stand up now, if I keep hiding while Xaden shoulders everything — what does that make me?
Silence stretches. Even Keller looks unsettled. Finally, he clears his throat. “We’ll table the decision until tomorrow. But if Keith takes the bait, there’s no pulling back.”
Xaden mutters something that’s not worth repeating.
My heart’s still pounding.
My hand moves almost of its own accord, brushing his knee under the table. Just enough for him to feel it. Just enough to remind him I’m here. That I’m choosing this.
His eyes flick down, then back to me, dark and burning.
For a moment, I swear the whole room fades away. The laptop screen, Kate’s steady gaze, Keller’s voice.
It’s just me and Xaden, the ghost of his mouth still on mine, the warmth of his thigh under my palm.
We are together in this.
XADEN
Rusted trucks loom like silent witnesses when I kill the engine and step out to the same gravel yard they used for Mike. Guess they think it’s poetic justice.
I feel oddly calm considering what’s at stake. JJ paces like a rabid dog, Ronnie flicks his knife open and shut, eyes hungry like he’s already peeling me open.
“I wouldn’t swagger like that if I was a dead man walkin’,” he barks, laughing at his own joke.
Big Sam sits back in a folding chair, arms crossed, marble eyes cold. I wonder if he keeps that chair in his trunk just to enjoy blood in comfort.
Keith’s nowhere to be seen. My pulse quickens when I picture him lurking close to Cole’s house, making sure he’s alone and helpless.
I opposed the Cole-as-bait idea to the very end, but he was determined. And of course the call was always his to make, not mine.
“You really came alone,” Sam chuckles. “Dumber than I thought.”
“The invite didn’t say plus one.”
JJ lunges and buries a fist in my gut. Pain explodes hot, but I stay standing. “I vouched for you,” he hisses. “You’re dead.”
“Aw,” I rasp. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
Ronnie steps forward, knife gleaming. Sam raises a hand. “Not yet. He’s got information.”
JJ snorts. “A hard-on for his blondie is what he has.”
Ronnie grins. He presses the blade just under my eye, then draws it down my cheek slow enough to savor the blood.
“I will take your fuckin’ face apart. Leave just enough for Hudson to recognize you.”
“You leave Cole the fuck alone,” I growl through the pain. “That was the deal.”
JJ smirks. “Between you and Sam, maybe. I ain’t made no deals. By the way, why did we have to hear from Willard that you and your blondie used to be a thing? I gotta admit, that stung a little.”
Ronnie tilts his head, eyes bright with cruelty. “I almost forgot. Keith’s got himself a loyalty bonus. He’s over there enjoyin’ it as we speak. Lucky for us, he knows how to share. He said we could all enjoy a piece of his pie later. Y’know the pie I mean? I bet it’s real fuckin’ yummy.”
“Blueberry?” I shoot back, reckless. JJ’s fist smashes my face before I finish the word. Blood fills my mouth. I stagger backwards as the punches keep coming. I could beat JJ, knock him out if I wanted to, but I don’t have time for that now. I’m waiting for the VIP of the evening to show up.
Right on cue, I hear his heavy footsteps.
Sheriff Willard strolls out of the dark like he’s crashing a barbecue. Jeans. Windbreaker. That smug face I want to break. Will break.
“Oh no,” he says with mock concern, “what happened to your pretty face?” He tilts his head. “You really are your father’s son,” he drawls. “Couldn’t mind his business either.”
My fists clench.
“You know the thing about your dad?” His voice goes almost pleasant.
“He thought honesty would keep him safe. He poked where he shouldn’t.
Even when I had my hand on the jack, he didn’t get it.
I told him how he was going to die. Said I was sorry — sorry for the inconvenience. The look on his face? Priceless.”
They all chuckle.
Dad’s voice rings in my head: Right and wrong, son. Clear as day.
It’s showtime. Impossibly bright lights emerge from the tree line as agents fill the yard, weapons raised, shouting orders.
Willard blinks, caught between fight and flight.
I wink at him, savoring the pain and the blood on my face. I give myself a second to enjoy the disbelief in his eyes and then I smash my fist into his face. The face of the man who murdered my dad. The crack is sharp, perfect. His yelp’s even better.
Keller steps out, badge glinting.
“Hugh Willard, you’re under arrest for obstruction, trafficking in stolen military property, extortion, conspiracy to commit murder against Special Agent Xaden Bailey, and—” Keller pauses for effect: “For the murder of Eli Bailey.”
Willard spits blood. “That case was buried years ago.”
“It was,” I say, giving him a level look. “I dug it up.”
“You played me,” he rasps.
“Yes. And the look on your face now? Priceless.”
COLE
Noah’s at my parents’ for a movie night. They’ve probably got him in matching pajamas, eating hand-picked delicacies while Dad pretends to follow The Smurfs.
I’m home, alone. Wink, wink.
Upstairs, Kate waits in the shadows like an assassin. Frankie’s hiding in the backyard with an honest-to-god rifle. That wasn’t an SBI plan. That was a Xaden and Frankie plan.
I sit at the kitchen table, trying to look natural, which is surprisingly hard when your brain is screaming RUN.
My tea is untouched. My stomach is anxiety soup. I consider getting my guitar — maybe I could play something jolly to hide the sound of my pulse pounding. I haven’t even tried to convince anyone I’m not scared witless because I wouldn’t have fooled anyone.
But still, I insisted on doing this and I’m not regretting it.
Sure, it’s not every day that a violent ex-con is sneaking into my house, wanting ‘a piece of me’. Which sounds more like a serial killer piece than a pastry shop bite.
Just saying.
That’s when I hear a creak. Adrenaline rushes into my blood with a record-breaking speed as I watch, genuinely terrified, how the back door eases open.
A shadow fills the doorway.
Keith Blackwood is huge. And ugly, in the way meanness just… clings to him. He’s wearing evil like it’s a cape.
“Who are you?” I croak. The fear in my voice is real. “I don’t have anything valuable.”
“Don’t be modest,” he drawls. “You look valuable enough, like a little treat.”
I grip my mug as if owning kitchenware will keep me safe. “I’ll call the cops.”
Keith laughs, stepping closer. “If you’re talkin’ about your ex-boyfriend Xaden Bailey, the goddamn pig, I got bad news for you.
He’s pissed off the wrong people. So right about now—” Keith gives me a menacing grin, “JJ’s breakin’ his fingers.
Ronnie’s makin’ him bleed. Big Sam and Willard? Just happy to watch him die.”
Breaking fingers? I start to panic when I think about his warm, gentle hands. And how much blood can you lose before—
I force the thoughts down. Xaden will be okay.
He promised me.
“Willard?” I ask, feigning shock. “But he’s the town sheriff!”
“He is. He just swings both ways,” Keith laughs. “In and out of law.” He tilts his head, eyes crawling over me. “Y’know, I think I’m gonna try out that sweet little mouth now.”
I shoot to my feet. Keith blocks me, delighted to tower over me. He leers.
“So you’re tall, congratulations. Should I clap?” I ask, feigning boredom. His grin falters, just for a second, before it gets even uglier.
“You think your ex’s comin’ to save you? He’s not. It’s just you and me, Goldilocks.”
“Actually—” Kate’s voice, calm and cold, comes from behind him. “Hands where I can see them.”
Frankie’s voice follows from the back door, flat and deadly. “She means it. As do I.”
Keith freezes.
“On your knees.”
“You got nothin’ on me,” Keith sneers, but the panic is already evident on his scarred face.
Kate just smiles. “Oh, we’ve got plenty. Your friends will love hearing we’ve got all your ramblings and threats on tape.”
Keith’s eyes flick between Kate and Frankie. “But Sam promised—”
“Don’t care,” Kate cuts him off. Finally, he kneels.
Cuffs click.