Chapter 13 – Madeline
I paced the length of the guest room, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet with every step. The space was simple but refined, much like the rest of Jaxon’s apartment.
The bed, perfectly made with crisp, white sheets, dominated one side of the room. A small desk and chair sat against the opposite wall, next to a sleek wardrobe that looked like it had never been used.
Everything about this place felt safe, secure. Even the heavy locks on the front door and the state-of-the-art security system made it clear Jaxon had thought of everything.
I let out a slow breath, grateful that, at least for now, I didn’t have to worry about someone slipping a note under my door or cornering me in the street.
I rubbed my hands over my arms, the memory of the masked man sending a shiver down my spine. It had been over a fortnight since that incident, but the fear lingered, sharp and insistent.
I couldn’t believe I’d let it get this far. What had started as an investigation had turned into something far more dangerous, and for the first time, I was beginning to question whether I’d bitten off more than I could chew.
I couldn’t let fear stop me. Not when I was so close to uncovering the truth.
My gaze landed on the phone sitting on the nightstand. I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t Jaxon — someone who didn’t make me feel like I was being dissected every time I spoke. Someone who might understand, even if they didn’t like what I was doing.
I stared at my phone for a long moment before finally dialling Quinn’s number. My thumb hovered over the screen, second- guessing myself for the hundredth time, but I pressed call anyway.
The phone rang a few times before she picked up, her voice bright and a little too cheerful.
“Mads! Finally. You doing okay, sweet girl?”
“Hey, Quinn,” I said, sinking onto the bed. “You sound… peppy.”
“Peppy?” she repeated with a laugh. “I just got home. Had a couple of drinks after you guys left to do… whatever it is you left to do! So, yeah, maybe I’m a little buzzed, but not enough to miss you sounding all doom and gloom. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you conveniently left out some details, babydoll!”
Her tone was playful, but there was a sharp edge beneath it, the kind that said she wasn’t letting me off the hook.
I sighed, pacing the room as her words settled over me. “Quinn, I didn’t leave out details. I just… wasn’t ready to talk about everything yet.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, the scepticism dripping from her tone. “So what’s the deal now? You’re ready to spill? Because if I’m remembering correctly, the last time we talked, you told me it was no big deal. Just a creep. No drama. And yet, here we are.”
“Things escalated,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “More than I expected them to.”
There was a pause on the line, and I could practically hear her squinting at me through the phone. “Escalated how?”
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the inevitable reaction. “There were… notes. Two of them. Threats. Telling me to stop digging.”
Silence.
“Quinn?”
“You’re kidding,” she said, her voice quiet, low in a way that felt almost dangerous.
“I’m not,” I said quickly. “And before you start yelling—”
“Oh, I’m past yelling, Madeline Hart,” she snapped. “I’m in full-on ‘what the fuck were you thinking not telling me this sooner’ mode.”
“I didn’t want to worry you!” I protested.
“Worry me? Worry me?” she repeated, her voice climbing. “Babe, you’re getting threats, and you didn’t think I’d want to know about it? You’re my friend. Sure, a new friend, but that’s hardly the point! You don’t just brush this off like it’s nothing! You’re a young woman in a huge city that’s glamorous, yes, but for all the wonderful people in this town, there’s bad ones too!”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern weaving through her tone. We hadn’t known each other long, a few weeks maybe, but there was a pull between us — something that made her more than just a casual acquaintance. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I felt it all the same.
Quinn had this way of getting under my skin in the best possible way. She’d breezed into my life with her sparkling personality and sharp wit, and before I knew it, I’d been drawn in.
Maybe it was her ability to make me laugh even when things felt impossibly heavy, or maybe it was the way she could switch from playful to protective in the blink of an eye, like she actually cared, despite how new and fragile our friendship was.
I’d always struggled to connect with people, to let them in. But with Quinn, it was different. Effortless . Like she’d just decided one day that we were going to be friends, and I hadn’t been given a choice in the matter.
“I wasn’t trying to brush anything off,” I said defensively. “I just… didn’t know what to do. And then Jaxon found one of the notes, and—”
“Wait,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “You’re telling me Jackie knows all of this before I did ?”
Her indignation was so sharp it almost made me laugh, despite the situation. “Quinn—”
“No, no, no,” she cut me off, clearly on a roll. “Let me get this straight. The walking grump factory with biceps for days and a permanent scowl knows about the threats before I, your actual friend , do?!”
“I wasn’t exactly planning for him to find out,” I said, cringing slightly. “He kind of… stumbled on it.”
She let out a dramatic gasp. “Stumbled on it? Oh, sure, because that’s a thing people casually stumble on . Notes with threats. Totally normal.”
“It’s not like I wanted him involved,” I tried again.
“Of course not,” she huffed. “But now he’s involved, isn’t he? What, is he playing your bodyguard now? Keeping you locked up in that fancy apartment of his? Actually, wait, is he?”
“Yes,” I admitted, cringing slightly. “He found the second note at the club. Found it in my bra, actually… and before you freak out, no, it wasn’t like that .”
Quinn gasped so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “In your bra?! MADELINE! You don’t just casually drop a bomb like that! Explain. Now.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I said quickly, my cheeks heating. “He caught me trying to hide it, and… well, he wasn’t going to let it go. So, yeah, he got the note.”
“Oh my God,” she said, clearly relishing every second of this.
“He fished it out of my bra like it was the most natural thing in the world,” I muttered, my cheeks burning. “Didn’t even blink — just reached in and grabbed the note.”
Quinn let out a dramatic gasp on the other end of the line, loud enough to make me wince. “Oh. My. God. Did he at least buy you dinner first?!”
I groaned, pressing the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Quinn.”
“ What ?” she fired back, her voice dripping with giddy disbelief. “Maddie, the man went treasure hunting in your cleavage . That’s basically second base!”
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see it. “He wasn’t treasure hunting . He was confiscating evidence.”
Quinn snorted. “Oh, sure. Evidence. Is that what they’re calling it these days? Tell me, Madeline, did he give you a receipt for the confiscated evidence ?”
“Quinn!”
“I’m just saying, if he’s going to start doing side quests in your bra, he could at least offer to buy you a drink first!”
She was quiet for a moment, and then her voice came back, sharp and knowing. “So, he insisted you stay there? Let me guess — he grumbled a lot, looked all broody, and then growled something about keeping you safe?”
“Quinn…” I said, my cheeks heating.
“What? Am I wrong?” she teased, though there was still a layer of concern in her tone.
“Not exactly,” I mumbled.
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a sigh. “Well, at least you’re not at that death trap of an apartment anymore. From the sounds of the place, you really needed out of there anyways! But seriously - you have to be careful. Whoever’s doing this isn’t playing around. What do they even mean anyways? What do they think you’re even doing? Why would they come for you like this? This officially makes zero sense!”
There was a pause, a heavy silence on the line that made my stomach twist. I knew what I had to say next, but the words felt like they were caught in my throat.
“Okay… there’s something else.”
Her tone sharpened instantly. “What? What now?”
I took a deep breath, pacing again as I tried to get the words out. “I’m a journalist.”
The silence this time was deafening.
“Quinn?” I prompted after a moment, my voice tentative.
“You’re a what? ” she asked, the disbelief clear in her voice.
“A journalist,” I repeated, wincing at how small the word sounded. “That’s why I’ve been… around so much. I’ve been investigating the club scene in Vegas. And V is… a big part of it.”
“Oh my God,” she said, her tone flat and completely devoid of her usual playfulness. “You’re telling me this now ?”
“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” I admitted, my chest tightening. “It wasn’t supposed to matter. I didn’t plan to get close to anyone. It just… happened.”
“It just happened ?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Mads, do you have any idea how this looks? You’ve been hanging out with me, making friends, and the whole time, you’re just… what? Taking notes?”
“No!” I said quickly, my voice cracking. “It’s not like that. I swear. I didn’t come to V looking for you, or for anyone. I was just doing my job, and then you…” I trailed off, running a hand through my hair. “You’re my friend. That’s real. I didn’t plan it, but it is.”
The line was quiet for a moment before she let out a long breath. When Quinn finally spoke, her voice was softer, but it still carried that sharp edge. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“Because I didn’t think it would matter,” I said honestly, gripping the phone tighter. “Then I met you, and you were… you.”
“Me?” she echoed, her tone laced with both curiosity and scepticism. I could almost picture the way her brow would furrow, that telltale sign that she wasn’t about to let this slide.
“Yeah, you,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath. “You’re kind, and good, and you wanted to spend time with me. Me. The girl with the baggage.”
I hesitated, swallowing hard as the words tumbled out. “I have so much of it, Q. You don’t know the half of it because I came to this city wanting a fresh start. To leave all of that crap behind. And then you show up, and you’re just — this force of nature. You didn’t treat me like a wounded animal or someone you had to fix. With you, it was different.”
The silence stretched between us, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. “You made me feel like I could just… be,” I continued, my voice softer now. “Like I wasn’t defined by all the stuff I’m carrying.”
For a moment, I thought she might hang up, but then I heard her let out a soft laugh, tinged with both disbelief and affection. “You’re such a drama queen, you know that?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You,” she said, her tone warm but teasing. “You act like I’m some kind of saint for treating you like a person . Newsflash, Maddie: you’re not as broken as you think you are.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off, her voice taking on that no-nonsense edge that only Quinn could pull off. “Yeah, okay. You’ve got baggage. Who doesn’t? And if you want to share that with me in more detail sometime, babe, I’m your girl. But, Mads, you’re also smart, and funny, and yeah, maybe a little stubborn, but I like that about you. So, stop beating yourself up for something that’s not even a flaw.”
There was a pause, and I could hear the faint creak of her shifting in her chair on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, more thoughtful. “You should’ve told me… and I understand why you didn’t, but still… you should’ve said something.”
“I know,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping as I gripped the phone tighter. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
She sighed again, but this time it wasn’t sharp or frustrated — it was the kind of sigh that carried forgiveness, even if it wasn’t fully spoken yet. “Okay. I’m still mad, but… I get it. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re an idiot for diving headfirst into this mess, but you’re my idiot now.”
A laugh bubbled up unexpectedly, catching me off guard. It wasn’t much, but I clung to it like a lifeline. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”
“Don’t get all mushy on me,” she said quickly, but her teasing tone couldn’t mask the concern underneath. “It’s not cute, and if you make me snot-cry, I swear I’ll block your number for at least 24 hours.”
Despite myself, I laughed again, the sound lighter this time. “I’ll try to keep it together. No promises, though.”
“Good,” she said, a smile creeping into her voice. “But seriously. No more secrets. You’re in deep enough as it is.”
“Deal,” I said, meaning it.
“Okay,” she said firmly. “Now, go figure out whatever it is you’re going to do next, and for God’s sake, keep me in the loop this time. Oh, and while you’re at it, maybe enjoy the company of your hunky, hunky new bodyguard.”
“Quinn,” I groaned, already feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I mean, if someone like Jax Brooks insisted I stay with him, I wouldn’t be complaining. In fact, I’d be strategically dropping things and asking him to pick them up for me.”
“Stop,” I said, though I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.
She giggled, clearly enjoying herself. “All I’m saying is, if the man is going to growl and glower his way through this, you might as well take a moment to appreciate the view. For … science?”
“Goodnight, Quinn,” I said, shaking my head.
“Fine, fine,” she relented, though I could hear the grin in her voice. “But don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Sweet dreams, gorgeous girl — and maybe share a few with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody.”
“Goodnight!” I said again, louder this time, before ending the call.
I set the phone down, shaking my head as a faint smile tugged at my lips. Leave it to Quinn to find humour in even the messiest situations. Still, her words lingered in the back of my mind, uninvited but impossible to ignore.
Because as much as I hated to admit it, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
I leaned back against the bed, letting my gaze wander around the room. It was a far cry from my own tiny apartment. The clean lines, soft lighting, and expensive furniture made it feel more like a luxury hotel than a guest room. There was a calmness to the space, an understated elegance that reflected the man who owned it—practical, meticulous, and just a little intimidating.
The bed was bigger than my own, with a comforter that looked as soft as a cloud. A desk sat against the far wall, perfectly organized, with a small lamp casting a warm glow. Even the closet was spacious, with room for more than just the hastily packed bag I’d brought with me.
It felt safe. Secure.
I crossed the room, running my fingers over the edge of the desk. The smooth wood was cool under my touch, grounding me as I let out a slow breath. This was temporary, I reminded myself. Just until I figured out what to do next.
But even as I told myself that, I couldn’t deny the relief I felt being here. The locks on the doors, the security of the building, the knowledge that Jaxon was just down the hall — it all made me feel more protected than I had in days.
Still, the situation was surreal. Just a few weeks ago, I’d been chasing a story, confident in my ability to handle whatever came my way. Now I was standing in the guest room of a man who looked like he’d been carved from stone, forced to accept help because the danger had become too real to ignore.
My fingers grazed the edge of the bed as I sat down, staring at the floor. The truth was, I didn’t feel like myself anymore. The fear, the uncertainty—it was starting to chip away at the confidence I’d always relied on.
And yet, there was a small part of me that felt… comforted. Not just by the safety of the apartment, but by Jaxon himself. His presence was steady, grounding, even if he was gruff and frustrating as hell.
Quinn’s words replayed in my mind, her teasing tone impossible to forget.
“Sweet dreams, gorgeous girl—and maybe share a few with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody.”
I rolled my eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. She didn’t know how close to the truth she was. Because as much as I tried to fight it, Jaxon had a way of creeping into my thoughts, uninvited and unrelenting.
Even earlier, during the drive over, he’d managed to get to me without even trying. The way his forearms flexed against the steering wheel, the slight clench of his jaw when he thought I wasn’t watching—it all had my mind wandering to places it shouldn’t.
I’d been squirming in my seat, desperate for some kind of relief, all because of the heat he stirred in me. Every shift of my hips had been an attempt to soothe the ache between my thighs, but it only made things worse. The dampness in my panties was a constant reminder of just how much he affected me, no matter how much I tried to deny it.
He hadn’t said much during the drive, but his presence alone was enough to keep me on edge. Every glance, every slight adjustment he made, felt like it was meant to tease me, even though I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. At least, I didn’t think he was.
Now, sitting in his guest room, I couldn’t help but replay it all in my mind. The way his voice rumbled when he spoke, the quiet authority in every word—it was enough to make me want to press my thighs together just thinking about it.
I groaned, throwing myself back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. “For fucks sake, Maddie,” I muttered to myself.
Even as I said it, the heat lingered, a slow burn I couldn’t seem to shake. Quinn’s teasing words replayed in my mind again, and for the first time, I let myself admit the truth: Jaxon Brooks had me completely and utterly tangled up.
I had no idea how to unravel myself.
The thought of him being mere meters away was almost too much to bear. His apartment was quiet now, the weight of the day settling into the stillness, but knowing he was just down the hall, so close yet so unattainable, sent a shiver through me.
Nestling deeper into the pillows and the impossibly soft duvet, I let my mind relax, if only for a moment. But as much as I tried to think about anything else, my thoughts always drifted back to him.
A spark of heat ignited low in my belly, spreading like wildfire.The way he’d stood so close when he had found the letter and had taken it from my bra, the tension in the air between us thick enough to cut — it all felt so vivid, so charged, like an electric current that hadn’t quite dissipated.
I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding as I stared up at the ceiling. But the ache was there, insistent and impossible to ignore. Slowly, I let my hand drift lower, the duvet shifting slightly as I surrendered to the thoughts I’d been trying so hard to push away.
My fingers brushed over the lace of my panties, the damp fabric a testament to just how tightly I’d been wound all evening. The thought of Jaxon — his presence, his intensity, the way he looked at me like I was both a puzzle and a problem — flashed through my mind, making my breath hitch.
My hand rubbed gently at my entrance, glistening beneath the fabric, and I bit my lip, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through my body. I closed my eyes, letting the tension in my shoulders melt away as I focused on the growing pleasure.
I could almost feel him there — his rough hands, the weight of his gaze, the low timbre of his voice murmuring my name. The image of him leaning over me, his lips hovering just above my skin, made my pulse race faster.
The lace was quickly becoming a barrier I couldn’t bear. I slid it aside, my fingers meeting slick heat as I began to stroke myself, slow and tentative at first but with growing confidence. A soft moan escaped my lips, the sound muffled by the quiet of the room but loud enough to make my cheeks burn.
The thought of him being so close, just down the hall, only fuelled the fire. I imagined his hands replacing mine, the roughness of his fingertips against my soft skin. The tension that had been simmering between us since the moment we met surged to the forefront of my mind, every charged glance spilling over into this moment.
I arched into my touch, my breaths coming quicker as the pressure built inside me. My body moved of its own accord, chasing the release that had been denied for far too long. The image of Jaxon’s lips brushing against my ear, his voice low and commanding, pushed me closer to the edge.
The heat of his imagined presence surrounded me — his broad shoulders casting shadows over me as he leaned in closer. My fingers moved faster, more insistent, as if they could mimic the strength and certainty of his touch. My thighs trembled, and my back arched against the mattress, lost in the vision of him.
Every interaction between us played like a reel in my mind: the way his dark eyes had locked onto mine with unwavering intensity, the tick of his jaw when I’d challenged him, the faint rasp in his voice when he called me Scout.
It wasn’t just the way he looked or sounded — it was the way he made me feel, like I was teetering on the edge of control, just waiting for him to push me over.
I moaned softly, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the room but potent enough to echo in my ears. My fingers circled my clit, the wet heat building until I felt like I might shatter. Every stroke was fuelled by the thought of his strong hands pinning me in place, his lips teasing against my neck, his voice rumbling with a mix of frustration and desire.
I reached up to palm my breast, the fabric of my top brushing against my fingers as I cupped it, adding to the sensation. My nipple, already hard, peaked against my touch, and I rolled it between my fingers, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through my body. The dual sensations, my hand teasing my breast and the other moving against the heat below, only drove me closer to the edge.
My mind conjured images of him — his broad shoulders caging me in, his hands rough yet careful as they explored every inch of my body. I could almost hear his voice in my ear, that low growl dripping with command as he whispered my name. Madeline. The way he’d say it, deliberate and heavy, like he was staking some kind of claim, sent shivers down my spine.
My hips lifted off the mattress, chasing the friction as my fingers moved faster, more insistent. I tugged at my nipple, the sharpness of the sensation blending with the pulsing heat between my thighs, and I moaned again, louder this time. The imagined weight of his body over mine, the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the intensity in his dark eyes — it all coalesced into a wildfire of need that I couldn’t contain.
I breathed his name, the sound of it on my tongue slipping past my lips like a prayer, and the sound alone was enough to tip me over the edge. My body tightened, waves of pleasure crashing through me as I cried out softly, the release washing away the tension that had been building all night.
I lay there, trembling, my chest rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. My hand fell to my side, the dampness on my fingers a reminder of just how deeply he’d worked his way into my thoughts.
My mind was still buzzing, replaying every stolen glance, every sharp word between us, every moment that hinted at something unspoken but undeniable.
The quiet of the room settled around me again, but it was anything but peaceful. Jaxon wasn’t just a thought; he was an ache, a pull I couldn’t resist, no matter how hard I tried. I pressed my fingers to my lips, as though to silence the truths I didn’t want to admit.
Whatever this was — this tension, this need — it wasn’t going away. And that terrified me as much as it thrilled me.