Chapter 2
TWO
JAX CARTER
I can't stop thinking about her. That's the problem. I'm standing at the bar in Perdition, nursing a whiskey I don't really want, watching the door like some lovesick idiot. She's already inside. Somewhere in the backrooms. With her kid. Safe.
Lucy and Tessa brought her back here hours ago, got her settled, made sure she had everything she needed. Knox checked the locks on her door twice, I watched him test the deadbolt, check the window latch, scan the hallway like he was expecting an army to come through. We're both fucked.
"You gonna drink that or just stare at it all night?" Steele's voice cuts through my thoughts. He's leaning against the bar next to me, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place. He's got that look, the one that says he knows exactly what's going on in my head and he's going to give me shit about it.
"Fuck off," I mutter, taking a sip just to prove I can.
"That's what I thought." He laughs, low and rough. "You've been standing here for twenty minutes, man. Just staring at that door."
"She's got a kid," I say flatly. "She's not walking out here."
"Exactly." Steele claps me on the shoulder. "So why are you standing here like a guard dog?"
I don't have an answer for that. Or maybe I do, but I'm not ready to say it out loud.
Knox appears at my other side, silent as always. He doesn't say anything, just stands there with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the same door I've been watching. We're a matched set tonight.
"Jesus Christ," Cole says from across the bar. He's pouring himself a beer, shaking his head like we're the saddest thing he's ever seen. "You two look like someone kicked your dog."
"Shut up, Cole," Knox growls.
"Nah, man. This is too good." Cole grins, wide and shit-eating. "The Carter brothers. Legendary playboys. Can't keep a woman longer than a weekend. And now you're both standing here like someone just handed you the meaning of life wrapped up in a bruised, terrified package."
"She's not a package," I snap.
"Oh, he's defensive." Tessa appears out of nowhere, sliding onto a barstool with a glass of wine in hand. She's got that manic energy she always has after a rescue mission. "This is gonna be fun."
"Tessa," I warn.
"What? I'm just saying." She takes a sip, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You two have been circling that backroom like sharks since we got back."
"We're not circling," Knox mutters.
"You really are," Lucy adds, appearing next to Tessa. She's softer, gentler, but there's a knowing look in her eyes. "She's sweet. And scared. And she needs people who aren't going to push her."
"We're not pushing," I say.
"Yet," Tessa adds with a grin.
I glare at her. She just laughs.
"Look," Lucy says, her voice dropping into that calm, nurse-mode tone she uses when she's trying to talk sense into someone.
"She's been through hell. You saw the bruises.
You saw the way she flinched when you got too close.
Whatever she's running from, it's bad. So if you two are serious about this—"
“We are," Knox says. His voice is flat, final. No room for argument.
Lucy nods. “Then you need to be patient. She's not going to trust you overnight.”
"We know," I say.
"Do you?" Tessa leans forward, her expression sharpening.
"Because I've seen you two operate, Jax.
You're the smooth talker. You charm your way into a woman's bed and then you're gone by morning.
Knox is the quiet one who fucks hard and disappears.
So what makes you think you can do it now?
She doesn't need two assholes making it worse. "
Her words hit harder than I expect. Because she's right. I don't do commitment. I don't do relationships. I do fun. I do easy. I do women who know the score and don't expect more than a good time.
But Ainsley…
The second I saw her gripping that tire iron, something shifted inside me. I don't have a better word for it. My chest tightened. My hands itched to touch her, to pull her close, to tell her she didn't have to be scared anymore.
"I don't know," I admit quietly. "But I'm not walking away."
Knox grunts in agreement.
Tessa studies us for a long moment, then nods. "Good. Because if you hurt her, I'll cut your dicks off and feed them to the dogs."
"Noted," I say dryly.
She points at me with her wine glass. "I'm serious."
"We're not going to hurt her," Knox says.
Tessa takes another sip, then stands. "Come on, Lucy. Let's go check on her."
Lucy follows, and the two of them disappear down the hallway toward the backrooms.
The second they're gone, Steele lets out a low whistle. "Man, you two are in deep."
"Shut up," I mutter.
"Seriously though," Cole says, leaning against the bar. "What's the plan? You gonna share her?"
The question hangs in the air for a second. It's not the first time Knox and I have shared a woman. We've done it before, plenty of times. It's easy. Fun. No strings, no complications.
But this…
This feels different.
"Yeah," I say finally. "If she'll have us."
Knox nods. "Both of us. Or neither."
Cole raises his eyebrows. "Damn. You two really are serious."
"We are," I say.
"Well, good luck with that." He raises his beer in a mock toast. "You're gonna need it."
An hour later, Tiny pulls me aside.
"Got something," he says, jerking his head toward the back office.
I follow him, Knox right behind me. Inside, Riot is sitting at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard. He doesn't look up when we walk in.
"What'd you find?" I ask.
"Justin Williams," Riot says, pulling up a file on the screen. "Cop. Thirty-two years old. Works out of a precinct about two hours south of here. Clean record. No complaints. No red flags."
"Bullshit," Knox growls.
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Riot clicks through a few more screens. "So I dug deeper. Found a sealed report from about six months ago. Domestic disturbance call. Neighbor reported screaming. When the cops showed up, Ainsley told them she fell down the stairs."
My jaw tightens. "She didn't fall."
"No, she didn't." Riot pulls up a photo. It's a police report, and even though most of it is redacted, I can see enough. Bruises on her arms. A black eye. A split lip.
"Jesus," I mutter.
"It gets worse," Riot says. "The responding officer? One of Justin's buddies. He wrote it up as an accident and closed the case. No follow-up. No investigation."
"Of course not," Knox says, his voice cold. "He's a cop. They protect their own."
"Exactly." Riot leans back in his chair. "This guy is dangerous. He's got a badge, connections, and people willing to look the other way. If he's looking for her, he's not going to stop."
"Then we make sure he doesn't find her," I say.
"Agreed." Riot closes the file. "I'll keep digging. See if I can find anything else."
"Do it," Knox says.
We leave the office, and I feel the weight of it settling over me. This isn't just some asshole ex. This is a cop. A man with resources. A man who knows how to hunt.
And Ainsley is his prey.
"We need to tell her," I say.
"Not tonight," Knox says. "She's been through enough today."
He's right. But it doesn't make me feel any better.
We gather supplies from the clubhouse kitchen.
Diapers, formula, bottled water, crackers, fruit.
Anything we think she might need. Knox moves with quiet efficiency, checking labels, making sure everything is right.
I watch him, and I realize this is what he does.
He takes care of people. He just doesn't talk about it.
His fingers linger on a package of baby wipes, turning it over like he's memorizing the brand. Like he's already planning what she'll need tomorrow, next week, next month.
"You think she'll let us in?" I ask.
"She doesn't have a choice," Knox says. "She needs help."
"That's not the same as wanting it."
He looks at me, his hazel eyes sharp. "Then we make her want it."
I grin. "You got a plan?"
"You talk. I'll watch."
"That's your plan?"
"It's worked so far."
Fair point.
We head down the hallway to the backrooms. The door to her room is closed, but I can hear movement inside. She's awake.
I knock. Soft. Non-threatening.
There's a pause. Then footsteps. The door cracks open, and Ainsley peers out, her brown eyes wary.
"Hey," I say, keeping my voice low. "We brought some stuff. Thought you might need it."
She looks at the bags in our hands, then back at us. "I'm fine."
"You have a baby," Knox says bluntly. "No car. No money. Nobody survives on their own looking like that."
Her eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"
"What he means is," I say quickly, shooting Knox a look, "we want to help. That's it."
"I don't need your help."
"Yeah, you do." I hold up the bag. "Diapers. Formula. Food. You need this stuff, and we've got it. So just… let us help. Okay?"
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the war happening behind her eyes. Pride versus desperation. Fear versus need.
Finally, she opens the door wider. "Fine. But just for tonight."
"Just for tonight," I agree, even though we both know it's a lie.
She steps aside, and we walk in. The room is small but clean. Owen is asleep in a makeshift crib, a laundry basket lined with blankets. Tiny socks peek out from under the blanket, so small they look like doll clothes. It's not much, but it's safe.
Knox sets the bags down on the table, and I watch as Ainsley immediately starts going through them. Her hands are shaking. She pulls out the formula first, checks the label, then sets it down carefully like it's made of glass.
"Thank you," she says quietly.
"Don't mention it," I say.
She looks up at me, and for a second, our eyes lock. There's something there. Something raw and vulnerable and terrifying.
And then she looks away.
"I should get some sleep," she says.
"Yeah. Of course." I head for the door, Knox right behind me.
But I stop. Turn back.
"Ainsley?"
She looks at me.
"You're safe here," I say. "I promise."
She doesn't say anything. Just nods.
And then we leave.
Later that night, I can't sleep.
I keep thinking about her. About the way she looked at me. About the bruises on her face. About the fear in her eyes. About those tiny socks.
I get up, pull on a pair of jeans, and head back down the hallway.
I don't know what I'm doing. I just know I need to check on her.
When I get to her door, I hesitate. Then I knock. Soft.
She opens it a crack. "What?"
"Just wanted to make sure you're okay," I say.
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
I lean against the doorframe, keeping my posture casual. Non-threatening. "You know, you don't have to do this alone."
"I've been doing it alone for a long time," she says.
"Yeah. I can tell." I meet her eyes. "But you don't have to anymore."
She stares at me, and I can see the walls she's built. Thick. High. Unbreakable.
But there's a crack. Just a small one.
"Why do you care?" she asks.
The question catches me off guard. I could lie. I could give her some smooth line about club hospitality or doing the right thing.
But I don't.
"I don't know," I admit. "But I do."
She bites her lip, and I watch the way her teeth sink into the soft flesh. It shouldn't be sexy. It shouldn't make my pulse spike.
But it does.
"You don't know me," she says quietly.
"Not yet."
"You don't know what I've done. What I'm running from."
"Don't care."
"You should."
"I don't." I take a small step closer, just enough that she has to tilt her head up to look at me. "Whatever it is, whatever he did to you, it doesn't change anything."
"How can you say that?" Her voice cracks. "You don't even know—"
"I know enough," I say. "I know you're terrified. I know you're running. I know you've got a baby who needs you. And I know you're standing here trying to convince yourself you don't need help when you're barely holding it together."
Her breath hitches.
"I'm not asking you to trust me," I continue. "Not yet. But I'm asking you to let us help. Just for tonight. Just until you figure out what's next."
She looks down at her hands. They're still shaking.
"What if I can't?" she whispers. "What if I don't know how?"
"Then we'll figure it out together."
She looks up at me, and there are tears in her eyes now. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because you deserve it."
"You don't know that."
"Yeah," I say softly. "I do."
For a long moment, she just stares at me. Then she takes a shaky breath.
"Goodnight, Jax," she says softly.
"Goodnight, Ainsley."
She closes the door, and I stand there for a second, staring at the wood.
Then I walk away.
But I know one thing for sure.
I'm completely fucked.