Chapter 11 #2
Owen squeals again and reaches for Jax.
"Oh, now you want me?" Jax teases, walking over to take him. "I see how it is. Knox gets all the morning love."
"He grabbed my beard," Knox says dryly. "That's not love. That's assault."
I laugh, and the sound feels light and easy.
Jax bounces Owen gently. "Who's your favorite, huh? Is it me? I bet it's me."
"He literally just grabbed my face," Knox points out.
"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, brother."
Knox rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.
We move to the kitchen together, and I start making coffee while Jax gets Owen settled in his high chair with some Cheerios.
Knox leans against the counter, watching me with that intense look he gets sometimes.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says. "Just... this."
"This?"
"You. Here. With us."
My throat tightens. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," Jax says, coming up behind me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Because we're not letting you."
We eat breakfast together, simple and domestic and perfect.
Then Knox glances at the clock and curses softly. "We've got church in an hour."
Jax nods. "Yeah. We need to head out soon."
My stomach tightens slightly. "Church?"
"Club meeting," Knox explains. "Shouldn't take long. A few hours, maybe."
"We'll be back before you know it," Jax adds, squeezing my hand.
I nod, forcing a smile. "Okay."
They both kiss me before they leave, long, lingering kisses that make my toes curl.
"Lock the door behind us," Knox says.
"I will."
"We'll text you when we're done," Jax promises.
Then they're gone, and the cottage feels suddenly too quiet.
I lock the door like Knox asked, then turn to look at Owen.
He's happily smashing Cheerios into his tray, oblivious to the anxiety starting to creep up my spine.
It's fine. They'll be back soon.
I tell myself that as I clean up the kitchen, putting away dishes that don't really need to be put away and wiping down counters that are already clean. Anything to keep my hands busy and stop myself from checking the time every thirty seconds.
It doesn't work.
Without Jax and Knox here, the cottage feels different. Too still. Too quiet. I hadn't realized how quickly I'd gotten used to the sound of them moving around, their voices filling the rooms, or one of them making Owen laugh from somewhere down the hall.
I finish in the kitchen and wander into the living room, but I don't know what to do with myself once I get there. I sink onto the couch and pull my knees up, wrapping my arms around them as I stare at the wall.
They're fine. We're fine.
Except my brain won't leave it alone.
What if Justin finds us? What if coming here only put Jax and Knox in danger too? They've done nothing but help Owen and me, and now they're tangled up in something that has nothing to do with them.
And what happens if Justin comes for Owen?
That thought makes my stomach clench.
I should be able to protect my son. I've spent every day since we left making sure Justin couldn't get near him again, but lately I can't stop wondering if I've done enough. If I'm strong enough to keep running when Justin has more money, more connections, and more ways to find us than I ever will.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, startling me out of my thoughts.
I glance at it but don't reach for it.
Probably Jax. Or Knox. Maybe one of them checking in because apparently they've both decided I need to be watched every second of the day.
The thought should make me smile.
Instead, the phone buzzes again, then a third time.
Something cold settles in my stomach as I stare at it.
Don't look.
I could delete the messages without opening them. Block the number and pretend they never came through. That's what I should do, especially when I don't recognize the number lighting up my screen.
But I already know. I don't know how, but I know.
My hands are trembling when I reach for the phone. I unlock it and see three messages from an unknown number waiting for me.
The first is a photo.
For a second, my brain can't make sense of what I'm looking at. Then I recognize the blue shirt. The little sneakers. The dark curls I smooth away from his forehead every night before I kiss him goodnight.
Owen.
He's at the park from yesterday, sitting on the swing with his little hands wrapped around the chains and his face tipped back with a huge smile.
I stare at the picture, trying to understand why someone would send it to me. Every bit of warmth drains from my body.
"No." The word slips out before I can stop it.
I swipe to the second message, even though every instinct inside me is screaming not to.
Another photo fills the screen.
This one doesn't take me a second to understand. It's Owen. He's asleep in his crib, one cheek pressed against his pillow and his little body curled beneath the blanket. My hand flies to my mouth. Because that's his crib. That's his blanket. And that's this house.
The angle is wrong, taken from outside, through the window. But it's unmistakably Owen's room. The dinosaur decals Tessa put up. The hand-carved crib Tiny made.
The third message is just text:
I see him. I see you. You can't hide forever, Ainsley. You belong to me.
I drop the phone like it's burned me.
My heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe.
No. No, no, no.
Another message comes through.
I don't want to look.
But I do.
You thought you could run? You thought you could replace me? I'm coming for you, Ainsley. And when I do, I'm taking what's mine.
A sob tears out of my throat.
He found us.
He found Owen.
The room spins.
I can't breathe.
I can't think.
All I can hear is Justin's voice in my head, cold and cruel: You're nothing without me. You're weak. You're pathetic. You'll never be safe.
And he’s right, he’s always been right. I’m not safe here. Owen isn’t safe here. And if I stay, I’m going to get Jax and Knox killed. The realization hits me like a freight train: I have to go. I have to run. Now.
I move on autopilot.
I've done this before.
I know how to pack fast. I know what to take and what to leave behind.
My hands are shaking as I grab Owen's diaper bag from the hook by the door. I start shoving things inside, diapers, wipes, formula, his favorite stuffed bear.
I check on Owen, still asleep, thank God, and then move to the bedroom.
I pull out the small duffel bag I've kept hidden under the bed. The one I packed the day I left Justin. The one I swore I'd never need again.
I was wrong.
I throw clothes inside, mine and Owen's. Not much. Just enough to get us through a few days.
Where will you go?
I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
Anywhere is better than here.
Anywhere is safer than putting them in danger.
I pause, my hands hovering over a soft grey hoodie, one of Knox's. I'd borrowed it a few nights ago when I was cold, and he'd told me to keep it.
The fabric still smells like him.
I press it to my face and breathe in.
I'm sorry, I think. I'm so sorry.
But I can't stay.
I can't let Justin destroy them.
I shove the hoodie into the bag and zip it closed.
My phone buzzes again.
I don't look.
I can't.
I grab the bags and head for the door, my heart pounding so hard I feel like I'm going to pass out.
Just get to the car. Just get Owen and go.
I'm halfway to Owen's room when I hear the front door open, and my steps falter.
No. They're not supposed to be back yet. I thought I'd have more time to figure out what I'm going to say, how I'm going to explain any of this without falling apart the second one of them looks at me.
"Ainsley?"
Jax's voice carries through the house, and I close my eyes as my chest tightens.
Please don't come in here. Please give me another minute. Just one more minute to pull myself together before I have to face him.
His footsteps sound in the hallway, getting closer, and my stomach twists with every one of them. I should move. I should go to Owen's room, shut the door, do something other than stand here waiting for the moment I've been dreading.
But I don't get the chance. The bedroom door opens and Jax stops in the doorway, his eyes going from me to the bags on the bed.
His expression shifts. Confusion. Realization. Anger. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
I don't answer, I can't.
Knox appears behind him, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. “Ainsley," Knox says, his voice hard. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "I have to go."
"Go where?" Jax demands, stepping into the room.
"Anywhere. It doesn't matter. I just, I have to leave."
"Like hell you do," Knox growls.
"You don't understand.”
"Then explain it to us," Jax says, his voice sharp.
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. "He found me. He found Owen. He sent me photos—he was at the park yesterday, he was here, outside Owen's window.”
"Show me," Knox says, his voice cold and commanding.
I grab my phone with trembling hands and hold it out to him.
Knox takes it, his jaw tightening as he scrolls through the messages. Jax looks over his shoulder, his expression darkening with every second.
"Fuck," Jax mutters.
"I have to go," I say again, my voice breaking. "I have to leave before he hurts you. Before he hurts Owen. I can't, I won't let him destroy you."
Knox looks up from the phone, his eyes blazing. "You're not going anywhere."
"You don't get to make that decision.”
"The hell I don't." He steps closer. "Look at me."
I do.
"Talk to me," he says, his voice softer now. "Tell me what you're afraid of."
"I'm afraid he's going to kill you," I whisper. "Both of you. And I can’t, I can't live with that."
"You think we can live with you leaving?" Jax asks, his voice raw. "You think we can just let you walk out that door and disappear?"
"I've done it before.”
"And look where it got you," Knox says quietly. "Broken down on the side of the road with a baby in the backseat and a monster hunting you. You think that's better? You think that's safer?"
"At least you won't be in danger.”