Chapter 12 Grateful But Terrified #2
“Jethro doesn’t see you like that.” Oli speaks up, his voice soft but firm. “You know he doesn’t. He hates the terminology. He told us he felt gross even bringing it up. But he’d rather use their rules to claim you than let them keep using you as collateral.”
“I know what he thinks.” I wrap my arms around my middle, feeling the reassuring swell of my stomach. “I just wanted him to talk to me about it. I want to be treated like a partner, not a problem he has to go fix behind my back.”
The silence settles back over the room. I can feel the guys’ anxiety radiating off them. They were all in on it. They all agreed that keeping me in the dark was the best play, and that stings almost as much as the fear.
Right before noon, Ross’s phone vibrates on the coffee table.
We all freeze. Ross snatches the phone, answering it on speaker before the first ring even finishes.
“Jet?” Ross asks, his voice tight.
“I’m in the truck.” Jethro’s voice comes through the small speaker, sounding gravelly and exhausted. “It’s done. They won’t ever be bothering Sandra again.”
Relief washes over me so fast my knees go weak. I sink onto the arm of the sofa, letting out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding all morning. He’s alive. The worst-case scenarios playing in my head finally shut off.
“Are you hurt?” Ross asks, watching me closely.
“No.” A pause. The rumble of the diesel engine hums in the background. “Is she awake?”
Ross looks at me. I shake my head, my jaw setting. I’m incredibly relieved he’s safe, but that relief is quickly making room for a very cold, focused annoyance.
“She’s awake, Jet.” Ross’s tone is careful. “She knows.”
The line goes quiet for a long beat. Jethro lets out a heavy exhale over the static. “I’m about ninety minutes out. Tell her I’m coming home.”
“We’ll be here.” Ross ends the call.
He looks at me, offering a tentative smile. “He’s okay. He’s coming back.”
“I heard.” I stand up, smoothing my sweater. I’m too wired to smile. “I just need to wait for him.”
Ross nods. They can feel the tension radiating off me, and they know better than to crowd me right now. They give me space, retreating to the kitchen and other rooms, so I can have the entrance to myself.
I spend the next hour and a half sitting in the high-backed chair in the entrance facing the front door.
I think about my father. I think about how he taught me to be a criminal before I finally got away, and how I spent my entire life looking over my shoulder because he proved early on that I couldn’t trust him.
And now Jethro just handed over twenty grand to that same system.
I’m grateful to be safe. Deep down, I know he did it out of love. But I’m still furious he took that choice away from me, and even angrier that he put himself in the line of fire to bail out a man who didn’t deserve a dime of their money.
At 1:15 PM, the low rumble of the truck vibrates through the floorboards. It pulls into the driveway. The engine cuts out. A heavy door slams shut.
I stand up. My pulse quickens. The baby shifts, a restless flutter that matches my own nerves.
The front door opens.
Jethro steps inside. He looks drained. His black henley is rumpled; he needs a shave, and his hazel eyes are shadowed with exhaustion.
He stops the second he sees me standing there. He leaves his hand on the doorknob, his gaze sweeping over me to make sure I’m okay. “Sandra.” His voice comes out rough.
He takes a step toward me, opening his arms like he expects me to just fall into them.
I don’t move. I just stare at him. “Don’t.”
“I had to do it.” He drops his hands, a pleading look crossing his face. “I had to make sure—“
“Save it.” I step forward, grabbing his hand; his fingers shake a little. I pull him toward the hallway. “We’re going to the study. And you are going to listen to me.”
I pull him into the small, wood-paneled room and shut the door behind us, flipping the lock.
He stands in the center of the room, running a hand through his messy hair. He looks like he’s bracing for a fight, and I don’t give him a chance to catch his breath.
“Who gave you the right?” I keep my voice low, but the anger sharpens every word. “Who gave you the right to walk out of this house and gamble with your life without talking to me first?”
“I was protecting my family.” Jethro’s voice rises slightly. “I saw Nero yesterday, Sandra. I saw him sitting outside that boutique waiting for you. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for them to snatch you.”
“So you walked right into their headquarters instead?” I throw my hands up. “You walked into a warehouse with an envelope of cash and just hoped for the best? You think I want to be safe if it means you get yourself killed?”
“It wasn’t a blind gamble.” Jethro steps closer, his size making the study feel tiny. “I know how to handle guys like Sergio. I know Alpha Law would hold up. I cleared the debt so they literally had no excuse to start a war with us.”
“You paid off my father’s debt.” I let out a frustrated breath. “You paid off the guy who sold me.”
“I didn’t do it for him.” Jethro grabs my shoulders.
His grip is firm, but his thumbs rub soothing circles against my sweater.
“I would let that man rot in a cell for the rest of his life and I wouldn’t lose a second of sleep.
I did it for you. I did it so you never have to look over your shoulder again.
So our kid never has to worry about the mafia showing up at the front door. ”
“If you had asked me, I would have said no.” I pull away, pacing a few steps away from him. “I would have told you to let Sergio hunt him down. I would have rather stayed locked in this house than give that man one more cent of your money. You rewarded my father for what he did to me.”
“I know.” Jethro’s tone drops, turning raw and exhausted.
“And I hate that part of it. But I couldn’t live knowing there was a price tag on your head.
I don’t care about the money or the pride.
I just want you to be able to walk down the street and breathe.
If paying off your father’s mess was the only way to get them to back off, then it was worth it.
And our money is yours as well. You’re family now. We take care of our own.”
He watches me, leaning back against the edge of his desk. The anger in the room is still there, but the sharp edges are dulling. Seeing him standing here, safe and whole, overrides the panic I’ve been holding onto all morning.
“You’re an idiot, Jethro.” I wipe my eyes, the fight draining out of me.
“I know.” He pushes off the desk, closing the distance between us. “But I’m your idiot.”
“I’m still mad at you.” I rest my hands on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart.
“I know you are.” He reaches up, his fingers brushing the mark on my neck. “But you’re safe now. They recognized the bond. The debt is zeroed out. It’s over. You’re free.”
I look up at him, and my throat tightens. I drop my head against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of smoke and marshmallow. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. I just stand there, letting the adrenaline of the last few hours finally crash.
Deep in my chest, a soft purr starts up. A second later, Jethro’s chest rumbles against my cheek as he joins in, his deep, heavy purr vibrates in perfect sync with mine.
As we stand there purring together, the last of my anger dissolves. The air in the study shifts. It feels lighter. The heavy, suffocating anxiety is gone, replaced by a quiet, grounding warmth.
I pull back just enough to look at his face. His hazel eyes are dark and tired, but there’s a satisfaction in them.
“You really cleared it.” I trace the line of his jaw.
“Every cent.” Jethro covers my hand with his. “Sergio accepted it. Under Alpha Law, you’re officially ours. And I made sure he understood that the bank is permanently closed. If your dad racks up more debt, he’s on his own. We’re done with him.”
Jethro leans down, pressing his lips to the side of my neck.
He kisses the skin right below my ear, his scruff scratching pleasantly against my jaw.
A warm shiver runs down my spine. The anger gone now, replaced by a sudden, intense need to just feel him.
To reassure myself that he’s here, for real.
I grab the hem of his henley and pull. Jethro gets the hint, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the leather armchair. The scars from his time in Iraq pale against his skin in the dim afternoon light.
His hands move to the oversized flannel I’m wearing. He makes quick work of the buttons, pushing the heavy fabric off my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. He reaches for the waistband of my leggings, pushing them down along with my panties.
He doesn’t stop there. He unfastens his own jeans, shoving them down his hips and kicking them aside. His thick, heavy cock springs free.
Gently he eases me to the floor. I tangle my legs with his, the lush gray rug soft and comfortable under us. “Jet.”
He kisses me, slow and deep. His large hands map my body, sliding down my sides before settling between my thighs. There’s no frantic rush, just a steady, deliberate focus.
He settles his weight over me, his calloused fingers parting my slick folds. He finds my swollen clit, stroking the sensitive nub. A low groan vibrates in his chest as his fingers map the slick heat between my thighs. His breath hits my skin. “God, Sandra. You’re so wet.”
I shiver and a gasp escapes my lips as my hips arch into his touch. I’m already dripping for him, my body aching for the connection and the physical reassurance that he’s safe.
He traces the wetness, his dark eyes locking onto mine with fierce intensity. “Tell me what you want right now. My mouth, or my dick?”
I grab his hips, pulling him closer. “Your cock. I need you inside me.”
He grunts in approval, guiding his thick length to my entrance.
When he pushes inside, I let out a long, shuddering breath.
He fills me, his thick shaft stretching me while the knot at his base rests just outside.
The solid weight of him grounds me, pushing away the last lingering thoughts of what he did today.
Jethro sets an easy, steady rhythm. He pulls his hips back and drives deep, the swollen bulb of his knot nudging against my slick opening with every thrust. The blunt, teasing pressure winds the tension tight in my belly.
I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, pulling him down for another kiss. The bond hums between us.
I press my lips against the corner of his mouth. “I love you. I hated what you did today, but I love you.”
Jethro lets out a low groan, his hips picking up the pace.
He buries his face in my neck, his breathing turns ragged as the friction pushes him toward the edge.
His body goes rigid. He drives his hips forward with brutal force, pushing that last inch to pop his swollen knot past my opening.
The sudden, immense stretch of him locking deep inside me shatters the last of my control.
My climax rips through me the exact second his hot release spills into my core. I cry out, pulling him closer, my body clenching tight around the thick bulb pinning us to the floor.
We stay there on the rug for a long time, the silence of the room broken only by our breathing. Jethro keeps his arms around my waist, his weight a comforting blanket.
Jethro pulls back, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. “I love you, too.”
I close my eyes, feeling the steady presence of the rest of the pack in the back of my mind. Ross, Caleb, and Oli are just down the hall. The fear that’s chased me for years is finally gone.
I rest my head against his chest. We’re finally safe.