Chapter 23
Conor
Holding Jaxon feels right. There’s no hesitation in it, no doubt. This is where he’s supposed to be. With me.
I press a kiss to his hair, keeping my voice low as I murmur to him that he’s okay and that he’s safe. It doesn’t come naturally to me, saying things like that.
But Ronan made it clear that it matters. That sometimes actions aren’t enough—that the people you care about need to hear it, too. Apparently, ever since Ollie and Colton came into his life, he thinks he’s some kind of expert on reading people.
Maybe he’s right. Because right now, every instinct I have is telling me to find every person who’s ever hurt Jaxon and end their miserable existence.
“I’m sorry I keep breaking down on you.” Jaxon looks up at me through wet lashes, eyes glassy and uncertain.
It hits harder than it should. I’ve never been this drawn to someone before. Even like this, tear-streaked and raw, he’s still… beautiful.
Something tightens low in my gut, then shifts into something lighter, almost unsteady. I want to take care of him. I just need to figure out how.
I glance up at Ronan, who’s got Ollie in his arms, talking to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. If my brother, who is about as expressive as a brick wall, can do this, then so can I.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “I meant it, I don’t mind.” My hand slides down his back in a slow, steady motion. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you, and then we’ll finish talking.” I nudge him gently, keeping my voice low. “You need rest.”
He nods and slowly straightens in his chair. Mom stands and crosses over to him.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she says gently. “You’ve got us now.” Her hand squeezes his shoulder before she steps back. “I’ll get lunch. Conor’s right, you need to rest.”
“I’ll help,” Colton says, already on his feet as he follows her into the kitchen.
Ronan shifts Ollie onto his feet, and the second he’s steady, the kid squirms free and toddles after Mom and Colton. Ronan watches him go for a second before turning his attention back to us.
“I don’t think the Russians are going to be a problem,” he says. “From what I can tell, it was a clean fight.” He leans back slightly. “Henry, on the other hand, is going to have some explaining to do. Danny didn’t sanction that fight, and he definitely didn’t authorize using the warehouse.”
The words settle uneasily in my chest. “You… saw the fight?” I brace myself before he even answers.
“Yeah,” Ronan says without hesitation. “Those idiots didn’t fully wipe the recording. They cleared the local files, but the whole thing was still sitting in the cloud backup.”
The thought of that recording being seen by anyone ignites something sharp and violent in my chest, heat spreading fast, like a fire catching and roaring out of control.
Every hit Jaxon took. Every strike he had to give back just to stay standing.
The very idea of someone watching it for entertainment turns my stomach, the heat in my chest twisting into something darker, something that burns from the inside out.
“Delete it, Ronan.” I’ve never begged my brother for anything in my life, but right now I’d do just about anything to make sure that recording disappears. Jaxon stiffens beside me, and I tighten my arm around him automatically, pulling him closer.
“Already done,” Ronan says, shooting me a look. “Do you really think I’d leave something like that sitting around?” He leans back slightly, completely unfazed. “Besides, Colton likes my face exactly how it is… and Mom’s a hell of a lot scarier than you.”
I nod once at Ronan in thanks. Beside me, Jaxon finally starts to relax as Mom and Colton come back in, arms full of food.
“Franklin made you pasta with a cream sauce,” Mom says as she sets a plate in front of Jaxon. “And a few other things that’ll be easy on your stomach but still fill you up.”
“Franklin?” Jaxon asks, glancing between us.
“Our family chef,” she says with a small smile. “He’s wonderful. I had him prep a few meals for you, and I stocked the fridge with some healthy snacks.”
Her attention shifts to me, her expression sharpening. “Conor, you had next to nothing in there.” I don’t even try to argue.
“I’ll make sure he has what he needs,” I say, my voice even. And I mean it.
“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy,” Jaxon says, a small, tentative smile pulling at his lips.
“It’s no problem, dear,” Mom answers, her own smile warm and easy.
Ronan drags a chair out and straps a small booster seat onto it, lifting Ollie in without much effort. The kid ends up right next to Jaxon. Ollie lights up instantly, bouncing on the seat and waving at him like they’ve known each other forever.
Jaxon lets out a soft chuckle, his face lighting up as he looks at Ollie.
“You’re such a handsome little man,” he says, his voice warmer than I’ve heard it yet. “I love your dimples.”
As if on cue, Ollie grins even wider and presses his index fingers into his cheeks, showing them off proudly. It pulls a real laugh out of Jaxon. It’s easy and unguarded. I don’t think I’ve seen him look like that before.
“Ronan is fascinated with our dimples,” Colton says with a laugh. “Isn’t that right, Ollie? Papa’s always poking at them.”
“I don’t poke at anything,” Ronan mutters, already focused on getting Ollie settled with his food.
“You didn’t deny the fascination part,” Colton shoots back, turning his attention to his plate.
Ronan just huffs under his breath, but there’s no real bite to it as he tends to Ollie. Seeing him like this, so… domesticated, is still a little surreal.
I glance over at Jaxon. He’s watching them, but the smile from earlier is gone, replaced by something quieter… heavier. I squeeze his shoulder gently and nudge his plate a little closer to him. He looks at me, and a small smile returns, soft, a little strained, before his gaze drops to his food.
“As I was saying before,” Ronan picks up, steering the conversation back on track. “I pulled stills from the footage and managed to identify most of the men who were there.”
He pauses, glancing briefly at Ollie before continuing.
“Danny’s already handling the ones on his end who let Henry use the warehouse.”
He takes a few bites of his food, like none of this is out of the ordinary, before going on.
“Most of the Russians weren’t local, and they’ve already cleared out. The ones who are still here are going about business like nothing happened.” Another bite of food. “Henry, on the other hand, no one’s seen him.”
That doesn’t sit right. Why would Henry disappear now? Jaxon won. That should’ve been a win for Henry, too. Something to profit from, not walk away from.
“I think he grabbed the money and headed out,” Colton says. “Atlantic City or Vegas. Haven’t nailed down which yet.”
It’s reasonable that he would do that. But something still seems off about the whole thing. I still don’t buy it.
“Either way, Jaxon should be safe from him for now,” Colton says. “At least until Henry shows back up.”
Jaxon stiffens beside me, his shoulders dropping slightly at the words. Not for long. Wherever Henry is, he’d better enjoy it while he can. His days are numbered.
“Jaxon is safe. Period.” The words come out rough, edged with something I don’t bother hiding. “He’s not stepping foot back in that warehouse, and Henry’s not laying a hand on him again.”
Colton studies me for a second before nodding slightly. “I’ve been thinking about Taylor’s theory,” he says, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. “You said after the fight with Manny, he told you it would work off the debt, right?”
“Yeah.” Jaxon’s voice is quieter now. He stops eating, his hands twisting together in his lap.
“He never said how much. Or how long? Just that a guy named Henry would contact me and that I was supposed to do whatever he said.” His fingers tighten together.
“He told me he’d be in touch in a couple of weeks, but I haven’t heard anything from him since. ”
“See, that’s what doesn’t make sense,” Colton says, leaning forward slightly.
“With guys like this, everything has a price tag. Always.” He glances between Ronan and me for confirmation before continuing.
“From what you’ve told us, Henry’s been pushing you hard, trying to wear you down.
” He takes a drink of his water. “I think he’s gone off script. ”
His gaze sharpens. “And the only way to know for sure is to talk to Manny or Henry.”
“What difference does that make?” Jaxon asks, his eyes still fixed on his hands.
I reach over and take them, rubbing my thumbs slowly over his knuckles until the tension eases just enough for me to slip my fingers between his. The look on his face is defeated and resigned. It makes something inside me snap tight.
Usually, when I get like this, I find an outlet. A fight. A job for Mom. Something to burn it out. But that’s not happening. I’m not leaving Jaxon.
“It matters,” Colton says, his tone steady but firm, “because if this wasn’t sanctioned by Manny, and your debt’s already been paid, then you’re done.
” He holds Jaxon’s gaze now. “You walk away from it. And for all their bullshit, these guys care about one thing. Reputation. Their word means something to them.”
Jaxon’s head snaps up, his brows drawing together hard. “You think he’s been using me?” His grip on my hand tightens. “Making me fight for his own gain?”
Colton nods, expression serious. “Yeah.”
“We need to find Henry,” Ronan says. “Manny is still in Italy with his grandmother. It’s one of the reasons that Colton has this theory.”
I’ll find Henry. Soon. Jaxon deserves peace, and finding him is where that starts.
Dinner winds down with Mom and Colton doing most of the talking. Mom keeps Jaxon engaged, asking about his life, while Colton fills the space with stories about Ollie.
Every time Ollie comes up, Jaxon softens. Something in him eases, like he forgets himself for a second. And when the kid grabs his attention, that softness comes back—natural, unguarded. I want that. I want him to look at me like that. A quiet, unexpected tension settles low in my chest.
Fuck.
I’m jealous of a baby.