CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jaxton
A
deep breath slips from my lips as I sink into the couch, my heart brimming with contentment. I just carried Avery to bed—our bed—and I still can’t quite believe she’s here. Safe. Breathing. Ours .
The reality of it doesn’t fully register. My brain keeps playing tricks, whispering that I’ll blink and this will all vanish—that she’ll be gone again, ripped away like some cruel nightmare that never ends. But no, she’s here. Curled up under our blankets, belly round and beautiful, sleeping peacefully. And that belly? That’s our baby in there.
We’re going to be dads.
The thought is overwhelming in the best and worst ways. Joy crashes headfirst into guilt, and I’m left with this mess of emotions clawing at my chest. I should’ve been there. I should’ve known. The fact that she was kidnapped—chained like some prisoner—and forced to face her pregnancy alone while Sarah spun her web of insanity… it eats me alive. That she nearly had our baby stolen from her, from us , right when she was close to deliver? It’s not just messed up. It’s fucking evil.
And we weren’t there to stop it—even though I was in that damn house with her and didn’t even realize it. I should’ve felt something… should’ve known she was close. Should’ve sensed her.
That failure will haunt me forever. I’ll carry it like a scar no one can see but never fully forget. But I swear, with every breath left in my body, I’ll never let her feel that alone again. None of us will.
Because she said yes.
She said she’d marry us. Marry us . I didn’t think I could possibly love her more, but the moment those words left her lips, something inside me detonated. A primal kind of pride. A feral need to protect, provide, and worship the ground she walks on. She’s not just our girl—she’s our everything .
“Hey.” Liam nudges my shoulder, breaking me out of the spiral I’ve been quietly slipping into. “You get her to bed all right?”
I scrub a hand down my face, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Yeah. She’s tucked in like Ma used to say—snug as a bug in a rug.” I try to mimic her sing-song tone, and it earns a soft chuckle from around the room. A much-needed crack of levity.
Kam settles deeper into the chair across from me, a quiet intensity in his expression. “What did the detective want earlier?” His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but needs to hear it out loud.
We haven’t told Avery about the call. She’s been through enough, and stressing her out right now isn’t an option. Not when she’s finally safe, sleeping in our bed—hers, again—carrying our child.
“They still haven’t found Sarah,” I admit, my voice tight. “No sightings. No new leads. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”
My chest tightens. The idea of that woman still out there, watching, waiting, maybe plotting her next move—it makes my blood run cold.
“Security’s locked down,” Kam says, reading the panic behind my silence. “We’ve got a guy outside, one in the hallway, and two more near the elevators. I spoke with the head of security myself. Nobody’s getting close.”
“Thanks, man.” I exhale again and lean back, letting my head rest against the couch cushion. All I want to do is climb into bed next to Avery—feel her warmth, her heartbeat, the solid proof that she’s really here.
“We’re gonna have to tell her soon,” Lennox adds, swirling the last sip of whiskey in his glass. “She’s not fragile, Jax. Keeping her in the dark… you’ve done that before, and it didn’t end well.”
Liam hums his agreement. “I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that fallout, especially not now. She deserves the truth.”
I nod, knowing they’re right. Even if my instincts scream to protect her at all costs, I can’t shield her from everything—not if we want her to trust us completely.
“Yeah. In the morning,” I say, sitting up a little straighter. “I just wanted to give her these first few days to breathe. To feel normal again.”
Lennox leans forward, elbows on his knees. “She’ll appreciate it, man. But she’ll appreciate honesty more.”
Silence settles over us like a heavy blanket. We’re all thinking the same thing—how close we came to losing her, how lucky we are that she’s back.
“She’s our whole damn world now,” I murmur. “And we’ve got to do good by her.”
“Then let’s make sure she knows it,” Kam says, stretching like a lion in his prime, arms overhead and jaw cracking on a yawn. He finishes it off with a grin that stretches wide across his face, his entire energy shifting from heavy to lit-up like a damn Christmas tree. “We haven’t really gotten into it yet, but I’m excited about being a dad. Like—real talk? I’m already mentally mapping out how we make the next one.”
He lets out a laugh, one of those full-bellied ones that starts in the chest and takes over his whole body. It’s infectious as hell. Even I catch myself smirking.
“Oh Jesus, Kam,” Lennox groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose, but he’s smiling too. “You act like you’re about to start a fantasy football team with our sperm.”
Kam shrugs. “Tell me I’m wrong! We got one bun in the oven, and I say we get to work on the next two or three. Think about it—matching little onesies that say My Dads Are Hot as Hell, and a minivan tricked out with blackout windows and car seats for days.”
Liam bursts out laughing. “Don’t forget the ‘Baby on Board’ decal in bold glitter. Real subtle.”
“Oh no, no,” Kam counters. “We go full throttle. Flame decals. Maybe some custom license plate that says BABY MAMA. ”
I’m howling now. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Hell yeah, I’m ready,” Kam says without missing a beat, his grin stretching wide. “I want all of it—the late nights, diaper blowouts, baby giggles... bring it on.”
Lennox points at him with his whiskey glass. “You sound like you’ve got a breeding kink and a Pinterest board.”
Kam just raises his brows. “What gave it away? The fact I already priced out toddler-safe landscaping tools for when they start helping in the yard?”
We all lose it again, shaking our heads and laughing so hard I can’t tell if my stomach hurts from the jokes or from relief. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, things feel... real. Like we’re allowed to imagine a future again.
I lean forward, forearms on my knees, grinning like an idiot. “It’s wild, though, right? We’re gonna be dads. Not maybe. Not someday. Like… soon. There’s a little life in there, and we helped make it.”
Kam sobers slightly, that grin softening into something more genuine. “Yeah. And after everything? I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Same,” Liam says. “I’d give up everything all over again if it meant getting her, getting this.”
We all go quiet for a beat, the kind of silence that means something. The kind that lets you feel the weight of what you’ve got.
Then Lennox clears his throat. “Just so we’re clear—I’m only cool with baby two and three if I don’t get stuck on diaper duty all the time.”
“No promises,” I say, standing and stretching. “But if it means watching her rock our baby to sleep in that nursery we haven’t built yet? I’d wipe a thousand baby butts.”
Kam snorts. “Guess that makes us ass men after all.”
Liam groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Why are we like this?”
Kam snorts as he pushes off the couch. “Ma always said we came out crazy. And honestly? Nights like this, I’m starting to think she had a point.”
One by one, we peel ourselves off the couch, stretching and groaning like we’ve aged fifty years in one evening. Kam cracks his neck like an old man bracing for a storm. Liam grumbles something about needing a forklift for his lower back. Lennox yawns so wide it looks like his jaw might unhinge.
We're a disaster—and somehow, it only makes us laugh harder.
We’re all dragging, but there’s a shared peace in the exhaustion—a comfort we haven’t felt in months.
“Bet she’s already starfished in the middle of the bed,” Liam says with a smirk, brushing past me as we make our way down the hall. “Called dibs on prime pillow real estate.”
“You wish,” Lennox snorts. “I tucked her in earlier. Told her I’d be back to steal the good spot. She promised not to hog it.”
Kam snickers under his breath. “You know damn well she lied.”
“Yeah, well,” I grin, “she can have the whole bed as long as she keeps letting me stare at that bump like a lovesick fool.”
Liam chuckles. “You are a lovesick fool.”
We round the corner to the bedroom, voices dropping naturally as we near the door. The light inside glows soft and golden through the crack, like a beacon calling us home.
It hits me again—she’s here. In there. Safe. Ours.
And I’ve never been so ready to crawl into bed, wrap around my girl, and fall asleep knowing she’s exactly where she belongs.
She’s curled on her side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting protectively over the swell of her belly. That body pillow she clings to is tucked tight between her legs, cushioning our baby—our future. Her soft snores fill the room like a lullaby, gentle and steady. The blankets are kicked halfway down her body, her shirt riding up just enough to reveal the beautiful roundness of her stomach, and a peek of side-boob spilling out the oversized armhole of Kam’s shirt.
She’s perfect. They both are.
Once we’ve stripped down to boxers and quiet footsteps, we climb into bed like we’re approaching a shrine. It feels sacred. My brothers settle in, each finding their place, instinctively forming a barrier around her. A fortress she doesn’t even realize she sleeps within. I slide in behind her, tucking my nose into her hair. She smells like safety and everything I didn’t know I was missing.
My arm wraps around her waist, and I palm her belly gently, letting the quiet kick of our baby flutter against my hand. My throat tightens. Love slams into me like a freight train. It’s so much, too much, but I welcome the weight of it.
The room is silent. The kind of silence where no one has to speak—because we’re all thinking the same thing. We almost lost this. Lost her . Lost them .
A lump forms in my throat as a tear slides across my cheek and disappears into her hair. I don’t fight it. I can’t. She’s here. She’s safe. She’s carrying a piece of each of us. There’s no greater miracle than that.
She shifts in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips, and I instinctively pull her closer, calming her with a hand over her heart. She relaxes instantly, even lets out a tiny growl—like she’s dreaming of protecting us. It makes me smile, because of course she would. Even in sleep, she’s fierce.
I kiss her temple. “Night, Kitten,” I whisper, voice thick with emotion.
And just like that, the world stills. My heart slows. My muscles relax. Her warmth melts every crack inside me until I’m just a man in love, clinging to the girl who makes everything make sense.
Sleep finds me fast.