Jax was right. I should pack a bag, grab her, and just go. Every atom in my body screamed at me to do so…yet here I stood. It was like that morning six months ago when Jax and I prepared to break into Perrone’s estate. Despite the sick feeling in my gut, I’d promised Alex something I shouldn’t have promised her.

I said I’d come back.

I prayed to fuck I wasn’t destined to repeat history. I’d told her I was going to win this fight, and I had every intention of doing so. Whether Zach left the cage on his feet or in a body bag…that, I didn’t know. But I was ready for this match, believed the odds were in my favor, and I’d never had better motivation.

Take Alex and just go.

Those words became a chant in my head. Fuck, he was right. Alex was right. They were so fucking right it was insane. What was I trying to prove? It didn’t matter. Nothing was as important as keeping her safe.

I didn’t remember spanning the floor between the doorway and the closet, but suddenly I was pulling out a duffle, yanking drawers open, and tossing shit into the bag. We could be out of here in fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Just fucking disappear in the middle of the night, and no one would miss us for hours. Zach didn’t know where the safe house was, and neither did Shelton. Jax was the only one who knew, and as far as sketchy people went, he was the only sketchy person I’d trust with my life. He hadn’t told a soul about that house, and he wouldn’t.

Alex and I could lay low for a few days while I emptied out my accounts, assuming I still had access to them. People might wonder why a missing person was suddenly pulling out money from—

“What are you doing?” Alex’s sleepy voice cut into the manic thoughts racing on the tracks of my mind.

“Get dressed. We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

She sprang upright. “You’re not fighting?” Her voice sounded hopeful, which only made me feel shittier.

“No, I shouldn’t have let things get this far. You’re right. We need to get moving.” If Zach were stupid enough to come after us, I’d kill him without hesitation or remorse.

She jumped out of bed and hastily dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was a mess, but she didn’t seem to care, and I sure as hell didn’t care because she looked damn sexy with those locks twisted in a wild array around her face.