Alex returned fully dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a sweater. “What about your son?” she asked, tossing my sweatshirt to me. “Will leaving like this put him in danger?”

“No.” I pulled the shirt over my head and picked up our coats. “I haven’t told anyone about him. Only you and Jax know.”

She settled onto the bench, her expression anxious, and tapped the tabletop with her nails.

Now all we had to do was wait. I peeked between the curtains but couldn’t see shit through the fog. What the fuck was Jax up to? A few more minutes passed, and I began pacing. No way in hell could I sit still like Alex.

We both jumped when my cell let out another shrill ring. I dug the damn thing out, almost dropping it, and asked Jax what the hell was going on.

“Take Alex and go!” he shouted. “Don’t stop for anything. I mean it. Get in your truck and get the fuck outta here.”

“What did you do?”

“I took a page from Cleft’s book. Now get moving. I’ll call you soon,” he said, and then the fucker hung up on me again.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed Alex’s hand and practically dragged her to the staircase. The instant we reached the deck, smoke drifted to my nose, but it didn’t hold the same scent like smoke from a fireplace or a wood stove. Through the fog, I spied an eerie orange glow in the distance, in the vicinity of the barn where I’d pounded out my helplessness, rage, sorrow, and every other emotion known to man for the past six months.

“Is that a…?” Alex squinted through the orange haze.

“A fire? I think so. C’mon.” I moved toward the dock, but Alex halted, a natural reaction for her when water was involved. Instead of trying to talk her through her fear, I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her, lifting one leg then the other onto the dock. Voices drifted to us from afar. Sirens would sound any minute. Nate’s SUV was abandoned, doors left open.

Reaching my truck, which stuck out like a sore thumb despite the fog, seemed to take forever. Each second presented a threat.

Someone would stop us.

Shoot us.

Kidnap us.

Aliens would fucking land because getting behind that wheel and leaving this place a distant memory seemed impossible. Alex must have felt the same way. Her fingers dug into my back a little deeper with each step. I opened the passenger door, shoved the duffle bag over, and set her on the seat.

“Is this really happening?” she asked as I tightened the belt snug across her lap and chest.

“This is really happening.” I slammed the door, hopped into the driver’s side, and sped the fuck out of there.

25. Born Again - Alex

25. BORN AGAIN - ALEX

Six months later