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Contents ( 43)
  1. Dedication
  2. Contents
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-one
  24. Twenty-two
  25. Twenty-three
  26. Twenty-four
  27. Twenty-five
  28. Twenty-six
  29. Twenty-seven
  30. Twenty-eight
  31. Twenty-nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-one
  34. Thirty-two
  35. Thirty-three
  36. Thirty-four
  37. Acknowledgments
  38. About the Author
  39. Also by J. Lynn
  40. Also by Jennifer L. Armentrout
  41. Credits
  42. Copyright
  43. About the Publisher

As Clyde left, I packed up more clothes and personal stuff and then we headed out to Jax’s truck. It was hard walking across that porch without picturing the body there.

Once in the cab of the truck, Jax looked at me. “You doing okay?”

I thought about that for a moment. “As okay as I can be.”

A slight smile appeared as he reached over, smoothing his thumb along my lower lip. “This shit with Rooster and Mack—with your mom isn’t right. It’s serious. It’s not normal. And it’s okay not to be okay with any of this.”

“I know,” I whispered.

His smile spread on one side of his lips. “Like I said. You’re brave.”

My chest warmed, and instead of denying that, I smiled a little. “Can we stop on the way to your house and grab something to eat?”

“Anything for you, babe.”

I liked the sound of that. A lot.

It was too late to do dinner anywhere, so fast food was on the menu. At this point, I’d probably have eaten horse meat, so I wasn’t complaining when he pulled into the burger joint. Not the best steaks in the state, but it would work.

Neither of us really talked on the drive to his townhouse or as we scarfed down our food. It wasn’t until we were cleaning up and I was tossing my soda in the trash that I knew we had to talk about this.

Or that I had to talk about this.

“Do you think Mom is okay?” I asked.

Jax was at the table situated by the door that led out to a small deck and postage-stamp-size backyard. He turned to me, chin dipped. “I don’t know.”

I closed my eyes as a rush of emotion swelled.

“I hate saying that, but I got to be honest with you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I know you do,” he said, and then I felt him closer and I opened my eyes. He was right in front of me. “If Rooster bounced, then he was probably feeling the heat. That means your mom’s got to still be out there.”

Because she wasn’t lying on the porch alongside Rooster.

“But this isn’t good,” he finished.

Just like Clyde said. “There’s no way she can fix this. Even if they bust Mack for what happened to Rooster, there’s this Isaiah. That was a lot of dope and a lot of money. She can’t get past this.”

“No. She can’t.”

A ball lodged in the back of my throat. “She really did it this time. I mean, she really did it, Jax. There’s no fixing this. There’s no making it okay. And she dragged me into this, which has dragged you into this. And I’m so sorry about that. You don’t need this. You shouldn’t have seen Rooster today.”

“Honey,” he said softly, cupping my cheeks. He tilted my head back. “None of this is your fault. Know that. There is no need for you to apologize for any of this. You didn’t ask for it or bring it on yourself.”