Page 30 of The Eleventh Hour

Titan gets up and looks around suspiciously. He makes to come for me again, but something comes down with a crack across his back. He screams and collapses to the ground.

The thuds go on for a while, but I can’t see them properly in the shadows, and I’m too numb to go look. I don’t know how long it takes until I realise who it is. Until I realise what is going on. My mind moves slowly, and though it doesn’t really make sense, it does.

“Gideon?”

The arms wrap around me instantly. I lean back in his embrace and bite my lip hard to stop the convulsive shivers. I feel revolting. Memories and desperation. It doesn’t matter how strong I make myself at the end of the day, it just takes a man bigger than me to strip it all away. I hate it.

A car pulls into the car park, and Gideon vanishes from sight. I let out a cry of protest and sag against the wall. Dane drives the car to my side and looks at me in silence. He jerks his head to the car, and I climb in. Rafe stares at the unconscious body of Titan, lying collapsed not even two dozen feet away.

“You forgot your bag,” Dane says bluntly.

“I don’t care,” I whisper and pull the door closed. Rafael looks at me, and his expression flickers too fast for me to translate. He carefully edges closer and puts his arm around me. I flinch at his touch but lean into the soothing comfort of his arms.

“What happened?” Dane asks.

“I don’t know…” I whisper. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh fill my ears. “I just don’t know.”

I stare out the window as dark shapes run around the street. Only one large human shape stares at me from the shadows, unmoving. A silent sentinel. A guardian who just broke all the rules of everything I’ve ever known.

Jax

Istumble out of the shower, pull on a pair of clean jeans and a black hoodie, and grab up my phone. I pace to the front of my apartment, pausing as my phone turns on and immediately starts filling with messages. With a huge yawn, I rub my eyes and try to focus on what I need to do. Fuck, I wished I’d had more sleep last night.

I read through the messages one by one. The stalker has left ten. I ignore all the texts inside them after scanning them quickly. Nothing but idle conversation and taunts. But there are four photos. I open each image. Two are of me in the park, close ups of my face, the torment clear to anyone who knows me. My heart pounds as I try to work out where he was standing. How close.

The next one is inside the pub with Stevie. I look cold and bitchy. No wonder she hates me. The last is me disappearing down the hallway. I haven’t forgotten what happened, but I’d managed to push it into a deep, dark hole for a minute.

I open the message from River and freeze. Call me, urgently.

I put the phone to my ear and let it ring while I pick up my keys and slip out of my apartment.

“Oh, thank fuck, you finally answered,” River snaps.

“What’s going on, Riv?”

“You got their asses out. You saved them again, didn’t you? I swear, those girls need to grow up. All this time, you’ve been saving them without them ever realising.” River barely breaks for a pause. “Did you hear? Lisha went missing last night from the club. Some idiot found a dahlia on her car. The rumours are that he’s back.”

His words fade away as white noise fills my ears. I blink, and I’m suddenly closer to the floor. My chest feels so tight, my head is stabbing with pain. I unfold myself, unsure of how I got on my knees.

I reach for my phone. I must have dropped it.

“River?” My voice sounds like a little girl’s, like a lost child.

“Jax, are you all right?” River asks after a pause.

“I have to go.” A whisper of sound. “Who?” I clear my throat, trying to get some sound. “Who saw the calling card? Who found the flower?”

“One of Titan’s goons. A man by the name of Rocks.”

I know Rocks. He’s solid, sensible, other than being involved in Titan’s gang. He wouldn’t say there was a dahlia if there wasn’t. So, maybe it’s a joke. Some kids’ idea of a joke. Not real. False alarm.

“I have to go,” I say in a calmer voice. “There’s a, I have a job this morning.”

“Oh, okay. Sure. Can we catch up later?”

“Yeah, this afternoon? Do early dinner?” I say absently.

“It’s a date. I’ll meet you at Dana’s.”

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