Page 3 of Jackson

“Is Ava okay?”

It’s the first question she asks, every single time.

“She’s doin’ good. I promise you she’s okay.”

Serenity’s eyes well up, but she shoves it down.

“What if I’m stuck in here for a long time? I don’t want that to be her life, Jackson. She doesn’t deserve that.”

I go to reach across the table, to take her hand, to just comfort her for a fucking second, but I’m quickly stopped by the guard shouting, “No touching!”

I can’t even comfort my woman.

I can’t help her.

I give the guard an expression that tells him that if I could, I’d walk over there and rip his fucking head clean off.

“I promise you we’re goin’ to get you out of this,” I say, my voice low. “We’ll find that fucker, and we’ll get you out.”

She nods, but I can see she doesn’t have full faith in me, and that fucking kills me. I don’t blame her, when you’re behind bars, everything gets that much harder. It isn’t so easy to seekjustice when you’re confined to a fucking prison. It’s also not as easy to get away with things.

But I’ll find a way.

No matter what it takes.

“Somethin’ has changed,” I say, my eyes scanning her face.

She stares down at her hands, and I can see them trembling.

“Serenity,” I push, my voice hoarse.

“I’m fine,” she tells me quickly, forcing a smile.

“Baby,” I growl, “I know when you’re lyin’ to me, and right now, you’re lyin’.”

She doesn’t answer.

“What is happening?”

She glances at the guard, and then leans a little closer. “There is someone in here, someone from Hogan’s club.”

I feel like I’ve been slammed in the chest with a fist. Clenching my own, I struggle for calm. We were meant to have taken out that entire club. Never thought for a second about the ones who could have been locked up at the time we took them out. Fuck.

“How bad is he?” I rasp, fighting to keep my voice steady.

“He was the Sergeant in arms, and he isn’t my biggest fan. He was always cruel, but ... he had a woman make it known that he plans to get to me in here, and is going to make my life a living hell.”

It’s taking everything inside me not to slam my fist into the table.

I feel fucking helpless, because there isn’t a single thing I can do to protect her. If I had someone on the inside, I could, but I don’t.

“I’ll get someone put in here,” I say. “I’ll find someone to protect you.”

“You can’t do that. It’s okay, I’ll be okay ...”

Icanfucking do it.

I will.

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