MILA’S POV
The night air in South Boston bit through my clothes, but I barely felt the chill. The adrenaline coursing through my veins was hotter than any jacket.
Jax’s massive black truck tore through the empty streets, the engine growling like a beast unleashed. Directly behind us, Sullivan’s truck and Dmitri’s heavy SUV followed in perfect, synchronized formation. We looked less like a professional hockey contingent and more like an elite task force on a midnight raid.
Jess was safe. We had left her tucked away in the Frost Bank Arena medical lounge under the strict protection of the team's security staff and my mother, who had promised to hit anyone over the head with a stool if they so much as looked toward the door.
I looked across the console at Jax. His large hands were grippin
