Bound To Jaxon Hale

THE PLACE SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN The night Emilia Lane finally ran, the house didn’t feel like a home anymore. It felt like a trap—small, suffocating, and soaked in the sour smell of spilled alcohol. Her stepfather’s slurred shouting echoed from the living room, the same way it had for years. The same way it had since her mother died. “You ungrateful girl—come back here!” Emilia didn’t look back as she stuffed clothes into her backpack with trembling hands. She had waited too long to leave. Too long hoping he would change. Too long believing she could survive one more night. Tonight, she didn’t want to survive. She wanted to be free. The bottle crashed somewhere behind her, glass shattering across the floor. She flinched but kept packing. Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. He staggered into the hallway, his heavy boots thudding against the warped wood. “You think you can walk out?” he snarled. “Yes,” Emilia whispered, gripping the straps of her backpack. “I am.” He reached for her arm, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t freeze. She stepped back—out of reach, out of hope, out of fear—and darted for the door. His fingers grazed her sleeve, but she jerked away and ran, shoving the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. The cold night air slapped her face as she sprinted down the porch steps and across the street, not daring to stop even when his curses faded behind her. Only when she reached the bus station did Emilia finally collapse onto a bench, shivering. Her lungs burned. Her throat stung. Tears blurred the neon lights overhead. But she didn’t go back. Not this time. When the night bus arrived, she climbed on with nothing but a backpack, forty-seven dollars, and the stubborn hope that life had to be better somewhere—anywhere—else. She didn’t know the city she was heading to had its own monsters. One in particular. --- THE CITY Emilia stepped off the bus after sunrise, overwhelmed by the towering buildings and fast-moving crowds. People here walked like they knew where they were going. Like they had purpose. Like they mattered. She tightened her jacket around her thin frame. She didn’t matter here. Not yet. Her entire life was inside her backpack. She had no home, no family, no direction. Just a nervous excitement that felt like the start of something huge—or something dangerous. Maybe both. She spent the day searching for cheap hostels, but the prices made her stomach drop. She tried coffee shops for work, but they were “not hiring.” She tried looking for busboy jobs, but without an address, no one wanted her. By evening, she was exhausted, hungry, and out of options. So she wandered. Past bright restaurants she couldn’t afford. Past clean, busy streets she didn’t fit into. Past people laughing in clothes she had never owned. The deeper she walked, the quieter the city became. Streetlights were fewer. Shadows stretched longer. The sidewalks were cracked, and the air smelled faintly of cold metal and trouble. She should have turned back. She should have crossed the street. She should have known the city had a place where even the bravest didn’t wander after dark. But Emilia was tired, lost, and desperately searching for a corner to sit and rest. So she kept going. Into the wrong place. At the wrong time. --- THE MAN SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SEE Voices drifted from around a warehouse at the end of the street, low and sharp. Emilia hesitated. Her heartbeat quickened. Just walk past. Don’t look. Don’t listen. But curiosity tugged at her. A whisper she couldn’t shut off. Just as she stepped forward, a black SUV rolled to a stop beside the building. Three men in suits stepped out—tall, sharp-eyed, serious. They moved like they were trained, their senses heightened, their steps calculated. Emilia froze behind a dumpster, her breath caught in her throat. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t safe. Another man stepped out, but he didn’t look like the others. He moved differently—like the world made way for him. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black with the type of confidence that warned people not to stare. His jaw was sharp, his eyes cold, his presence overwhelming. Even from the shadows, Emilia felt it. The danger. The authority. The command. Jaxon Hale. She didn’t know his name yet. Only that something about him felt like a storm disguised as a man. He spoke quietly to the men around him, but she couldn’t hear the words. Only the tone—controlled, lethal, unbothered by the fear he radiated. A second SUV screeched around the corner. More men jumped out—these ones armed. Emilia’s breath hitched. A confrontation. A dangerous one. She backed away slowly, ready to slip deeper into the shadows and run. But then— A piece of metal shifted beneath her shoe. CLANG. The sound echoed too loudly. Too clearly. Jaxon’s head snapped toward her hiding place. His eyes—icy gray, sharp as a blade—locked onto where she crouched. Emilia’s blood turned to fire. One of his men moved toward her, gun drawn. She stumbled backward, bumping into the brick wall behind her. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “No—no, I’m just lost—” she whispered, panicked. “Stop,” Jaxon said quietly. The guard froze immediately. And Emilia realized something terrifying. He wasn’t just a man people listened to. He was a man people obeyed. Jaxon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her. Emilia pressed herself against the wall, trembling. “What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low and calm—and somehow more frightening because of it. “I—I was just walking. I didn’t see anything. I swear.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure about that?” She nodded frantically. “Yes. I didn’t mean to be here. Please, I’ll go—” But before he could respond, shouting erupted behind him. The rival group lunged forward, weapons raised. Jaxon turned—just for a moment. A shot rang out. A man screamed. Chaos exploded. Emilia didn’t think. She ran. Heart pounding, lungs burning, she sprinted out of the alley and down the street, unsure where she was going. Just away. Far away. She didn’t stop until she reached an old loading dock behind another building. She leaned against a metal container, gasping for breath. “Okay… okay,” she whispered. “Just keep moving. Don’t look back.” She pushed away and took one step— A hand clamped tightly over her mouth. Her scream died in her throat as someone strong pulled her back against a hard chest. “Stop struggling,” a deep voice ordered, breath warm against her ear. “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be on the ground already.” Jaxon Hale. She knew it without seeing him. Terror flooded her. She tried to twist free, but his arm locked around her waist, unyielding. “You shouldn’t have run,” he murmured. “Now I have to assume you saw everything.” “I d-didn’t,” she managed to choke out against his palm. He turned her around, his grip firm but not painful, holding her by the shoulders. His gaze swept her face, reading every flicker of fear. “You were in the wrong place,” he said. “At the wrong time.” “I didn’t mean to—” “I know.” His voice softened a fraction. “But that doesn’t matter.” Her stomach twisted with dread. “Please don’t kill me.” His jaw flexed, as if offended. “If I wanted you dead, little one, we wouldn’t be talking.” Then his expression shifted—still hard, still cold, but now analyzing her like a puzzle he hadn’t expected to find. “You’re shaking,” he observed quietly. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I can see that.” His grip loosened slightly. For a moment, she saw something human flicker in his eyes. But it vanished quickly. “You saw something you shouldn’t have,” he said. “And I can’t let you walk away.” Her throat tightened. “Please, I won’t tell anyone. I don’t even know what I saw.” “That’s the problem.” His voice dropped lower. “I can’t risk it.” She stumbled back, but he caught her wrist in one swift movement. “Come with me.” “No—please—don’t do this—” He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence a shadow that swallowed hers. “You have two choices, Emilia.” Her heart stopped. “H-how do you know my name?” He smirked faintly. “I make it my business to know things.” She trembled. “Your choices,” he continued softly, “are simple.” His fingers brushed her cheek in a gesture far too gentle for the situation. “You run… and my enemies will kill you before sunrise.” She swallowed hard. “Or you come with me,” he finished. “And I keep you safe.” “That’s not safety,” she whispered, voice trembling. “That’s kidnapping.” His eyes didn’t flinch. He didn’t deny it. “Maybe,” he said. “But it’s still your safest option.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t just—” “You’re coming with me.” He lifted her effortlessly, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back as if she weighed nothing. She cried out and hit his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. “Stop fighting,” he murmured. “You’ll only hurt yourself.” He carried her toward the black SUV parked nearby. Her voice cracked with panic. “Please don’t do this—please—” His expression didn’t change, but his voice was surprisingly gentle. “I’m not doing this to hurt you.” “Then why?” He looked into her eyes, something dark and complicated brewing behind his calm exterior. “Because I can’t let you go.” The car door opened. He set her inside with control, not cruelty. The last thing Emilia saw before the door shut was his face—shadowed, unreadable, and unbearably intense. And then everything went black.