Jax was good company.
I didn't want to admit that. I'd spent three weeks thinking of him as a knife with a pulse — dangerous, unpredictable, the kind of man you kept at arm's length if you wanted to keep the arm. But four days of twenty-four-seven proximity changes things.
Four days since Church. Since Kael had pointed at Jax and said You don't leave her side. Four days of Jax leaning against my car in the hospital parking lot at shift change, arms crossed, that lazy grin in place like he'd been born wearing it. Four days of him in the passenger seat while I drove, boots on my dashboard, knife flipping between his fingers, filling the silence with observations about every car on the road.
"That one's a cop. Unmarked. See the antenna? Cops always have two."
"That one's a Serpent. No — n
