Jax’s POV
The county jail cell smelled like despair and bleach. Every minute that ticked by was a knife twisting in my gut, imagining Layla alone in a room like this, scared, being fed lies by men with badges.
Then, at exactly 6:05 AM, the cell door clanged open. It wasn’t Miller. It was a uniformed guard, looking annoyed. “Slater. You’re released. All charges dropped. Your lawyer’s in processing. Let’s go.”
Charges dropped. The words didn’t make sense. Not this fast. Mendel. It had to be. Grizz had gotten the message and played the only card we had left.
They walked me down the sterile hall to the processing area. And there she was.
Layla stood by a counter, looking small and washed out under the fluorescent lights, clutching a paper bag with her personal effects. When she saw me, h
