Layla’s POV
I woke up alone. The bed was cold beside me. Jax was gone. The clock on the nightstand said 4:30 in the morning. Still dark outside. I lay there for a while, listening. The compound was quiet. No engines, no voices. Just the hum of the old heater.
I looked around, seeing what I can do for Jax, maybe laundry, maybe cook his best meal for breakfast. Some of the members were already out working on bikes, cooping the chicks, and some being dedicated to what they were assigned to do that day. Then I remembered last night. The fight. The s*x. The way he held me after like he was afraid I'd disappear. Something was wrong. Had been wrong for weeks. I got up. I pulled on his shirt from the floor, the one he'd thrown off in a hurry. It smelled like him. Smoke and leather and something
