Layla’s POV
I was in the kitchen when Jax's call came. His voice was sharp, urgent, nothing like the man who'd held me soft just hours ago.
"Lock the doors. Don't let anyone in. I'm coming home."
The line went dead before I could ask why.
I stood there, phone in my hand, heart starting to pound. What happened? What went wrong?
But I did what he said. I locked the front door. Then the back. I checked every window, made sure they were closed tight.
Then I waited.
Twenty minutes later, the compound exploded with noise. Engines roaring. Men shouting. Boots pounding on concrete.
I ran to the window.
Jax's bike skidded to a stop in the yard. He jumped off, already yelling orders. Men scattered in every direction. Some ran to the gate. Some to the garage. Some pulled rifles from trucks a
