A shiver goes through me but then Jax climbs on the horse. He sits right behind me on the saddle. His powerful, loving arms wrap around my body to take control of the reins.
I melt in his embrace. My fear drains from my body. I can feel his heartbeat everywhere at once. The brute. I can’t resist him.
Fighting the truth is exhausting. I live and breathe and drink Jaxson Cole. My five senses hone in on this moment. I can smell him and taste him and feel him. I hear the soft release of his breath. My eyes drop to savor his muscular forearm wrapped around my belly.
So I don’t protest when he spurs the horse on. He holds me tight and steady like I’m something precious, something breakable—the thing in this universe he values most.
We trot straight to the riding arena but instead of entering, Jax veers the horse to the left and through a gate on the fence toward a thinly wooded area.
I’m about to ask if that’s wise but Jax reads my mind. “We’re shadowed by Carter’s men who have secured the area. Wherever you go, they go. They’ll let us know if we need to go back.”
I turn my head and, sure enough, two bulky figures dressed in black are discreetly on our tail, riding expertly on horseback. I wonder if they order these guys for every occasion like birthday party performers. For this bit of evil we will need a couple of trained killers who are excellent equestrians.
“There are guards everywhere,” Jax reassures me.
“Who’s going to guard me from you?” I say, half meaning it.
Jax laughs weakly, a courtesy laugh. “Little Ella has me wrapped around her finger and she knows that will never change no matter what she says.”
I’m about to slap some sarcasm on him like a lash from a whip but then he pulls me closer to him. The small of my back can feel him getting hard.
That gorgeous fool is always ready—ready for me. And maybe he’s right, maybe I have him wrapped around my finger just a tiny bit and maybe I can get him to do whatever I want. Lord knows I have no shortage of ideas.
As much as I wish to fight him, my need betrays me. I grind my ass a little against his growing erection, making him moan.
“You like to torture me, don’t you, Ella Wade?”
Instead of an answer, I reach behind my back to gently stroke the lengthening bulge in his pants. “Do you think the guards can see this?” I say, my impish self out in full mode.
“Your punishments are too severe,” he says with a groan.
I rub him slowly, enjoying how my touch makes him shiver, when he suddenly takes my hand. “We need to talk, Ella.”
I don’t like the sound of his voice. It’s too serious, too insistent and a little bit distant for this sexual moment.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
“C’mon, let’s get off the horse.”
My whole body tenses as he glides off the horse and then helps me down. He has been the harbinger of terrible news so many times, I don’t know if I can handle any more of his talks.
The guards follow suit, getting off their horses and sprawling themselves on the ground, close enough that they can keep an eye on us without actually being able to hear us.
“This is getting to be ridiculous,” I say, totally creeped out by their diligence. I can’t help but remember seeing similar faces popping up all around me for the past week or so. It’s finally dawning on me that Carter’s men have been on me ever since Madison’s murder.
“Ridiculous, but necessary,” Jax says, plopping down on the ground and taking my hand to get me to sit.
I do as he wishes, facing him and clearing my throat. “Let’s hear it.”
“I told you there’s a temporary truce in place, right?”
I nod because I remember but also because, unfortunately, I can guess where this is going.
“Ella, once that’s done, your life will be in danger. Bronson is not a man to forgive or forget. He will make good on his threats.”
My blood goes a little cold. “I’m glad you have so much confidence in my assassin. That’s reassuring.”
He shakes his head. “That’s why we need to take action. I’ve told you about my uncle Lucius. He’s the only one who can protect us now.”
“How would he do that exactly?”
He hesitates for a beat. Someone else may not have noticed that but I know him too well.
“By taking us in. We’ll have to stay with him until…”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Days, weeks, months. Until Carter is dead maybe.”
His words produce strange reactions in my body and mind. I feel like screaming or kicking or maybe both. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not going to lock myself up in some mobster’s sick fortress waiting for my father to be killed. No fucking way, Jaxson! No fucking way.”