Chapter 7: You finally found her

“And who the hell are you?” Erick growled, his voice thick with suspicion as he sized up the man standing between him and his niece.

“Someone you don’t want to mess with,” Jay replied, his tone low and dangerously calm. It was a voice Honey had never heard from him before—cold steel wrapped in quiet control.

Erick’s hand dropped away from her. He narrowed his eyes, studying Jayson’s face like a man trying to place a half-remembered ghost. “You look familiar,” he muttered.

Jay turned his head slightly, just enough to shift out of the direct light. Honey caught the subtle move and understood immediately. He didn’t want her uncle connecting the dots—that this was the governor’s son standing in a hospital room with his broke, disheveled niece.

Erick stood there a second longer, brows furrowed. The resemblance nagged at him. He looks like the governor’s kid. But then he shook his head, dismissing the thought. Nah. No way a man like that would be mixed up with my sorry-ass niece.

“Ken,” Jayson called out, not raising his voice.

The big man appeared in the doorway almost instantly, filling the frame with his solid build and stone-cold expression. “Yes, boss.”

Erick stumbled back a step, clearly expecting a beatdown from the muscular bodyguard.

A faint, almost amused smile tugged at the corner of Jay’s mouth. He thinks I’m about to have him roughed up. Wrong idea, buddy. I don’t need my fists for this.

“How much does she owe you?” Jay asked flatly.

“Three hundred thousand bucks,” Erick answered, his greedy eyes lighting up like a slot machine.

“Transfer it to him,” Jay told Ken without hesitation.

“Yes, sir.” Ken pulled out his phone, got the account details from Erick, and handled the transfer in under a minute.

Erick’s lips stretched into a wide, satisfied grin as his phone buzzed with the confirmation. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by pure relief.

“Now, don’t ever come near my woman again,” Jay warned, his voice dropping into something stern and final.

Erick nodded rapidly, eyes wide with surprise at the claim.

“Good,” Jay continued, stepping closer. “Because if you come within a mile of her…” His voice went even lower, each word deliberate. “I’ll have Ken chop off your fingers. Every. Single. One.”

“I swear I won’t,” Erick stammered, nodding so hard Honey thought his head might fall off. “Never again.”

“Get out,” Jay said, deadpan.

Erick didn’t need to be told twice. He scurried out of the room like a rat bolting from a kitchen light. The door clicked shut behind him, and the space fell into a heavy silence.

Honey’s jaw hung open. *Did that just really happen? He paid off my debt to Uncle Erick… just like that?*

Then she felt Jay’s warm hands settle gently on her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

She slowly lifted her gaze from the crisp white shirt stretched across his hard chest up to his handsome face. Those green eyes searched hers with something that looked a lot like concern. No one except Jade had ever stood up for her like this. Not in all these years.

“Honey… Honey.” His hands gave her shoulders a light shake, pulling her out of her daze.

She blinked. “Yeah?”

“I asked if you’re hurt,” he repeated patiently.

“Oh. Uh, no. I’m fine. Totally fine,” she said, snapping back to the present.

Jay’s eyes scanned over her once more, checking for any sign otherwise. The room stayed quiet for a long beat.

“Thanks…” Honey cleared her throat, her voice a little rough. “Thank you for… you know.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jay said simply.

She wanted to say more, but the words stuck. She pressed her lips together instead.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, already heading for the door.

Ten minutes later, they were back in the car, speeding down the highway. The silence between them felt thick enough to cut with a knife. Honey stared out the window at the passing trees, but her mind was miles away.

He called me his woman…

Jay kept stealing glances at her puzzled expression. *What’s going through that head of hers?* His eyes kept drifting back—those soft features, the long dark lashes, the full curve of her pink lips.

Honey suddenly turned. Their eyes locked.

“What?” she frowned.

Jay blinked, caught off guard. “You got something you want to say?”

She fiddled with her nails for a second, debating. “Why did you call me your woman back there in the hospital?”

Jay let out a short scoff, one brow lifting in amusement. “That was just part of the script. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Son of a bitch. Honey rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. *What the hell was I thinking? Of course he doesn’t see me like that. It’s all fake.*

Still, somewhere deep in her chest, an uncomfortable little twist settled in—something too close to disappointment.

Jay watched her for another second, trying and failing to read the storm behind her eyes. They rode the rest of the way in silence until the car pulled up in front of a sleek, upscale salon.

Jayson stepped out first. His bodyguard opened Honey’s door, and she climbed out, eyeing the fancy place with suspicion.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

“Stop asking questions. Just come on,” Jay replied, reaching up to press the button on the glass door.

A flamboyant young man in his early thirties hurried over, hands on his hips, a bright smile splitting his face. His hair was dyed in bold, unnatural streaks of color.

“Jayson Kingsley… what brings you into my humble kingdom?” the man said.

“Hey, Charlie. How you been?” Jay answered with a soft, genuine smile Honey had never seen on him before.

Charlie’s jaw practically hit the floor the moment his eyes landed on Honey standing near the entrance. “Wait—is that Nichole Sinclair?” His smile widened. “You finally found her?”

“Yeah, man,” Jay said, keeping his voice steady even as a flicker of nerves crossed his face. “And she’s here to get her hair back to that signature blonde.”

He tried to guide Honey toward the styling chair in front of the big mirror, but she planted her feet and refused to budge.

“What’s wrong?” Jay leaned in close, whispering near her ear.

“I can’t just change my hair color. I’m a brunette, for God’s sake,” she whispered back.

“I know,” he murmured, glancing quickly to see if Charlie was listening. “But you have to. Please. It’s the only way people are gonna buy that you’re Nichole.”

Honey’s lips twisted into a pout as she weighed it. Finally she sighed. “Fine. I’ll dye it… but only because you said please.”

A small smile tugged at Jay’s mouth. There was something about that sharp tongue of hers that almost made him laugh out loud. Honey was nothing like anyone he’d ever dealt with.

She finally sat down in the chair. Charlie got to work, and by the time he was finished, Honey stared at a sleek, perfect blonde in the mirror—exactly like Nichole.

Jay walked up behind her chair and leaned in. His warm breath brushed against the soft skin of her neck. “Perfect,” he said quietly. “You look absolutely perfect.”

Honey’s heart did a little flip at his closeness, the warmth of him wrapping around her like a secret she wasn’t ready to admit.