Sarah's Pov
I stood in the quiet of Jax’s house, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the hollow at my throat. My pendant. It was gone. Panic spiked through me, sharp and cold. I patted my collarbone, my chest, even the pocket of my worn jeans, hoping, praying it had somehow slipped inside. But it was nowhere. *No. No, no, no.* That pendant was everything. The only thing I’d managed to hold onto from my mother. A small silver disk, worn with age, etched with a design I used to trace as a child whenever I felt scared. And now — now it was gone. My mind raced. *Where did I last see it? When did I last feel the weight of it against my skin? Had I lost it during the chaos at the clubhouse? When Jax had pulled me away from those leering eyes and dragging hands? Or had it slipped off in the night, tangled in the sheets of a bed that wasn’t mine? A wave of nausea rolled through me. *Damn it.* I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to push back the gnawing sense of dread that had nothing to do with the missing pendant and everything to do with this place — this house that felt more like a cage than a safe haven. The windows were dark, the night pressing in on all sides. Every creak of the old floorboards, every whisper of wind against the walls set my nerves on edge. Where *was* Jax? The man terrified me, and yet... he was the only thing that kept the real monsters at bay. I’d seen it in his eyes — that brutal, unflinching fury when anyone so much as looked at me wrong. But men like him… I’d learned the hard way they could be your savior one moment and your destroyer the next. Still, I waited for him. My body ached from exhaustion, but I paced the living room, listening for the roar of his bike. The waiting was torture — the kind that crawls under your skin and makes you jump at shadows. And then I heard it. The gates groaned open. The engine snarled like a beast unleashed. Jax was home. The front door burst open so hard it smacked the wall. Jax stormed in, fury radiating off him like heat from a fire. His eyes were wild, his jaw clenched so tight I thought he’d break his teeth. Two of his men stumbled in after him — or, rather, were dragged in. One was bloody, his lip split and swelling fast. The other had a gash over his eye. He had already beaten the living shit out of them outside. Jax didn’t even pause. His fist crashed into the first man’s face with a sickening crack. “You were supposed to be watching her!” he roared. The man crumpled, groaning, but Jax wasn’t done. He turned on the second, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall so hard the pictures rattled. “My *daughter*, you useless fucks!” His voice was a snarl. “She’s gone because of you!” The man tried to speak, but Jax’s fist silenced him, smashing into his gut. “Stop!” The word tore from my throat before I could think. I rushed forward, heart pounding. “You’ll kill them!” Jax froze, chest heaving, his hand still fisted in the man’s shirt. His gaze snapped to me — wild, broken, dangerous. For a breath, I thought he might hit me too, but then — slowly — he let the man go. The guy collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Jax straightened, shoulders trembling, and turned to his men. “Get the fuck out of my sight. All of you. Now.” The room emptied in seconds, boots thudding, doors slamming. I started to follow, not wanting to be caught in the storm still raging inside him. “Not you.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned back. Jax stood in the middle of the wreckage — shattered glass, splintered wood, blood on his knuckles. His eyes found mine, and for a moment, I saw past the rage to the raw, aching fear beneath. I swallowed hard, stepping toward him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing how useless the words were. “Jax, I’m so, so sorry.” He dropped into the chair like the weight of the world had finally crushed him. He buried his face in his hands, and for the first time, I saw him crack. Without thinking, I knelt beside him. My hand hovered, then rested on his arm — solid, tense, trembling. “She’s out there,” he said, his voice rough and low. “And I can’t… I can’t do anything until I know where.” “You’ll find her.” My voice shook, but I meant it. I had to believe it. “We’ll find her.” His head lifted, eyes locking with mine, and in that second, all the walls between us crumbled. The monster, the savior, the man — it was all there, laid bare. His hand brushed my cheek — so gently I barely felt it. A silent thank you. A plea for strength. And then — the knock at the door. Too Fast. Jax was on his feet in an instant, gun drawn, his whole body coiled tight. A man stepped inside, breathless, holding out something small and shining. Jax’s eyes narrowed as he took it. It was my pendant. My heart stopped. He turned it over in his hand, then unfolded the crumpled paper that came with it. His face went white. I stepped closer, dread thick in my throat. “What is it?” Jax didn’t speak. He handed me the note. *Hand over Sarah. And your daughter lives.* I stared at the words, my blood turning to ice. The Vultures. The name whispered through the room like a curse. My mind raced back — to the fire, the screams, the stash house burning to ash. The pendant — my pendant — the one I’d dropped that night in the chaos. The pendant that was missing from my neck. They knew. They knew. And now they had Lila. The look Jax gave me was enough to kill.Jax’s body pressed against mine again, his weight heavy and potent, as if he could claim me through his heat alone. The warmth of him seeped into my skin.He lowered himself onto me, the hard evidence of his desire gliding along my soaked core, teasing with deliberate care. The head of him brushed my entrance, a delicious friction. My breath hitched in my throat.“Ready?” he murmured against my lips. Each syllable seemed to slide through me like molten fire, setting every nerve ending alight.I could barely nod. My voice was gone, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.He entered me slowly, inch by excruciating inch, until I clamped around him. I was tight, needy, desperate for him to fill me completely. I gasped at the enormity of it, a shaky moan escaping as he paused, his eyes locked on mine. They were dark, intense, burning with a hunger that matched my own.“Say my name,” he demanded, his hands digging into my hips, holding me in place.“Ja…” I gasped, my breath jagged and b
(Sarah’s POV)The moment I uttered those words—"Make me yours"—his eyes darkened with an intensity that promised to consume us both. It was a silent, potent declaration, and I felt it in every nerve ending.“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Sarah?” he whispered, his voice low, rough, and dangerous. It vibrated through me, settling deep in my core.My breath hitched. I couldn’t look away from his steel-gray gaze. It was raw, hungry, and utterly commanding, stripping away all my defenses. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.He reached up, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek, then tracing down to my chin. His touch was slow, deliberate, and impossibly electric, sending shivers trailing down my spine.“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?” he added, his thumb sliding over my lower lip, tracing the curve, making me tremble. His nearness set my entire nervous system on fire, a glorious, terrifying inferno.He leaned down, pressing h
(Jax’s POV)The smell of pancakes filled the cabin. A sweet, warm comfort.She had learnt to recreate it well. Sarah stood by the stove, flipping one with the edge of a fork. The pan hissed softly. In the background, Lila sat at the table, arms crossed, head down. Still fuming in that silent, stubborn teenage way.Sarah had managed to get Lila to her cabin last night, after Jax called her in a rage. Hopefully, the father and daughter could have a mature conversation. Sarah believed they could.Footsteps. Heavy. Slow. They approached from the hallway.Sarah didn’t turn. She knew who it was. The air shifted.“I can smell breakfast,” Jax’s voice rumbled. It was thick with hangover, rough, but still incredibly sexy. A low, gravelly sound that made her stomach flutter.She tossed him a glance over her shoulder. A small smirk played on her lips.“Then you’re still alive?” she teased.He stepped into view. Shirtless. His dark jeans unbuttoned at the top, hanging low on his hips. Hair a tang
(Sarah’s POV)She saw him the second she stepped out from the storeroom. He was a dark, familiar silhouette against the dim light of the bar.Jax was seated at the counter, hunched forward, hands clasped like he’d crushed something invisible between them. His broad shoulders, usually rigid with confidence, were slumped. No leather jacket today, no usual cocky smirk that made her stomach flutter and her cheeks burn. Just a plain dark T-shirt, shadowed eyes, and a frown deep enough to split stone.He looked… wrecked.And her heart did this stupid, needy thing. A desperate flutter in her chest. Where have you been, she wanted to ask. I’ve been looking all damn day. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed just seeing him, the quiet anchor he'd become in her chaotic world. The lingering worry from his sudden disappearance had been a dull ache beneath her skin.But the second he looked up, his gaze meeting hers, she knew. Deep in her gut.Something was terribly wrong.“What happened?” she
(Earlier that Day)(Jax’s POV)The smell of oil always calmed him. Sharp. Honest. Uncomplicated. A familiar comfort in the workshop.Jax worked a rag over his Harley’s gas tank. Slow, even circles. The steel gleamed under the harsh workshop lights. The garage was silent. Just the distant click of a ceiling fan. The soft hiss from the pressure valve.He needed this. The peace. The simple focus.Because every time his hands stilled, his mind drifted. And always, it drifted to her.Sarah. The soft gasp she made when his fingers grazed her bare skin. The way her nipple had peaked under his thumb. The low, desperate moan she let out, just before she pushed him away.His body remembered it too well. Every curve. Every tremor.Jax scrubbed harder at a stubborn spot on the tank. Like he could clean the memory off his skin. Burn it away.Smitten? Fuck no. He didn’t do soft. He didn’t do love. Not after Lana. Love was a weakness. A pain that never truly healed.It was just lust. Adrenaline.
(Sarah’s POV)His mouth crashed into hers like he’d been starving for it. One second they were on the floor, a half-finished taco and a bottle of beer between them. The next, Jax had her pressed against the couch. Her legs spread over his lap. His hands slid under her shirt.She gasped into his kiss. His fingers found the curve of her waist. Then they slid higher. Rough, calloused palms dragged up her ribs until they cupped her bare breast.Her body betrayed her instantly.Her nipple was already hard for him. A tight, eager knot.When he rolled it between his fingers, a shuddering, shocked moan escaped her lips. A sound she barely recognized as her own.“Fuck—,” she whispered. Her head tipped back. Teeth sank into her lip to hold back another sound.She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Her mind was a blur of pure sensation.She felt the heat pour between her legs, pooling in her panties. Her body buzzed with electric need. His mouth moved to her jaw, then her ear. His voice was rough