I couldn't breathe.
The photo of my son sleeping peacefully in his bed at Jimmy's place felt like a knife to the heart. Someone had been inside the house. Someone had stood over my child while he slept.
I showed Jax the message with trembling hands.
His entire body went rigid. The gentle lover from minutes ago vanished, replaced by the dangerous biker I had first met that New Year's night.
“Give me the phone,” he said, voice low and deadly.
He read the message twice, then made a call on his own phone, speaking in clipped, coded sentences. “Tank. New number. Photo from inside the ex’s house. Run it now. I want a name by morning.”
When he hung up, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly it almost hurt. “I swear on everything I am, no one will touch your kids. I’ll find this b
